Emma is sitting on a vivid red settee, surrounded by golden furnishings and a deep purple rug. She is lost in her thoughts...
The masquerade is so hard to keep up sometimes. I want to be normal. I want to love and be loved. It’s been so long I don’t remember what it’s like anymore. I long for the connections of my past. The kindred here are not my kind. They are cruel, so cruel. The kine, these high society kine are as cruel as the kindred. They judge and condemn in a blink of the eye. They believe I am someone I’m not, that is what is saving me. The kindred among them spread rumors causing the kine to be socially exiled if they don’t follow the strict social rules set by the kindred. The fools, they are so power hungry that they would sell their family for the power they seek. And the kindred hold all the power here. The kine are their puppets. I am their puppet.
Emma takes the blade and cuts deeply into her skin on her stomach. She watches the blood pool before it starts a small stream of crimson run down her creamy white skin.
James, oh James, why did you send me here? I don’t know that I can make it here another year. Then we are expected to stay for a few more years after that. I can’t and won’t make it.
GRRRRRRRRAAAAAAWWWWWW! Emma roars. Where the hell are you?
Emma cuts into her thigh. Watching the blood bubble up she smiles. Relief is present. Her thoughts calming.
I can play the game. I can do it. I will push the beast into submission. I will be what they want me to be. James must have sent me here for a reason. Everywhere he has sent me was to learn something more. I will endure being dressed and polished. I will make my presentations. I will be the perfect hostess. I regret the day that the Prince of this domain learned I can fight. I became his security. A pretty face who can kick serious ass. Now I must endure the nightly take over of my will.
Emma cuts a hash mark onto her left breast. The blood drips like tears. She cuts a few more times. Her whole body is crying. Crying out for what her life has become. When she is done, she spends a vitae to heal. He will be here soon for her. To take her over again. To make her his for the night. To be his eyes and ears and lover.
Everybody’s Fooled, but I’m the fool. Emma says as she picks up the brush and glides it through her black thick hair. Her eyes go to a dark dark green as the beast is put in its place.
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