I wake suddenly in the night.
A breeze brushes my leg, which is tucked outside a light blanket. I was sure I had shut my door and window before I fell asleep. Sadly it is a safety precaution so no creeps crawl in while I rest. I open my eyes slowly and do not move. Someone stands in my doorway. They start to move towards me.
They are tall and large, and they are doing a terrible job at being silent. Their footsteps would've woken me up if I hadn't already. I grasp the handle of the ivory knife I keep hidden under my pillow. I had stolen it from the kitchens years ago. It was one of my first weapons. No one would ever imagine me as a little murderer. I never feel safe with the eyes of everyone on me, especially when most want me, or want me dead.
Finally they reach the bed. A glint shows up in the light of the moon. I freeze.
"Too pretty." They say. "Just too damn pretty for your own good"
The voice is low and filled with hatred. It is also familiar. It is a man's voice. Yet I can't place it. I slide my hand slowly out from the pillow, turning my body over softly to position myself better. I slide one leg up a bit so I have fast leverage to move when they won't be expecting it.
"Maybe I just have to take some of that gorgeous face away from you." The voice continues.
Suddenly he grabs my throat with a vice-like grip. I scream, pushing with my leg so I am half sitting half reclining, holding out my knife in front of me. My hair falls out of its twist and bounces into a mess around my face, some falling into my vision.
"Don't touch me!" I yell.
He is big but he is surprisingly quick. Unable to see clearly I am unprepared when my knife is suddenly knocked out of my grip. It skitters across the floor and hits my dresser. So far away. I claw at his face. He grabs my wrists with his second hand so I can't scratch and hit. He traces the dagger down my cheek lightly, not breaking the skin. It is so cold. I yell and scream but don't dare move my head. He squeezes my throat and black spots dance behind my eyes. Why is no one coming? There should always be guards!
"It's for your own good. I promise." He says.
With a sudden press, the dagger slides over the right side of my face, from my forehead to nearly my lips. I gasp in pain as I feel hot blood fall into my eyelashes. I watch in terror as the glint of the knife moves. Expecting another round of pain and another bloody cut, I prepare myself. But the glint moves away as he puts the knife down beside him and holds me close. Whoever this man is, he has much different intentions from those I have encountered before. He is also skilled with a blade and outmatched me easily. My head swims with confusion and pain.
"I'm sorry. I had to." He laughs darkly. I can not see through the darkness and my own blood. But I can still think like a murderer. He has released my wrists to hold me as I bleed onto the satin sheets. I wilt over to reach for the surface of the bed beside him, just wobbly enough to pass as a faint. I nearly do pass out in that moment. But I manage to hold myself together.
I grab the handle of the knife in my fingers and slowly lift it. It is incredibly heavy. Perhaps I am weakened from the attack. It doesn't matter, I am just distracting myself. from the fact that I am still a devil, not a goddess. From causing another death. I breathe with him his last breath, praying to any God for my sanity and for forgiveness.
I cry out and plunge the blade down behind him. It strikes hard and I push with all my little force. The man breaths sharply and releases me to press his hands to his stomach, where the blade is poking through, covered in both our blood.
As he sits back, so close to me, the moon catches on his face, his eyes wide and mouth open in shock.
It is my Father.
I press my hands to my mouth. They slip in my blood as my vision warps and the black spots return.
I have killed my own Father. In some manic rage, he had been trying to scar me. He always thought that was the way I would finally find a husband. I never imagined he would really do it. Especially do it himself. No wonder no guards had come. They had known.
I have killed the King.
I realize he is still breathing slightly. His lips part as he tries to speak.
"You.....always were a monster." He gags. He does not speak again. I sit in shock. It feels like hours have passed but it is really only minutes. I slide from the bed and go to my bath chamber quietly. I wash the blood from my hands until they are only lightly stained cherry pink and slowly run water over my face from the crystal basin. I wince. It stings terribly.
Once it is clean I can see it is long and thin. My skin is angry and red, and it continues to bleed slowly. It is deep enough to scar. I manage a crude smile, though it hurts. It looks really neat, and it is the first thing I see in the mirror. Thank you, Father.
I press a light bandage over my cheek and over most of the cut. I change into a dark robe and grab a scarf. I take my time tucking a dozen small knives into my clothes and weaving my hair into a tight braid. I tuck two throwing daggers into the plaits as well.
I pass his body on my way. I find no sympathy in my heart. He was not a kind man and he deserved no kindness. I turn away and continue.
My rooms are on the first floor, thankfully. I slide over the terrace railing and dash off through the gardens, leaving everything behind.
I am a devil now.
