Eisoptrophobia: the fear of one's own reflection
She hides it behind a steely grin and a condescending tone.
She's afraid.
It may be foolish to be afraid, for only imperfect fools feel fear, but she maintains the facade that hides the quivering, quaking, fearful little girl behind the mask.
She must maintain the mask. No, she must become the mask.
That's what Father wanted.
Perfection.
And that's all she ever wanted to do, give her father what he wanted from her.
He had expected the world of her, his second and last child. He had attempted to raise her older sister Liesel to follow in his footsteps, but she decided to go to medical school instead of law school when their mother died from brain cancer. Father had disapproved, but had still kept in contact with her.
As a result of Liesel's refusal to follow Father's ways, he had put all of his legacy on the shoulders of the silver-haired girl that craved her father's love.
And up until now, she had been doing a pretty darn good job of following in his footsteps.
Too good of a job.
It was about a year or two ago when Father had been arrested for murder.
His pride and ambition had gotten the best of him.
His prosecuting prodigy was convinced that she would not fall in the same way that he had, even though she was walking on the path that he had forged.
That is why she took on Phoenix Wright in the first place.
After all, had Father not been bested by her little brother Miles in the courtroom when that last damning piece of testimony was brought forth? And didn't Phoenix Wright crush Miles in the courtroom several times before? Therefore, if she could best Wright, then she would show the world she was better than her father.
But instead of proving she was better than her father, she continued further down his path to destruction.
In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have whipped Wright so violently after she lost to him, but her obsession with perfection was so intense that she couldn't control it. It also made it easier for her to justify in her mind how her father murdered the defense attorney Edgeworth over a penalty. Her obsession to perfection was only a fraction of that of his, and she had whipped the poor fool Wright into unconsciousness.
But she didn't realize how far she was following the path to destruction until she met the same fate one afternoon that her father had—that is, she was shot in the shoulder in the courthouse.
Like father, like daughter.
It may have been chance that she was the second Von Karma to be shot in the shoulder in that courthouse. But despite her logical and rational mind, she couldn't help but think that it was part of some twisted plan dredged up by a higher power to make her see just how much she resembled her father.
She was afraid of herself after seeing that.
She would have changed her ways, but she didn't know any other way of life than the one she was living.
It was all she ever knew.
That's why she held onto the conch card. She wanted to remind herself of the humanity in the world.
When you are as ambitious as a Von Karma should be, it's easy to forget your opponent is another human being with needs and desires and wishes.
She fully intends to return the card to Maya Fey, its rightful owner, but she is afraid of what will be said in the exchange.
She has not been the most pleasant of people to speak to, to put it lightly, and she is afraid of being rejected when she tries to make amends.
In the meantime, she continues to throw out bitter words and piercing glares to the people around her.
Alone, though, she showers with the bathroom lights turned off because she's afraid to see the person who she's becoming in the mirror.
Franziska Von Karma is afraid of her own reflection.