The Doll found herself back in Malina's room after the duel ended. The events immediately after Darius was announced the victor were a blur to The Doll. She'd been lost in thought merely following wherever Malina guided her. The Doll could vaguely remember muttering a goodbye to Lila and wordlessly agreeing with whatever Malina said on the walk to her room.
The Doll didn't even know why she was in Malina's room now. Ever since the duel ended, she's been running circles around her own head, thinking of ways she could get out of this duel, trying to find the right answer.
Every solution The Doll thought of, every plan she conceived—all of it ultimately led to a less than ideal outcome. An outcome where the Ashencroft name would be sullied, an outcome where she would have to face Father, an outcome where The Doll was left disgraced—every single option seemed wrong.
The Doll knew there had to be a right answer; there was always a right answer, but the more she thought, the more she felt as if there wasn't one.
A desperate thought crossed The Doll's mind for a moment. The Doll thought that she may be able to reach The Strings somehow and ask—no, beg it for the help it had offered her earlier. Back in that dark void, it had offered The Doll power if she accepted its control, a power that could help her.
A power that could be the right answer.
No, that was a foolish thought; she couldn't trust The Strings. She could never trust The Strings. That feeling of lost control when it had overtaken her body—the mere thought of allowing that to happen again felt so violating.
But what would The Doll do if she was faced with a situation where she had no choice?
What if the time of the duel came and there was no other option but to accept The Strings' help? The Doll had already nearly done so, seeing Lukaz have to face the consequences of her actions. What would she do when the entire Ashencroft lineage hung in the balance?
The Doll felt her hands clench into fists at her sides, her fingers pressing into the fabric of the gloves that covered them. This whole situation was hopeless, and The Doll could only curse her own incompetence for allowing it to happen.
Softness.
The Doll suddenly felt a softness enveloping her whole body. The Doll opened the eyes that she had not realized she had closed and only saw the familiar ceiling that was standard for the dorms at Dreadwood. The Doll unclenched her fists and moved them around, feeling them brush against soft, fluffy objects.
It was a comforting sensation that calmed The Doll down the more she embraced it. Suddenly a weight pressed into The Doll's stomach, pushing her further into this softness. Replacing The Dolls view of the ceiling was the face of Malina looking down over her.
A weird heat washed over The Dolls body that she dismissed as warmth from the bed she was undoubtedly pinned to. Mustering words from the pit of her stomach The Doll asked Malina, “Would you mind getting off me? I'm quite uncomfortable.” Speaking was harder than necessary due to Malina's weight on her.
In place of a proper response, Malina rolled her eyes and rolled over to the right side of The Doll deftly keeping her legs wrapped around The Dolls body. Malina then nuzzled her face into The Doll's neck, allowing her hot breath to bounce against The Dolls skin.
The Doll felt her body involuntarily stiffen at the action. Opening her mouth to protest, Malina silenced her by speaking first, “I don't want to let go of you.” The statement was simple yet filled The Doll with confusion much like many of Malina's words.
Verbalizing her thoughts The Doll asked, “Why?” The question was only word, but one she found herself asking increasingly often.
Why had Lukaz suffered so much for her?
Why did Malina care for her so much?
Why couldn't she find the logic in anything?
It felt as if every day that passed by in Dreadwood The Doll only grew increasingly confused. It wasn't the same simplicity she was used to back in Gelun, but there was still something comforting about the school. Or perhaps The Doll just found it more comforting than the cold halls of Father's castle.
Malina let out a deep breath that The Doll felt closely against her skin; it sent a shiver throughout her body. After finishing her long breath, Malina spoke again in a quiet, low tone, "I've already told you, Dollie.” She nuzzled her forehead even closer into The Doll's neck before speaking again, “Because you're mine.” A statement The Doll had heard from Malina time and time again, but one she still didn't understand.
The Doll felt her hands clench into fists once again, frustration coursing through her body. “But why me? I'm useless to you.” Malina was a royal, the only status above The Dolls' own. The Doll's status meant nothing to Malina, and that was all The Doll had to offer anybody. So why did Malina insist on sticking around? Why did she claim The Doll to be hers?
