"Are you sure you'll be alright, Your Highness? Her Majesty does want to keep a close eye on you..." The maid that had helped Levana back to her room opened the door and let her in, said girl limping ahead of her.
"Yes..." The princess gripped the doorframe. "I'll be fine. Thank you," she mumbled. The maid was about to protest, but Levana shot her a cold glare, and she bit her tongue before she bowed and left. Levana closed the door behind her, leaning against it, and she lifted her head, her gaze wandering around the room.
"Hey." A soft voice came from below, and Levana glanced down to see Akiho, who was standing by her feet.
"Hi," Levana replied, her voice raspy. The android rolled forward and wrapped her arms around Levana's legs, burying her face in her skirt.
"I'm glad you're back," she said. "I've really missed you—it gets very lonely without you here."
The princess sniffed and fell to her knees, holding her arms out for a hug. However, instead of falling into her embrace, Akiho gripped Levana's shoulders with her prongs, giving her a good shake. "Don't you ever try anything like that again! What were you thinking?!" she shouted, her sensor flashing, the anger obvious in her voice.
Levana shook her head and pushed her away. "Please, Akiho. I really don't need this right now..." she mumbled, rubbing her temples. Sighing, she glanced over to her desk, frowning as she noticed something was missing. "Where is my toolbox?" She raised an eyebrow.
Akiho's sensor flashed, and she clasped her prongs together. "They took it. A bunch of maids came in yesterday and took out a bunch of stuff—Channary's orders, they said."
Levana's brow furrowed. "What things?"
"Potential hazards—medications, razor blades, cleaning products—and of course, sharp tools." Akiho gestured over to where the toolbox used to be.
It took Levana two seconds to figure out why. Why Channary even cared if she lived or died, however, was completely beyond her. Levana was half expecting the queen to have her put down; now that she finally had an excuse. The princess frowned. She could no longer do anything—taking her life was Channary's privilege. Again.
"I also hid the rope, so don't even try to hang yourself," Akiho announced suddenly, effectively snapping Levana out of her daze.
Levana hadn't even thought of that, but now that the android had mentioned it, it seemed awfully tempting. Of course, she would need a good noose, but her cursed metal fingers made it so that she could barely tie her own hair back.
"I'm taking a shower," she said, annoyed. The effects that the drugs had on her still hadn't completely worn off, and all the overthinking was giving her a headache.
"Don't drown," Akiho called over her shoulder as she rolled away.
"Yeah, yeah," Levana said as she limped to the bathroom, kicking off her shoes and letting her cotton slip fall off her shoulders, the fabric pooling on the tiled floor. She took off her underwear and unwrapped the bandage from her torso, many tendrils of yellowed padding that she threw away carelessly, revealing a long line of stitches running down her side.
A very, very gruesome line of stitches.
She turned to the full length mirror on the bathroom wall, and she cringed at her reflection. Standing before her was not a girl, but a sullen corpse, thin and frail, the stitched gash on her side much deeper than she had first thought. Her skin was deathly pale, her mess of hair dull and her eyes glassy. She chuckled darkly. All she needed was a black cloak and a sickle, and she could've passed for the grim reaper.
Levana shook her head. The grim reaper. She certainly felt like death at the moment.
Stepping into the shower, she turned on the gentlest cycle she knew, free of soaps and shampoo—nothing that would make her injury sting or get infected. The frosted glass panels closed behind her and she let out a sigh as the warm water trickled down her body, loosening up her muscles, bringing a pinkish tint to her ghostly skin. Running her fingers through her tangled auburn hair, she stood on her tiptoes, stretching out her entire being, and it felt heavenly after the many days she spent doing nothing but lying down in a hospital bed. Her hand clenched around the bar that lined the wall, and she arched her back, crying out as a sharp pain surged through her body. She convulsed as she clutched her side, gasping for air.
Levana slumped back against the wall and skid down until she was seated on the wet tile, water still running down her body. She was crying at that point, arms wrapped around her torso, as she started cursing uncontrollably, staring at her metal hand—at the doctors who had made her that way. She hated them. She hated everyone on that stupid excuse for a planet.
She hated Evret for having ruined her, violated her. She hated Sybil for not letting her die. But most of all, she hated Channary. She hated her more than anyone has ever hated another person, and her hatred burned so big and bright, deep within her very soul. She wanted so badly for her to die, to burn in the deepest pits of hell, with an eternity of suffering.
