Ningyō no Ohimesama (The Doll Princess)

Progress Regressing

{MIHO'S POV}
I look into the mirror, and a terrifyingly expressionless face stares back at me. I try to force a smile, but my facial muscles feel cold and stiff.

I open my mouth to admonish myself for allowing the progress I finally made to go to waste, but no sound comes out.

I glance at the dress a maid laid out on my bed for the (un)welcome home ball tonight.

It's poofy, frilly, and childish, exactly like a dress I'd wear when I was 12. I suppose that's the point. To make me look like I never left.

At least the maids didn't pick a pink or purple or yellow dress like they would doll me up in before.

I sigh, prepared to shimmy into it alone. I lose control one time, and now no maid will come near unless their hand is forced.

The door cracks open. I jump and leap for my sword, pressing my back against the wall. Scenes of ambushes dance in my eyes.

"It's me!" A familiar voice chirps.

My body immediately relaxes. "Asahi."

She pokes her head through. "Yo! Thought you could use a hand."

I smile. "Yes... thanks."

Asahi pops through the door. I chuckle, seeing her in an ill-fitting, clearly stolen maid's uniform. She helps me into the dress, tightening the bodice behind me. She brushes my hair and fixes it into a fishtail braid that hangs halfway down my back.

I look at myself in the mirror, grateful that the hairstyle makes me look a little more grown up and elegant. "Appreciate it."

Asahi makes a victory V with her index and middle fingers, grinning. "Anytime. I gotta bolt back to the pharmacy before Ryuu-sensei gets mad. Enjoy your super spiffy night ball!"

"Enjoy a... ball? That's... contradictory."

I shuffle down the hallway slowly, trying to make myself as tiny as possible with the huge skirt.

Having my name announced at the entrance cannot be avoided, even though I ask. All eyes turn to me and I immediately feel suffocated.

I glide down the stairs, intentionally keeping my face emotionless. Not that it's hard.

"It's been a while, Miho-sama." A kind voice says. I turn to face the Viscount of Bergatt.

I nod in greeting. "Tsuruba-dono."

He and his brother are some of the few who never held prejudice against me. Their story is long and complicated, but they owe Dad a lot. I open my mouth to continue the conversation but my ear perks, having caught an interesting conversation.

"Is that really her?"

"Obviously. Who else has looks like that?"

I clench my fists discreetly.

"Do you think the rumors are true? About Zoral?"

"I don't know. The exchange student working for me is tight-lipped. He claims Miho-sama doesn't like it when people gossip about her."

"Yeah right. I heard she attacked and seriously injured a maid at Wistal castle. She probably did it to gain her spotlight back."

"How boorish. I feel bad for her maids."

"Wasn't there a rumor Miho-sama could speak and show emotion on her face now? Since that's a lie, I'm sure the news from Zoral is greatly exaggerated too. After all, she's done nothing but laze around the castle since she arrived."

"Shall we catch her in her act? Ask her about her contributions in the war?"

"Much as I would love to see it, we mustn't look like we're bullying the poor girl."

"Poor girl, indeed. Ha! I heard she's traumatized. Seeing hallucinations in every corner."

"What a joke, it can't be that bad. She's just returned home and merely wants attention."

They take turns glancing at me and sniggering. Tsuruba steps forward, eyes full of anger. I stick out my arm, holding him back.

Nothing will change if other people stick up for me. I have to stick up for myself. While in Zoral, I forgot how cold and unforgiving people can be.

I have to tell them they're wrong. But I haven't felt unbearable pressure like this in years. I don't want to go through this again. Aoi, save me!

I ball up swatches of my dress in my fists. Tears burn at the corners of my eyes, overflowing but unable to be released. I can't do this.

I duck my head in shame. My eyes fall on the fabric of my childish dress. Blue. It's powder blue with royal blue roses and vines embroidered on.

"Not alone."

It isn't Aoi's voice that rings in my subconscious. It's my own. Back when we were kids and Aoi was terrified of starting a revolution all by himself, these were my words of comfort to him. He wasn't alone.

"Who was it who opened up and started talking to me? Who's been trying so hard? You're the one who's changing yourself."

I'm the only one who can change myself. I won't allow myself to emotionally regress anymore.

I look up, fiery determination burning in my eyes. Tsuruba sees this and smiles, backing off.

I approach the group of nobles, who look rather alarmed by my directness. Cowards. Full of talk but can't follow through.

I enter their circle and stop, smiling coldly. "Mind... letting me in... on your conversation?"

They open and close their mouths, blubbering like fish out of water.

"I heard... my name several... times. If you... have something to say... please say it... to my face. I truly... don't enjoy people... gossiping about me."

Their faces blanch. My voice rings out clearly, the first time most of these people have heard it. Many crowd closer, enjoying the show.

I tilt my head innocently. "Why do you... talk behind my back? Is... it because you're... afraid of me? Tell me... are you afraid because I... dared to start a war... with 63 men or... because I... won it?"

The gossipers shudder and step back, trying to find a way out with their dignity intact.

"People's... feelings might be... hurt if they hear you... saying such... boorish things. You should... watch your tongues from now... on." I admonish.

Lest you loose them, I add privately. The tongue is surprisingly easy to cut out. All I'd need is a knife. Are the carving knives at the buffet table dull? I set aside this thought for now.

It's their turn to duck their heads in shame. People begin to whisper, and I feel dark satisfaction knowing that their social lives are likely ruined.

Some guards escort the party-poopers out.

I turn to the onlookers and curtsy, lowering myself close to the floor. "Thank you... all for coming. Please...enjoy the rest of... your night."

Some of the nobles clap for me. Many want to introduce themselves. I find the stiffness in my cheeks slowly disintegrating. Smiling comes easier, and words flow faster.

There's still the issue of my family stonewalling me in regards to learning my part in the war, but things are looking up. I feel more comfortable in my skin now.