He didn't know what he was supposed to do. That had been apparent from the beginning. That was what made the choice so difficult. What he was supposed to do and what he would do were not the same. His motive was to use her against his rival, to bring down his enemy, have a grave victory. But his desire was distinct, molded, and morphed into a harmonious composition of sentiments. 

This would have been fine if he were willing to face the inevitable, he had no ways to recover. He once was calculated, but now all he was left with was that small eerie feeling, small yet heavy. Just...