She also despised the baby, the thing growing inside her. She didn't want it at all. The thought of her body producing a new life, conceived in violence and hatred, disgusted her. "This is all your fault..." she spat as she looked down at her belly. "That monster forced you upon me. All you'll do is hurt me, just like anyone else ever has..." She hiccuped. "I...I hate you!"
Levana buried her head in her hands and continued to sob, the water still running down her body. The body that no longer belonged to her. She had been thrown around, like some common object, to be taken and used when anyone so pleased. Already she had been possessed by some sick rapist, and now Channary was forcing her to carry his child—no—his spawn.
Why can't she just let me live in peace?
Not only her body was aching, though. Her heart felt so cracked and damaged, she was sure that it was about to fall out of her chest. All the people that she cared about were gone, killed so easily, and by the same person. In that instant, she had nearly lost her ability to love. What was the point, if the people she came to care for were to die in the end?
A glint to her left caught her eye, and she brought her arm up—her metal hand covering her mouth as more tears spilled down her cheeks. There, on her finger, was Saito's diamond ring, the only thing that the doctors had left untouched. She could've sworn that she had lost it in the lake, that it was gone forever.
"Oh, Saito...what should I do?" she hiccuped, bringing her hand to her chest. "I'm so scared and alone—why did you have to leave me?" Her breath hitched as she continued to cry. "I love you, I miss you, I need you..."
She jumped as she heard a sharp rap on the glass panel, her heart nearly tearing out of her ribcage.
"Levana, are you okay? You've been in there an awfully long time..." she heard Akiho say through the sound of running water.
Levana rubbed her eyes, blinking quickly to clear her vision. "I'll be out in a minute!" she called back. Sighing, she managed to haul herself off the floor, the pain in her side seeming to subside the more she moved. The water cut off with the push of a button, and she shivered, the lack of warmth making goosebumps rise along her body. She stepped out on the mat, heaters coming on automatically with her weight, the hot air baking her damaged skin dry.
She wrapped her hair in a lush white towel in her best attempts to get it to stop dripping. No need to catch a cold on top of everything else. On the counter next to the sink were the only form of medical supplies she was allowed to have: some cotton pads, a few rolls of bandage and a special disinfectant salve.
Her nose crinkled as she opened the jar, a sharp and foul smell rising from the container. She grit her teeth as she dipped her human fingers in it, rubbing the clear jelly over her injury. A soft moan escaped her lips as the salve seemed to magically erase the pain, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. Placing a pad over the gash, she took a roll of bandage and wrapped it around her torso, from her hips to just below her breasts.
She wrapped a second towel around her body before leaving the bathroom, walking barefoot across her lavish chambers before coming to a stop in front of her closet. She pulled out a loose-fitting green dress that covered her from her neck to her toes, the sleeves stopping at her knuckles. She wanted to reveal as little of herself as possible, covering up as much of her body as she could. She could barely even stand to see herself naked—it made her feel so dirty.
She dressed with deliberately slow movements, moving like a robot. Black flats went on her feet and she slipped on some black gloves, before taking a brush and nearly tearing her hair out, trying to make it look presentable. After a few minutes and many hair clumps, her auburn curls fell smoothly down to her waist. She cast out her glamour, covering the scars on her face, and making her body look curvier than it was—adding softness that a month of hunger and sickness had stolen from her figure. Her stark white skin gained a rosy glow, on her cheeks and her neck, giving the illusion of health, as if she were never sick in the first place. Gone were the dark circles under her eyes.
Levana took a deep breath. She felt a little better; a good cry had always helped to deal with her emotions and depression. It wasn't the first time that she was like that, all sad and miserable, but this bout was by far the worst. She had entertained thoughts of suicide many times in the past, but never before had she acted on them. Now, she felt as if maybe it was a good thing that Sybil saved her; the whole attempt had been in the heat of the moment, and Levana was even starting to regret it.
Even though things were bad now, they could always get better, at any time. Her bouts of depression would never last forever, and she hoped that this one was no different. She'll get out of it eventually, and she'll come out stronger than before. She just had to breathe, and take it one step at a time.
After all, suicide was a permanent solution, and her problem, as bad as it was, would only be temporary.
She had never seen a therapist, always too afraid of getting in trouble for talking about her problems to others, but that didn't stop her from reading articles on the net. Tips on how to be happy, and coping with such a dark and abusive family. Optimism and belief in yourself always helped greatly, and knowing that you weren't alone—Levana had Akiho, which had been enough for eight years, so why not now?
