"Yes, father." And like that Ryou's fate was sealed.
~~ She's a young girl, only 16 years old but has the trait of gorgeous white hair that came from her mother's side. Ryou has always been kindhearted, gentle, and caring. But because of those traits she became quiet and shy. Eventually that young girl became a porcelain doll, one who did everything her father told her, because it was her fault. Her fault her mother and sister died. It's her fault everything went wrong that day.
At least that's what she's told.
And she believed it.
Ryou walks down the halls, her blue heels with silver designs click against the tile flooring. Her light blue dress trails behind her a foot. The dress fans out in a simple light layer with ruffles on the ends going upwards to her left hip revealing the layer of silver fabric in the same fashion but once it meets her hips the tight white and blue corset is in place hugging her already perfect body into more than perfection. Her shoulders are bare with two thin pieces of fabric hugging her upper arms. Around her swan-like neck is a golden locket with a picture of her mother and younger sister inside, coming down to lay on top of the girl's slightly expose breasts.
Her white locks fall down her back in layers of curls with her fringe shading her emerald eyes as they lock onto the floor, just as they normally do. Her father told her she has 2 days before she meets her fiancé, the general. She was told she'd have a new dress brought to her by the end of the day and tomorrow would be the day the servants give her a spa treatment so she looks perfect for her husband to be.
Ryou's mind can't help but wonder what kind of man her fiancé is. Is he an abusive man? One who will try and break her already broken self? Will he be possessive and controlling man? What will her do to her when he finds out she's a doll who will do anything he says to ensure his happiness, so she won't be beaten like before.
Her body use to be littered with black and purple bruises, bruises she got when she didn't pay attention to the rules her father put out. The bruises she earned when she refused to break and be molded into what her father wanted. The bruise she earned when she caused her mother and sister to die.
Eventually, much to her hatred, she broke. She became a walking talking porcelain doll. One that obeyed her puppet master's every command. Her current master is her own father but soon her strings will be given to the man she marries, the general.
Ryou finds herself in her mother's garden. Her father couldn't bear it stay alive because it reminded him so much of her mother. He let it die. The once beautiful garden is now a rotting mess of dried out plants that decay. The place is filled with a gloomy feel. Ryou quickly leaves so the memories of spending time with the other three members of her family don't fill her mind and break the carefully put up mask.
She quickly learned that the memories make crystalline tears leak out of her eyes even if she fights them off. She stays away from the memories, running from any place that reminds her of them. But, you see, that's rather difficult because she still lives in the same estate as before.
She shakes her head so she won't dwell on the past. Her face becomes void of emotion as the mask goes up. She lets out a small barely audible sigh as she finds herself in a different garden. The one kept alive. Her father knew if word got out they don't have a beautiful garden then they'd be laughed at. This one, though beautiful as it is, doesn't compare to the beauty of her mother's in Ryou's opinion. She never voices it though knowing she'll earn a smack if she brings up her mother's garden.
She comes to a bench beneath a purple willow one where you can sit with a lover and have privacy. Her eyes widen slightly. Where did that thought come from? Surely she didn't think her fiancé would actually fall for a little doll like herself. She brushes the willows branches away and carefully sits on the bench leaning again the strong willow for support. She lets her gem like eyes drift shut as thoughts fill her mind.
Would he be able to love her? No, that's impossible. Her father even told her, no one will even love a broken thing like her. Yes, she wasn't made for love. She was made to serve the man she's betrothed to.
Her mind continues and there in the deep vast realm of her mind, there's a spark of hope. One that hopes, the man she's engaged to will be a kind man who won't hate her for being broken…