Emotions that were not allowed

She wasn't one who frequented that end of the castle often. Most people weren't allowed to and she, the ever-loyal, did not use her power often. The armored suits that lined the halls were not to her more refined and delicate tastes. Why was she there then? Well that was a simple question to answer. She had the nose of a hunting dog and easily smell when something was awry.

March's room was draped with red and gold and she sighed, feeling dizzy from his gaudy and over-the-top tastes. But the foreign furnishing was not so awful. Something to do with Fengshui, not that she really cared to understand. Her attention was on the decor was not kept for long. A delicate pale finger traced the ledge of a drawer.

It slid open, revealing a fat book inside. What? Why did March have such weird tastes in literature? Frowning, she set it aside and leaned to take a closer look. Something wasn't right, she could scent it in the air.

So she reached her thin hand inside, fingers groping at the wooden panel at the back. It moved. Something clicked and came apart. She could reach her hand even farther down inside.

There was something there. She could feel the edges, a flat thing with stoned embedded. She plucked it out and her heart instantly sank.

Smuggling an illegal magical tool into the castle walls was a crime punishable by death…!

…

There was poison on her bed stand. Princess Ceci picked it up and traced her finger around the vial with a sigh. August was quick in preparing it for her.

This was supposed to be her weekend, her precious free time, and yet now…she was stuck with this.

Ceci clutched the vial to her chest and rolled around on her fluffy mattress, letting silken sheets embrace her. The chaos in her heart was not so easily quelled. She chanted a cheer in her mind, desperately searching for the courage to do what she was about to do. Ceci was never good at facing herself.

The liquid in the vial was iridescent in color and shimmered under her touch. The Royal Doctor explained that the effects would be immediate. Her fingers tightened around the glass, "I can do this," she chanted one last time.

She flipped open the lid. The contents were dumped into her throat, caressing her esophagus at it trickled down into her belly. Almost immediately, she wanted to puke. Her body protested with rejection.

Princess Ceci convulsed. She curled up into a seated position, one arm clutching her stomach, and another clawing the bed frame. Her teeth ground together, nausea so sharp it strained her jaw. Pain scratched her nerves, her muscles tense and twitching.

So terrible!

So terrible!

The acute pain of self-hatred rippled through her and her eyes watered on instinct. A wretched cry echoed in her room and she couldn't even recognize her own voice. Who knew hatred could be so mind-numbing?

She whimpered, horrific thoughts entered her mind without her permission. Why, oh why, was she never good enough?

She stumbled out her bed and like a wounded animal, crawled towards the full-body-length mirror in the corner of the room. The bile was scratching up her throat but she held it down.

"Why!?" Ceci yelled at her reflection, the pain numbed her reaction at the terrible beast she saw, "Why do you still feel like this, why!? Isn't this what you wanted!?"

Her voice cracked into an ugly sob. What kind of person could bear to hate themselves so vehemently?! Who!? She cried. This self-inflicted cruelty was too much for her. It was simply too damn much.

The poison clogged her veins, halting the flow of magic. She couldn't expel the evil thoughts even if she wanted. Ceci curled up on the floor, face down. Her broken sobs filled the room. The monster in her heart wreaked havoc.

"Isn't this…" her voice cracked from crying, "Isn't this what you wanted?" The Princess couldn't understand just why the dream wasn't good enough? Why couldn't it bring her happiness?

A chuckle chastised her from the depths of her soul, cruel and tyrannical.

'No,' it hummed, 'this is just a nightmare.'

Ceci screamed. Fat globs of tears tumbled to the floor, "No! It's a dream! A dream! A beautiful, wonderful, dream!"

The pain was too much to bear and she began to slam her fists against the ground. The physical pain was not enough to drown out her wretched heart. She clawed at her chest. The white fabric of her blouse strained and tore.

"Die! Just die!" She howled without hope, without reprise.

But the ugly, curling hatred within refused to die and continued to flicker on, strong.

Come night, Ceci was still here, lying on the ground.

Her chest rose and fell in stuttering heaves. Red eyes glassy. She was drenched in sweat and her hair was just a tangled red mess. Even her clothes were torn and her nails left by a collection of red streaks upon her skin.

It was terrible. A whole day rose and fell. And Ceci, the pathetic little girl, failed to kill herself.

Slowly, she stumbled to her feet and swayed. The bed frame was there to offer her support, but only after she knocked her ankle against it first.

Ceci drank in the pain and used it to snap out of her stupor. She stumbled toward the bathroom. A bath was drawn. The water would cleanse her of her sins. Torn clothes discarded on the floor. She sank in. The water was blistering. Her wounds cried, pain sharp.

Ceci's eyes fluttered closed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her magic trickled back into her veins. Slowly, ever so slowly, she regained control over her heart and her brain.

Oh, she thought dumbly in reminder, she really did fail to kill herself.

But the upset in her belly was now muted, distant. And she knew she'd be able to snap out of depression come a few minute's time.

Ceci grinned, but her triumph with tinged with a hint of sadness. Oh well, next time. In Arcadia, there will always be a next time.

Just as she was climbing out of the bath, a fervent rap was heard at her door. Quickly, she used magic to dry herself and summon a full outfit of clothes. This time it was a frilly, knee-length dress, red, of course, and decorated with big girly bows. "Who is it?" Her sweet voice was back. No trace of madness and suffering remained.

"Princess! It is I!" December's voice could be heard on the other side. The unusual panicked tilt in his tone caught her off guard. She rushed to the door and flung it open.

"December! What's wrong!?"

His eyes were red, face ghastly in hue. Princess Ceci saw that he was trembling. But she was more shocked when he sunk to his knees. "Your Highness, please," he begged.

She stood there, stunned, and couldn't say a word.

"I beg of you," he continued with that same pathetic pleading, desperate and full of despair. Emotions that were not allowed in her beautiful kingdom. "Please reconsider March's punishment!"

"What!?" What punishment! And what of March!? She blinked, mouth agape. Just what had happened with her Knight?