The princess smiled for the first time in over a month. She was loved by someone, and she did have a reason to live. Killing herself wasn't her only way out; it was simply the easy one. If she were gone, Channary would win, and Levana would never give her the satisfaction of driving her to her death.
She also knew that Saito would've never wanted her to do that. He had always said that she was strong and brave—now was the time to be those things. She would stand tall, and time would heal her wounds. No matter what Channary did, she would stay alive, and someday, she was going to escape.
"Your Highness?"
Levana's fist clenched as she heard a knock at the door, slightly irritated at the disruption. What did they want now?
"What is it?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.
"My gravest apologies for interrupting, Princess, but I just came to inform you that lunch has been served," a maid said through the door.
A moment of silence. "I'm not hungry."
"Her Majesty has requested that you make an appearance, Your Highness."
Levana let out a groan. "And by 'requested', you mean 'demanded', right?"
She heard the maid sigh. "I'm afraid so, Princess."
Levana's lips curled into a frown, and she threw a lone shoe back into her messy closet before slamming the sleek doors shut. "Tell Channary I'll be there in a moment," she called out over her shoulder.
"Of course."
She waited until the maid's footsteps faded out as she walked away, down to the dining room.
"The tyrant wants lunch with you?" Akiho asked from where she was sitting on the desk, fiddling with the netscreen.
"Unfortunately. But, duty calls," Levana sighed. "I'll see you later, Akiho."
"I'm sure you'll have loads of fun." The android's voice carried a snide air.
Levana managed a small smile. "Your work on your sarcasm is really paying off."
With a final sigh, she trudged over to the door and left her room, walking slowly down the hallway. She wasn't limping anymore, but she still tried not to make any sudden movements. Levana took the stairs instead of the elevator, wanting to make Channary wait as long as possible. Slowly, as slow as she dared, she went down to the second floor, and immediately to her right were the large, ominous doors leading to the lavish dining room.
She felt queasy already.
Only the scrape of utensils against porcelain and the scuffling of the servants' feet broke the silence of the dining room, neither of the sisters wanting to make any conversation.
Channary was, like always, eating her food daintily with not the slightest slip up, her posture perfect and poised.
Levana, on the other hand, seemed to wish death upon her peking duck, stabbing it repeatedly with her fork.
"Your food is already dead, you know. It's not going to run off on you," the queen said, raising an eyebrow.
"It never hurts to double check," Levana replied, her voice low and filled with venom as she slammed her fork into the meat once again—making the table shake a bit with the sudden force. Channary's eyes widened as her wine glass nearly toppled over, catching it before it spilled and stained her silk dress.
Shaking her head, the queen brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of the maroon liquor. Despite the red of her lipstick, no mark was left on the glass. "You are acting like a brat," she smirked, setting her glass back on the table. "Such bad table manners. Were you raised in the menagerie?"
Levana hissed, setting her fork down slowly, her shoulders hunched. Channary took a bite of her rice, a small amount of pearly white grain covered with orange sauce. Levana had wanted some, but she was strictly rationed—only a small portion of meat and vegetables, no starch or grain. Although she was normally allowed to drink a small glass of wine, all she had was boring old water. She expected her homecoming meal to be a bit more...extravagant.
"I just remembered; I never explained why I wanted you here in the first place," Channary said suddenly, taking another sip of her wine.
"Do share," Levana grumbled.
"Well, for the past few days I've been thinking about your...situation, and I figured that you would need a little extra protection for the next few months. You know how much I care about your well being, little sister."
Levana said nothing.
"So," the queen continued, "I've taken the liberty of assigning you a personal guard."
The princess quirked a slender eyebrow. "How thoughtful of you," she spat, picking up her spoon and scooping up some peas.
Channary sighed. "Yes," she put a finger to her lips. "Come to think of it, he should be here any minute. I thought I'd invite him for lunch as well, but I wonder what's keeping him."
As if by coincidence, the door at the end of the room swung open, and both sisters turned to look at the man who walked in. For a moment, nothing happened. Levana just stared at him, her brain trying to register what was going on—until she suddenly pieced it together. Her jaw dropped, and her spoon fell back on the table, peas flying off and bouncing around.
The queen clapped her hands together. "Ah, Sir Hayle! I'm so glad that you could join us," she chirped, a glowing smile on her face.
Levana shot up like an arrow, shoving her chair away from the table in the process, the legs screeching across the marble floor. "What the hell are YOU doing here?!" she screeched, pointing straight at him.
