Blood Peonies (Who Made Me a Princess)

Midnight Visit

The first thing she saw was her reflection. So I'm on my bed. She observed herself in the mirror and noted that she was cleaned and bandaged. During times like this she could really appreciate her mirror canopied bed for it has allowed her to observe herself when she is bedridden like this. The training session was a brutal one, more brutal than the other ones up to date, Bel noticed. She eyed her bandages where they covered her torso and her arms, she could see a bit of the bandages peeking through her nightgown. She recalls feeling a presence before she fainted. It must be Eriole. Eriole has clothed her with one of her more risque nightgowns so her arms and a bit of her chest are visible. Most likely to avoid maceration of my wounds. My injuries are extensive and wearing warmer clothing will make me sweat and infect my wounds. Making an estimate with how long I have to be bedridden, Eriole will have to resort to lighter bandages to keep moisture to a minimum.

With how long Bel has been physically ... trained since she was four, she knows the importance of proper wound bandaging intimately and has made sure that Eriole also knows about it. She doesn't want to experience again having bedsores severe enough that she has to undergo tissue debridement and skin grafting. She has a litany of scars already due to her accumulated injuries, she doesn't need any more.

Bel stares at her reflection with a blank expression. She likes staring at herself, not out of vanity but more because of self-introspection. Eriole once commented that Bel is always looking entranced when she looks at her reflection. Bel believed Eriole when she heard that as a kid because she does find her reflection entrancing. But as she grows older, more mature, more jaded and cynical, she has come to the conclusion that she is entranced with her reflection not because she find herself beautiful but because she doesn't recognize the person in the mirror.

She remembers being scared upon her realization. She recalls when she was touching her cheeks, her nose, her lips, her brows but she still doesn't think that what she was seeing was her. It was like she is dissociating from her own image, the reflection not matching to how Bel knows she is supposed to look. This is a reason why Bel doesn't particularly care about the compliments being thrown her way because she doesn't consider herself what they describe her to be. She feels fake and she feels like she's wearing another people's skin. Sometimes the feeling of dissociation becomes too much and consumes her that she starts to hate and harm herself.

She tries not to think about it but during times like these where she has no other mental stimulation other than her reflection, she cannot help but have her thoughts veer towards that direction. Bel shakes her head for a bit and considers her position now that she has killed the Duke. Her thoughts halted and she watched as her eyes widened in her reflection's face.

She killed the Duke.

Is it really just that simple?

Bel is aware that she is not exactly the epitome of stability as a person and she is intimately aware of how messed up she is for being used to violence. But never in her life has she pondered about killing someone. She has killed. And honestly, she doesn't feel any different. Is it really that easy to end a life? To let other people's flesh fall from her sword and their blood drench her hands? Will it get easier? Should she feel remorse? Bel knows she should feel remorse but she just feels... nothing. She feels empty. Indifferent. No joy or satisfaction or even horror for her actions. Does she regret it? No. Does she feel horrible for it? Also no. Will she do it again?

...

The question was left hanging and Bel doesn't know if she should answer it.

She doesn't really have a clear recollection of how she did it, if she were honest with herself. All she could recall was the loud static and her messed up senses, most likely induced by the poison injected into her. Bel dismissed the thought. She doesn't want to think about it anymore. She admits that it was hasty and unplanned on her part but what's done is done. Now she has to face the consequences of her actions.