the amaranthine palace.

"the hall of bacchus"

crown square, imperial ballroom.

[ grape-dyed cloth, balustrade-worn; candlelit tables, an ornate glimmer; a girl in a resplendent dress, glistening as starlight against the night sky. beside her is a man of large stature, imposing, with hair the color of bone and eyes just as burned as her own; he is looking at her with ill-disguised disdain ]

[break]
she is turning sixteen, she knows nothing other than how to bleed, she is a terrified girl embodying beauty, surrounded by things she would rather unsee.[break]
like: her face, in his, the way she can pick out every part of him that belongs to her — every part of the monster, stretched over her; she, encased. like: the ballroom done up and formal-made, ready to entertain droves of people only here for her name; sickening, how easy it was to pretty her cage. like: the constant chase for a gaze that wants nothing but to turn her to ash; to disown her; to throw her to the wolves she is meant to belong to.[break]

"don't slouch, you look like an ape. [break]at least refrain from being a disgrace on your birthday."

can you blame her for wanting to scream? to reach into his mouth and cut his tongue to pieces? to pluck his eyes out, set them to boil, to burn the same ways her own do, in the moments she is alone with no one but the moon?[break]
you could at least pretend to like me, she wanted to say, just for one day. [break]
she could taste it settling, teetering on the edge of collapse, but she holds it back; her hope died a long while past, and with it any part of her that recognized him for what he was meant to, but what he never wanted to, be— her father.[break]
it was meaningless, of course; another dead thing she would beat, over and over, if she let herself be; no, tonight was her debut, when the future was meant to bear fruit, and if she had any hope of breaking out of their hold, she had to play the part foretold.[break]
so she smiles; she says, "of course" and ducks her head, demeans herself to a man who would spit upon her if he had the chance.[break]
later that night, under a dark, moonlit sky, she takes center stage; shining; the star of a show performed in bad faith.

vulcan highlands.
"ichor: spa and massage parlor"[break]ground floor, the elysium ski resort and spa.

the day after training with giselle reid.

[ there is a woman, moon-soaked and fair, her bare back to the sky and her head hand-rested, eyes-closed; hot stones singe her supple skin, freshly massaged and loosened. she is surrounded by gold-tipped fountains and the lingering smell of potpourri; the faint keys of a piano can be heard, flowing into the room with a soothing, melodic tune ]

despite the new hands on her body, it was another's that echoed over her skin; giselle reid, she remembers, cradles the name in her mouth as if to coax back its taste.[break]
perhaps she was still a little drunk on it, with the heady feeling of the woman's skin on her own, the soft press of her lips, the small, delicious noises she would let leave; how she mirrored amavi's ministrations just as greedily. [break]
she was stuck in the way she had felt, [break]lost in a memory, writhing under xiomara's—[break]

( huh? )

starry eyes alight, open and urge her brows to tighten; somewhere, underneath the electric hum that danced over her flesh, a pallas cat sinks his teeth into her chest— tears it, and then her heart, apart.[break]
"you have not thought of her in a long time."[break]
astraios is perched atop a fountain to her left, the same way her head turned to rest; his feathers are shimmering particularly bright, touched by stardusted light, a twinkling sky against a white night. he is looking at her, and if his features could contort, he would have a puzzle wrinkle his gaze.[break]

a beat of silence. "i know. that doesn't make her nothing to me."

he ruffles his shoulders. "you could do with forgetting a few. not everyone is so deserving of you."[break]
she scoffs, shifts so she is no longer his witness; another pang reverberates.[break]

"you're right. they deserve better."

a hiss, so abrupt, so unsettled and upset, it makes her jump.[break]
"no, ammy. you do."