"Levana, this is your personal guard," Channary said carefully, as if she were speaking to a very slow child.
Levana's teeth were clenched, her lips curled into a sneer, and her entire body was shaking, her cheeks red and blotchy.
"Well, Levana?" Channary stood as well, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't be rude—aren't you going to greet your personal guard?"
Tears of anger pricked the back of Levana's eyes, and she spun around, stomping towards the door on the other side of the vast room.
"Levana! Where do you think you're—"
"Oh, SCREW YOU!" the princess screamed, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"PRINCESS LEVANA OF LUNA, HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY?!" Channary roared, slamming her hands down on the table. Levana bolted out the door, and her sobs could be heard all the way down the hall. Most of the servants had snuck out of the room right before the yelling began, but Evret hadn't moved, standing tall with his hands behind his back, completely unfazed.
It took Channary a moment to soothe her ragged breathing. Her hands fisted at her sides, and her blood boiled. It seemed like her head was about to pop.
Evret stepped forward. "Your Majesty, should I—"
"Yes, go after her," the queen spat. Evret nodded, leaving the same way Levana had, moving with long strides.
He wasn't very far behind her, and even though Levana was walking as fast as she could, she was still quite impaired from her wound—not to mention her healing ribs. Within a minute, she could hear his approaching footsteps, and she charged up the marble stairs, nearly tripping over the long skirt of her dress. Still, she continued on, even when the pain in her side started to come back. It began as a dull throbbing, but it grew stronger the more she moved, and she swore internally.
"Princess!"
Evret's loud voice made her blood run cold, and sudden, unwelcome memories came to her—of that horrid night, of his cruel words, and of his lustful and terrifying touch. Combined with the flaring pain, it was too much, and she convulsed, leaning against the wall for support. Her breath came out in short, shallow gasps, as she tried to make the hurt go away.
"Your Highness!" she heard his voice much closer now, as he came to stand right in front of her. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern, reaching out to help.
"No! Don't touch me!" Levana shrieked, as she budged past him and broke out into a run, trying to ignore the excruciating pain—although she was close to fainting. Evret went after her, having no trouble catching up. She tried to go faster, but the stress and the fear and the pain were making her see double. She lost it, though, when she felt him grab onto her arm. Her mind went into overdrive, and she squirmed relentlessly, anything to escape his vice-like grip.
"Levana, calm down—"
"NO! SOMEONE, PLEASE, HELP ME!" she screamed on the top of her lungs, nearly shattering her vocal cords. Evret winced, his ears ringing from the harsh sound. Someone was bound to have heard that.
Sure enough, within a minute there were five guards racing onto the scene, and Evret let go of her immediately. Levana shot away from him, huddling against the wall, trying her best not to pass out.
"Captain, what's going on here?" the tallest one shouted, worried by the call of distress.
"Nothing that concerns you." Evret shooed him away, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've got this under control."
The guard closest to him scoffed. "Like hell you do. If you have it under control, how come the princess was screaming bloody murder?"
Evret grit his teeth. "I am under Her Majesty's command and I am simply following her orders. I will not stand here and be questioned by the likes of you," he sneered.
The guard ignored him, walking over to Levana. "Was he bothering you, Your Highness?" he asked softly, genuinely concerned. His presence did nothing at all to comfort her; if anything, it made her even more agitated.
"Stay...stay away from me..." she whimpered, pressing herself even more against the wall, as if she wanted to melt into it.
"Please, Princess. I won't hurt you—I'm just trying to help." He reached a hand out. Levana's gaze darted back and forth, trying to find an escape, but they had her trapped.
"That's enough, Gerard. Step away from her." A stern voice rang out through the hall, and everyone froze.
Gerard's face fell. "My apologies, Thaumaturge Mira," he mumbled as he backed away. Sybil tossed back her silky raven hair, the click of her heels the only thing that could be heard as she walked over to them. Her beautiful face seemed shrouded in darkness, her slate grey eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a scowl.
"I want you all out of here this instant—get back to work. Even you, Sir Hayle."
Evret blinked. "But Her Majesty—"
"I don't care if Her Majesty told you to do whatever it is you're doing. I'm quite sure that creating such a scene in the middle of the hallway will make her pretty upset. Wouldn't you agree?" Sybil put her hands on her hips, quirking an eyebrow.
