Bleeding Bloodlines

~Pretty Princess~

Casimir

The first time I had seen her in the boss's office, I thought she was weird to look at; different from the others. I had seen what we refer to as the blood-cursed before. They filled every hall of this manor-like palace, making them impossible to ignore. A creature deformed each bloodline with inhuman hair colors to features like slit pupils and scales, but I had never seen one like her.

Deep purple curls almost as black as midnight spiraled down her back. Large eyes full of light, and only a few shades lighter than her hair, maybe lilac. She hummed to herself, drawing on the floor in a dress made for royalty. Expensive frills and layers pooled around her. She was unusually small for a cursed one. She didn't seem like she belonged here.

Innocent and sweet.

That was my first impression. However, that light extinguished in the blink of an eye when we left the boss's office. She pressed a knife to my throat before I could move... an entirely different woman. I was sixteen, and she was merely fifteen. That night remains imprinted in my mind. I will never forget the snarl, the exposure of those elongated canines, and the way her pupils distorted themselves into slits.

Terrifying and manipulative. She is a woman finding security in power by molding herself to fit a role. She is as cunning as she is devious.

That was my last impression.

I did not see her often. She wasn't one to make many appearances. Katirina typically couldn't be located outside alone. She always appears publicly with the boss or somebody close to him. Even when the boss let us meet, he'd stalked in a corner, eyeing Katirina.

Cain would never leave her alone with somebody else without him for long.

She worked solo, kept to herself, and even at events like this, she didn't seem to want anything to do with anybody.

My eyes follow her form as she descends the stairs, fooling everybody with that naive smile. They all whisper behind her back, but none of them have seen what I've seen.

They haven't seen the little princess drenched in blood with a smile on her face as she examines her work, proud and yet so revolted by herself concurrently. They've never heard her hiss through a clenched jaw to spout vile words.

To everybody, the real Katirina is before them, a giddy and naive girl who's never been outside her father's protection. Idiots, the lot of them. They place their bets on who can secure the doll the fastest. Each aims to gain that position as heir, not knowing she'd first slit their throats before she gives them the chance to woo her.

None of them see her discomfort as she stands there in red. It's not her color, and yet it always seems to suit her perfectly. Let it be her hands stained crimson with the blood she's spilled or the deep red of the fabric of the dress she's adorned in.

A spoiled rotten child who could be called insane. I scoff, observing for threats, never truly focusing on her. If harm comes to Katirina, I am positive Cain would have my head.

I focus on the men who stand together. One is at least reasonably close to her age, but the other is too old.

Today is her birthday banquet. I look at everything and find nothing that Katirina would like. It's clear she didn't get a say in the decorations, which means everything happening tonight revolves around satisfying Cain.

She seems pitiful in these moments, her lack of control over her life so clearly displayed.

I will never understand why she continues to play a role she found herself cast into without an audition. She clearly despises it, so why stay?