IV ※ Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall: Who's the Most Doomed of Them All?

"As I said to Rai before, I'm just watching my own death," I repeated firmly, letting the words hang heavy in the air. My voice was calm, deliberate, but there was a sharp edge to it that I didn't bother to conceal. "I've told you both how you'll die. Out of courtesy. Out of consideration. I didn't have to, but I did. So why can't I know how my death will be when this power is mine? Isn't it my right to know?"

I rolled my shoulders slowly, feeling the weight of their stares pressing down on me. My fingers brushed across my face, wiping away the blood that streaked my skin. It was sticky, warm, and almost comforting in its familiarity. I dropped my hand, smearing the crimson tears onto my gown, and let out a low, humorless laugh.

"I was curious," I continued, as if their shock wasn't worth pausing for. "More than that, I wanted to know what I look like. Do you know the last time I actually saw myself in the mirror? I was three years old. Three. So now, here I am, looking at myself for the first time in nearly two decades. And guess what? I look absolutely fucking miserable. Satisfied?"

I tilted my head, arching an eyebrow at them, waiting for their inevitable outrage. But when it didn't come, I pressed on. "Now, why don't you both stop throwing a tantrum over something that does not concern either of you and just ask me what you want to know? Or better yet, leave."

I turned my bloodshot eyes back to them, relishing the discomfort that rippled across their faces. It was amusing. Too amusing. Aeneas was the first to find his voice, though his words were cautious, hesitant. "How much time do you have left?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "Fifty-two years," I replied coolly, my voice steady. Then I added silently to myself: Minus fifty, that is.

Rai's reaction was as predictable as it was infuriating. His face twisted with disgust, his voice rising as he practically spat the words at me. "How can a horrible person like you live so long while my sisters died so young? How is that fair?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, though my patience was wearing thin. His self-righteous anger was laughable. If he knew the truth—that I only had two years left—he'd probably throw a fucking parade. But I wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. Let him think what he wanted. Let him seethe. It didn't matter to me.

"Right?" I said, my grin stretching wider, crazier, as I stared him down. "If what everyone says is true, then I am a horrible person indeed. Damn, how can a murderer like me stay alive for so damn long? I, who murdered my family and my best friend. The gods are so unfair," I mocked, my tone dripping with acid. My blood-red eyes locked on his, unflinching. "Isn't that what you think, brother?"

His jaw tightened, and I could see the anger burning in his eyes. Good. Let him burn.

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and tilted my head mockingly. "Brother, you may be the Heir Apparent and next Duke of our house, but don't get it twisted. You are still in the same position as me. Don't act like you're above me, like you're untouchable."

Then, without turning my gaze, I shifted my attention to Aeneas. "The same goes for you," I added coldly. "Don't think for a second that you're any different. Now, unless you both want me to stop using the blindfold permanently, get the fuck out of my chambers."

I didn't raise my voice, but the steel in my words was enough to cut through the tension like a blade. Both of them stiffened, their anger palpable, but they didn't argue. Instead, they turned and stalked out of the room, their heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

As they left, I caught a snippet of their whispered conversation. "She has completely lost it this time," Rai muttered, his voice laced with frustration. Aeneas mumbled something in agreement, but I didn't care enough to decipher it.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, I let out a shaky breath, my shoulders slumping as the weight of the confrontation finally settled on me. My legs gave out beneath me, and I sank to the floor, kneeling in front of the mirror. I stared at my reflection, at the blood streaking my face, at the hollow, haunted look in my eyes.

Tears spilled over again, hot and relentless, and I didn't bother to wipe them away this time. I let them fall, let them stain my gown and pool on the floor around me. My chest heaved with silent sobs, and for a moment, I felt like I was drowning.

Of course, I hadn't meant everything I said to them. Not entirely. But I couldn't hold it in anymore. The pressure, the anger, the grief—it was too much. They were so used to saying whatever they wanted to me, so used to spitting their venom while I stayed silent and took it. I let it happen for so long that they probably thought I didn't have a voice, that I didn't have the strength to fight back.

But they were wrong.

Avy used to say that there was a dragon asleep inside me, a beast lying dormant, waiting for the moment I would finally snap. She always warned that when that moment came, everyone around me would regret it. Maybe she was right. Maybe that moment had finally arrived.

I stared at my reflection, my blood-red eyes glinting with a mix of defiance and despair. If I had dared to look in the mirror and see my death sooner, maybe I would have lived differently. Maybe I would have embraced life more fully instead of closing myself off, instead of letting the weight of Avy's death crush me.

But it was too late now. I had wasted so much time, and the clock was still ticking.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I forced myself to think. There had to be a way out of this. A way to avoid the Crown Princess competition, to avoid wasting an entire year of what little time I had left. Maybe I could renounce my title, my position, my claim to the throne. If I gave it all up, I wouldn't be of any use to them. I wouldn't have to participate.

The Queen had told me, after Avy's death, that if I ever needed anything—anything at all—I should go to her and the King in person. Was that why they ignored my letter? Was that their way of forcing me to face them?

I hadn't set foot in Soleil Keeper since Avyanna died. I couldn't bring myself to. It reminded me too much of her, of everything I had lost. And besides, everyone there hated me. They blamed me for her death, just like they blamed me for everything else.

And then there was Daisuke. I couldn't see him again. I couldn't. Not after everything. But now… now I knew he wouldn't kill me for another two years. That meant I wasn't in immediate danger, right? Maybe I could face him. Maybe I could survive it.

Wiping my face clean, I pushed myself to my feet. My legs trembled beneath me, but I ignored it. I crossed the room and selected a dress, something simple yet presentable. If I was going to do this, I had to look the part.

I took one last glance at my reflection, at the blood staining my gown, at the defiant glint in my eyes. Then, without hesitation, I turned and walked out the door.