Evret sneered. "Whatever you say, Thaumaturge Mira," he spat, and a flash of contempt set Sybil's jaw. "Back to your stations, the lot of you!" he shouted, and the guards obeyed, a few muttering crass words under their breath. Evret shot Sybil one last dirty look before walking away, and she made a face behind his back.
Levana hadn't moved, still pressed against the wall, and she was clutching her side, trying to relieve the pain. Her body tensed as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder—but she didn't fight, much too weak to even throw a punch.
"Levana, are you alright?"
She lifted her head, sniffling and trying to blink away her tears. "No."
Sybil glanced down at Levana's arm, which was still clutched at her side, the fabric of her dress gripped in her fingers. "It hurts, doesn't it?"
Levana bit her lip and nodded, letting out a soft whimper as the pain spiked once again. Sybil's gaze softened. "Come on, I'll help you to your room," she said softly. Levana was too tired to protest, and she took a step forward, but slumped forward as soon as she did. Sybil caught her before she could fall.
"Be careful, Princess," Sybil chuckled slightly.
Levana immediately righted herself, regaining her footing. "I'm sorry..."
"No need to apologize. Can you walk on your own, or should I carry you?"
The princess flushed. "I can walk myself," she muttered.
Sybil nodded, and Levana took a deep breath, stepping forward tentatively. She put one foot in front of the other, until she walked at a slow yet steady pace. Sybil followed next to her, ready to reach out and catch her if she were to fall again. Thankfully, they weren't too far from Levana's room, and Sybil politely opened the door for her. Levana thanked her under her breath, slumping down on her bed, her body trembling slightly. She glanced around, wondering why Akiho hadn't greeted her—until she saw her plugged into her charging port by the wall. A battery icon was displayed on her black sensor, and the rectangle was nearly empty. Levana had momentarily forgotten that Akiho would usually charge herself when the princess was either out or asleep.
Without hesitation, Sybil grabbed an empty glass from the desk and filled it with water from the bathroom sink, adding a few ice cubes from a tray on the shelf for good measure. She went back to Levana, as she took out a plastic pill tray from her pocket.
She popped one out with her finger. "Here, take this," she said, holding the pill out in one hand and the glass of water in the other.
Levana eyed the small red tablet warily. "What is that?"
"Ibuprofen. It'll help with the pain."
Levana took the pill from Sybil's open palm, popping it in her mouth as she grabbed the glass of water. The cold glass was refreshing against her flushed skin, and she brought it to her mouth—washing the pill down and soothing her sore throat at the same time. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she stopped trembling.
Sybil raised an eyebrow. "Better?"
"Yes. Thank you," Levana said, her voice slightly raspy. "Do you always carry those around?"
"Usually. I tend to get really bad headaches," Sybil replied calmly, slipping the pills back in her pocket. An awkward silence fell upon them, neither knowing what to say.
"So, what was that about, anyway?" Sybil asked after a moment.
Levana's breath caught in her throat, and it took her a minute to come up with a response. "Channary assigned him as my personal guard," she muttered.
"Him?" Sybil's brow furrowed. "Do you mean Sir Hayle?"
Levana nodded, and something akin to fury twisted her face in odd ways.
"The captain as your personal guard? That's a new one..." Sybil clucked her tongue, deep in thought. "That's about the last job in the world one would expect a man of his rank to assume."
"Channary chose him just for me," Levana sneered, the sarcasm lost on Sybil.
"Why?"
Levana brought her knees up to her chest. "I don't want to talk about it."
Sybil's brow creased even more. "Why not—"
"If you want to know so bad, go and ask Channary yourself. This conversation is over." Levana cut her off, rolling around as fast as she dared, the pain in her side and chest still not completely gone.
Sybil took a step back. "I'm sorry, Your Highness. I shouldn't have asked." She was still completely in the dark, but she let the subject go for the time being. "I guess I should leave you be, then. Try to take a nap; it will help your body heal, and you'll feel much better."
"Yeah, whatever," Levana grumbled.
Sybil let out a sigh as she walked away, leaving the room as silently as she could. Even after she left, Levana stayed in her ball, afraid that even the slightest movement would shake off the effects of the painkillers. A single tear of anger and frustration rolled down her cheek, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to avoid full-on crying; she would save that for when she didn't feel like a boulder was crushing her ribs. She let go of her glamour, wallowing in her heavy, broken body. She felt no different from before. She was still in pain, and she still wanted so badly to die—to be somewhere safe, with no more hurt, no more suffering.
The darkness had returned.
So much for getting better.