Her white pigtails flapped irritatingly as she walked through the palace halls. She was itching to just undo her hair ties, kick off her flats, and relax, but it wasn't worth being berated by her father (It may be your home, but I—no, the kingdom—still wants you to look like the beautiful, proper princess that you are).
"In today's lesson, I was taught to kill flowers," the girl said by way of greeting.
"What? Oh, that's nice…" her mother replied without even looking up.
The daughter narrowed her eyes. She knew she should've been used to it at that point, but she couldn't help but hold out hope. "Then I learned about how wonderful life used to be, when people weren't allowed to ask You-Know-Who to make what they wanted happen. They had to sit by and wait for it to happen on its own. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"The best of fun," the woman agreed without the slightest hint of sarcasm.
"But my favorite part was when we learned how to take our parents' heads and—"
The girl's next tirade was interrupted by high, piercing laughter. She sent a glare the culprit's way.
"Forgive me, Small Lady," the green-haired girl said mockingly, "but if you believe you could get her to listen with a couple sly remarks, you've truly lost your marbles."
Chibiusa bit back a groan. "Not my finest plan, I admit. But at least I'm not chasing after someone else's husband," she snapped.
"At least the person I'm chasing doesn't spend his time staring off into space like a white sheet."
The girl's gaze hardened at the derogatory term. It was one thing if Esmeraude taunted her; she could deal with that. But comparing her mom to those who spent their whole lives in the ward was too much.
"All out of insults, I see?" Esmeraude said when Chibiusa remained silent. "Ah, well. I should be off anyway. Believe it or not, us guardians have a lot to do. Enjoy roaming around your empty palace."
Small Lady was eager to wipe that smug look right off the woman's face, but with her father's words about propriety echoing her head, she decided to keep her mouth shut. Once the green hair was out of sight, she turned back to her mother.
The Queen's expression ranged somewhere between melancholy and confusion. Her daughter tentatively reached out to comfort the "white sheet," and for one glorious moment, her mother spared her a loving look. Then Chibiusa's hand found a resting place on the Queen's shoulder, and the Queen jumped up in alarm.
"N—no!" she cried, her gaze fixated on Chibiusa's eyes—the ones she had inherited from her father. "Don't touch me!"
"Mother, I'm sorry, I—"
But just as quickly as the outburst had started, it stopped again. Queen Serenity fell to her chair and went back to staring out into space, the only place where no one could hurt her.
Unable to stand the sight, her daughter ran out and into the abandoned garden. She picked at one of the decayed flowers, but it was far from engrossing. Her mind kept dragging her back to reality; If Wiseman is so great, why has no one asked him to heal her? If my father went through such pains to save her from that retched prince, why does he leave her in that state and look at me like the newer model? Each answer she came up with was more desperate and ridiculous than the last.
"Having fun playing with the dead?" a familiar voice called.
Chibiusa dropped her flower in fear, but when she looked at the speaker, she found herself releasing a breath of relief. "Uncle Saphir! What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I could ask you the same question," he said, coolly joining her on the ground.
She sat silently for a while, letting the dirt besmirch her dress and watching Saphir for disapproval, until he finally spoke up.
"You don't have to worry—I understand," he assured her. "It's a good place to hide, isn't it?"
Small Lady nodded pensively. "It worked better when I was younger. I could just run here, find a clump of dead bugs to poke at, and know nothing else…" she sighed. "Now, I can never stay distracted for long."
Uncle Saphir stared at the ground, apparently deep in thought. She began wondering if she'd said too much and prepared to apologize when he turned back to her. "Want me to tell you a story, Chibiusa?"
And for the next hour, the dark-haired man brought the princess' spirits up by spinning tales of another world—one filled with flying horses, real greenery, and a thing called joy.
"What happened to it, Uncle?" she inquired when he was done.
Saphir bit his lip. It was one thing to divulge information on a world that sounded almost storybook-like, but it was another to admit that it had been real and explain its untimely demise. "It doesn't matter," he said, sneaking nervous glances to make sure no one had heard him even mention it. "It was just a fable to cheer you up. Nemesis is all there is."
This didn't stop the girl from looking up at the dimly lit sky, as if the fantastical world could appear at any moment. "I wish it wasn't…"
Saphir's paranoia increased by the second, and before he could say anything more dangerous, he rushed her into the black palace. "Come on," he urged. "You look tired." She felt wide awake, but since it was her favorite family member speaking, she didn't protest.
In his haste, Saphir overlooked the fact that there was one being, more hidden than the shadows, that could hear everyone effortlessly: Wiseman, the spirit of Nemesis itself. And it was more than willing to fulfill the girl's wish—in the most exploitive way possible.
It was their law, after all. Embrace us or be forced to.