Ruthless Reflections
Prologue: Part I

Disclaimer: I own no characters (save for originals), places, terms (again, except for originals), et cetera. They all, respectively, belong to the incredible J. K. Rowling. I am receiving no income by posting this, but only do so because I can. This is fan fiction, and I am merely a fan who loves to write fiction.

Note: The prologue is split into two separate parts due to its length. Please be aware of that.

"Jealousy is, indeed, a poor medium to secure a love, but it is a secure medium to destroy one's self-respect. For jealous people, like dope-fiends, stoop to the lowest level and, in the end, inspire only disgust and loathing." —Emma Goldman

Oh, how she hated her.

Miriam Toolage glared into her glass, unknowingly wishing the glass to shatter. Her arms were folded across her slim waist, her glass held up close to her face with her left hand. She stood against the wall, watching the dancers in the middle of the room swirl past. Her mother was at her side, talking to an older woman Miriam had met earlier. She didn't really care to remember the woman's name.

To anyone who would be glancing at her, Miriam appeared to be simply bored and willing to leave her mother's matronly side. Her dark chocolate brown hair was pulled back and pinned to the top of her head in a way that was the current fashion. Small tendrils of hair were left undone purposefully, an attempt to make her seem more willing and lure a possible suitor.

The light blue dress enhanced her features, which were rather lovely on their own. Her dark brown eyes smoldered with a passion in everything she did; she was a very zealous person. She really did love life; there were some things in it that she would rather squash.

Despite her calm veneer, her insides were simmering, near to bursting, even, with barely controlled anger. And it all boiled down to her coquettish sister and her enraging ways.

Mary Toolage was nineteen months younger than Miriam, but one wouldn't have guessed it. The two sisters looked so much alike that many had mistaken them for twins. At first, the thought of them being so had drawn many a-person to their sides, eager to see this strange phenomenon. However, once word got out that they were not, their popularity began to dwindle.

At least, Miriam's popularity had.

Mary, on the other hand, began to thrive. At every ball or party the family had gone to, it was Mary's laugh that haunted Miriam. Even in the loudest and most crowded of places, her humor rang out strong. That was when it all had started.

Miriam wasn't a dunce; she understood that Mary had a special trait in her personality that attained her the attention she loved. Miriam would even admit it, freely and willingly, to anyone who would question about Mary. Mary was a force to reckon with, a sweet force. Miriam only wished it was her with the vibrant personality. She craved the attention, too.

The fact that Miriam had been on the marriage market longer than Mary sent sharp pains into Miriam's chest. This was her third season; Mary was on her second. While Miriam actually wanted to get married—she wanted a family, wanted kids—Mary had repeatedly said that she was averse to the thought. She was a free-floater; she wanted nothing to tie her down.

Then why was it that she was getting all of the luck?

Recently, Mary had become quite cozy with a well-known rake. Lord Kain McCollum had recently inherited his father's title and lands. His sire's last words to him were to marry and produce many kin, so he was a newly found enthusiast on the marriage grounds. Of course, once his eyes landed on Mary, he saw no one else.

Miriam knew that's what had happened, because the same thing happened to her. When she had first seen the man, she had been instantly attracted to him. After a few balls and dances together, she had fallen irrevocably in love. She was now determined to make him her husband.

Of course, things seemed to be progressing quite nicely in that direction until he had met Mary. After that, he had barely paid attention to Miriam. Oh, she had tried to get his attention, get him to dance with her—do anything to keep what was between them alive!—but he was already trapped. Mary had spun her web and caught him for her prey.

Kain's rejection wasn't what hurt the most; it was that Miriam had had a glance at what could have been, and she had started to hope. She had told Mary of her hopes and dreams. Mary had even said she felt that they would suit quite nicely! Miriam had felt so sure of herself . . . and then the b¡tch had to ruin everything.

Mary had to befriend Kain, pull her away from Miriam. She often thought that Mary had been jealous at one time, but quickly learned that Mary never felt that sharp prick. No, she was far too confident; she knew she was beautiful, enticing, and amusing. She used the men's weak constitutions to her advantage. And, right when they thought they had her right where they wanted her, she broke them in half.

Oh, how she hated her.

A cold wind ruffled the skirts of Miriam's dress. She looked up in the direction from which the breeze had flown from and froze. Walking in from a journey on the balcony was Mary and Lord Kain. Although they were at a respectful distance from one another, the green claws of jealousy stroked Miriam's throat.

That should have been me! she thought viciously.

Kain, who had been holding the door opened, caught up with Mary. Catching her right hand, he placed it onto his arm and held it there. Mary smiled at him, a delicate, warm smile that could melt the heart of any cold man. It was no wonder that Kain had fallen for her.

They walked forward and entered the throng of dancing couples. Pulling her into his embrace, Kain began to sway them to the music. It was then that Miriam had lost sight of them within the crowd.

It was their second dance of the evening, her sixth since arriving. Miriam had kept count, only because she hadn't had any of her own dance partners to distract her. No, everyone was too preoccupied with Mary, with the pretty smile and bewitching laugh, to even glance at Miriam. It was the moments like this one when Miriam wished Mary would just vanish.

"Mary and Kain make such a handsome couple, don't they, dear?" Miriam's mother said to her.

Miriam turned her body away from the dancing fops and faced her mother. She sighed and shrugged, unsure of what to say. The lady her mother had been talking to saved Miriam from making a comment, however, by saying, "Compliment each other nicely, they do."

With her mother's attention diverted once more, Miriam took that moment to drain her glass in one gulp, uncaring to the consequences. When she turned to look for someone carrying fresh, full wineglasses, Miriam had the misfortune to catch the handsome couple swirl by, both smiling at each other. Suddenly, the urge to throw her crystal glass at her sister filled her.

Quelling it, she vowed that Mary would get her due. She would pay for making Miriam suffer the way she did. Whether Miriam's reaction was justified or not, she didn't stop to think about it. All she knew was that it was Mary's turn to feel pain.

End of Prologue: Part I.