[He hums briefly, brows furrowed for only a moment as he tries to think back.] I can't promise that anything I can say about my thoughts from back then will make sense. The way I felt at fourteen is easier to recall than the chaos in my mind back then.

[Wriothesley speaks easily, the topic one that no longer ignites the turmoil in his mind as it had in the many years to follow. A lot of his exact thoughts from the time had faded, other than the few vivid ones as he lay dying -- other than looking up at Neuvillette in the opera house.]

Everyone that day avoided eye contact with me, as if they were uncomfortable with someone so young not only being put on trial but confessing every little detail. [A soft smile tugs at his lips.] Everyone but you, that is. I wanted to feel like someone actually believed me, and each time someone looked away I could see they didn't. None of them really wanted to see justice done that day.

[The smile is still in place as he turns his head to face Neuvillette.] Out of everyone there, you were the only one I felt like I could trust. Which was a lot to me when I swore I'd never be able to trust anyone ever again, even as I entered the Opera Epiclese. So... if I could, once I was out, I wanted to meet you.

[His smile shifts as he laughs quietly -- certainly remarkably well adjusted for someone with his past.] And I'll be honest, even back then, I've always found you... stunning.