Malina answered almost immediately, "You're being useful to me right now.” Malina brought her hand up and ran it through The Doll's hair. "You'll be useful to me tomorrow.” The Doll flinched as Malina gripped one of The Doll strands of hair as if settling on it. "You'll still be useful to me after the stupid duel.” The Doll felt her chest tighten at the mention of the duel she had nearly forgotten about in conversation with Malina.
It seemed Malina noticed The Doll's discomfort at the mention of the duel. Malina tightened her legs on The Doll and said, "Don't worry, you won't lose to that creep; he used strange magic, but you're a major noble.” The words that The Doll was sure were meant to be reassuring only caused her further discomfort. Malina was right; a major noble should be able to beat Darius. Even after his showing at the duel, the difference in status was simply far too great.
But The Doll was only a major noble in name; in reality, she was no better than a commoner. It wouldn't even be inaccurate to say she was below a commoner. The Doll couldn't use magic; she was a shell that held a name of significance: "I'm not.” The Doll spoke before thinking, voicing the thoughts she had.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The Doll told herself she would never do that again just earlier today. Yet she found herself doing it once again, voicing her unfiltered thoughts once again.
Malina's grip loosened ever so slightly on The Doll, “What do you mean?” She asked, confusion evident in her voice.
The Doll understood Malina's confusion to her—to anyone that didn't know about her condition, the simple statement must sound ridiculous. "I'm worthless.” The Doll said, her voice now equally quiet. She knew she shouldn't continue to speak her thoughts, doing it once a mistake, but something about talking to Malina lessened her guard.
Upon hearing this, Malina immediately flipped back on top of The Doll her face once again covering The Doll's vision. Malina leaned in closer to The Doll and spoke, "Don't say that about yourself. You're mine. You're not worthless." The Doll tensed up even further hearing this; Malina didn't understand; she couldn't understand not unless The Doll told her the shameful secret that she held.
The Doll looked away from Malina and said, "No, you don't understand.” The words felt hollow in The Doll, a statement that she needed to force out.
Malina grabbed The Doll's chin and forcefully turned The Doll's gaze back to her eyes. "Yes, I do, Dollie. I know you. You wouldn't be mine if I didn't know you.” She giggled after saying this as if it was some joke, something that shouldn't be taken seriously.
But the words hurt The Doll.
How could Malina keep claiming that? She said over and over that she knew The Doll that she understood. Malina didn't understand The Doll; she didn't know the first thing about The Doll—what she suffered, what she saw. “You don't know me.” The Doll ripped her chin away from Malina's grip. “You don't understand the first thing about me!” The Doll felt her voice rise slightly as she spoke.
Malina grabbed The Doll's chin again, pulling it back to her more forcefully than before. "Don't do that, Dollie; don't raise your voice at me. Don't claim I don't know you.” The Doll tried to pull away, but Malina only tightened her grip, her fingers painfully boring into The Doll's skin.
The Doll gave up on pulling away instead of choosing to lean up and shout, "NO, YOU DON'T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT ME!” The Doll couldn't remember the last time she had shouted, but once again with Malina, the action came out so naturally.
Malina brought The Doll's face even closer to her own, tightening the grip on her chin. The Doll felt her fingernails dig into The Doll’s skin; pain continued to spread through The Doll's chin as she felt blood leave her body from where Malina was digging her nails into. “STOP LYING TO ME," Malina shouted, her spit hitting The Doll’s face from how close they now were to each other.
Gritting her teeth The Doll responded faster than she could think, “I CAN'T EVEN USE MAGIC.” Upon hearing these words, Malina's grip loosened slightly, allowing The Doll to pull away if she wished.
The Doll didn't pull away; instead, she remained there in silence, her face only inches from Malina's own. The room was dead quiet, filled only with the heavy breathing of the two who both looked into each other's eyes. Malina’s light eyes were the only thing The Doll could truly see.
A mistake.
Closing her eyes tightly The Doll anticipated the worst response. She knew this was a mistake; she shouldn't have told Malina she couldn’t use magic yet in the moment she couldn't stop herself. She was a fool, a fool who had just told a noble she was incapable of using magic. There wasn't even a logical reason to reveal that other than winning some pointless argument. A pointless argument she didn't even need to be involved in if she just kept silent in the first place.
Keeping her mouth shut was what she should always do.
As the silence continued to stretch throughout the room The Doll opened her eyes to face the horrified reaction that was undoubtedly plastered on Malina's face. Yet when she opened her eyes, the horrified expression she expected wasn't present but rather a different expression.
Malina's eyes were wide, focused only on The Doll's face, fixated in a way that felt different from usual. Her mouth wasn't quite open, but her lips lay slightly parted. Her breathing felt slow and hot.
The Doll felt every breath due to the closeness of the two.
It was only now, as her hot breath bounced against The Doll's face, that The Doll truly realized how close they were. The distance between the two was so meager. The Doll wasn't sure if a finger could fit between the two's faces.
Shifting underneath Malina's weight, The Doll wasn't sure how to react.
She shouldn't react at all; she didn't know why she felt the need to react. In fact, she should pull away; the distance was hardly appropriate. Yet The Doll didn't pull away; rather, she remained completely still, unable to break Malina’s gaze.
Slowly Malina moved in closer, covering the meager distance between the two even further.
This was bad.
The Doll felt that unfamiliar feeling crawl up once again, far stronger than any previous time. It made her feel hot but not quite uncomfortable, something that The Doll didn't understand. She felt as if she wanted to vomit yet also like she didn't want to leave at the same time.
What was wrong with her?
Why did this feeling keep arising within her?
Then The Doll felt Malina's lips plant against her own in a kiss. The Doll was familiar with the action she had seen others do and heard Lukaz propose doing it to her. But she had never considered the action; she found the thought of it quite odd, a practice that didn't make sense. Yet now Malina was doing this practice on The Doll for a reason The Doll couldn't decipher.
Even stranger The Doll found herself enjoying the sensation of Malina's soft lips brushing against her own. Leaning in deeper, Malina didn't stop, as if refusing to allow The Doll to breathe. She pushed further into The Doll's lips, the sounds of the act echoing throughout the room.
It felt raw, almost painful, yet also like the best thing The Doll had ever experienced.
Very hesitantly The Doll stuck her own tongue into Malina's mouth, attempting to mimic her own actions. Then The Doll felt pain as a familiar bitter taste entered her mouth—the taste of blood. Her eyes widened when she realized what Malina had done, biting The Doll's tongue in a frenzy.
Instinctively The Doll pulled much to Malina's dismay, who looked as if she wanted to continue. She convinced herself it was a mistake, something she hadn't done. She wanted a reason to embrace that feeling again, an excuse.
The desire she felt to continue overwhelmed her for a moment before reason took over.
A deep shame suddenly washed over her body. What she had just done was incredibly improper.
The Doll pulled away from Malina even further, abruptly lying on her side and using Malina's blanket to cover herself. Malina didn't say anything, but The Doll felt her gaze lingering on her body.
The Doll knew it wasn't right to sleep in Malina's bed, but she couldn't find the energy to leave the softness of its embrace now. She couldn't find the energy to think about anything.
Everything felt so confusing.
The Duel.
The Strings.
Now dealing with what had just happened with Malina was too much.
All of it. The Doll would deal with it in the morning; she was certain Malina wouldn't mind if the two shared the bed—it was plenty large for both of them. Malina chose not to speak much to The Doll's pleasure; she wasn't sure how she could respond to whatever questions she might ask.
Instead, she felt Malina simply lie down next to her.
Her presence made The Doll strangely comfortable. She didn't understand why, but she was too tired to question it. Far too much had happened today already.
Sleep soon overtook The Doll, embracing her in its comforting darkness.