The Doll felt an overwhelming sickness as she held Lukaz's hand in such a way. Yet The Doll felt an equally overwhelming wave of guilt wash over her when he looked down at their connected hands with such hopeful eyes.
After only a moment of hesitation, Lukaz looked back in The Doll’s eyes and said, “Very well, if you want to stay here that badly, I will let it slide for now.” Lukaz then intensified his gaze. “I will continue to work towards finding a way to duel Darius in your place again. You have my word.” The Doll could only nod along as Lukaz said this; despite this being one of her few victories, it somehow felt hollow.
Without a word The Doll allowed Lukaz to help her up to her feet, leaning against him with shaky legs. Despite the wound in her chest The Doll felt no pain as she stood up, a mercy likely afforded to her by The Strings. But it was strange that The Doll couldn't get up on her own, and her legs shook despite this lack of pain as if there was a cause beyond the wound in her chest.
The Doll figured it was likely a symptom of exhaustion given everything that had just happened.
Propping The Doll up, Lukaz said, “It's okay, I'm going to take you to the healer, and she can check you out, and then I can take you back to your room.” The Doll tensed up as Lukaz said this. The Doll couldn't return to her room. Malina would want an explanation, and The Doll couldn't very well tell Lukaz that she had effectively moved into the princess's bedroom.
Thinking quickly The Doll said, “I don't believe you’re allowed to enter Lunarie House, Lukaz.” The Doll knew that male students weren't allowed to enter Lunarie House. She could only hope that Lukaz cared enough to follow that rule given the circumstances.
Lukaz focused a worried gaze on The Doll. “Yes, but it's late. I’m sure nobody would notice, and it's not as though you can go on your own.” Lukaz stated with a resolute tone in his voice.
A dark toned hand fell on The Dolls shoulder as Cecilia interrupted, “I can take Lady Ashencroft back to Lunarie House, but going to the healer is out of the question for her given the severity of her wound; the healer would be obligated to inform the headmaster.” As Cecilia said this, she began to maneuver The Doll's other arm over her shoulder, indicating for Lukaz to let go.
Not ready to give up, Lukaz protested, “My fiancée must go to the healer; she was stabbed through the heart and can barely stand. We will convince her to not tell the headmaster with or without—” Lukaz was cut off before he could finish his protest.
Cecilia spoke over Lukaz’s words, “Lady Ashencroft is a major noble; I'm sure she will be fine.” Cecilia narrowed her eyes on The Doll before adding on, “Right.” Making it clear The Doll was supposed to support her claim.
Eager to escape this situation The Doll looked to Lukaz with the best reassuring gaze she could muster before saying in a soft voice, “She's right, Lukaz, I'll be fine; you should go back to your dorm.” The Doll felt sick as she said this, but she managed to force out, “I tr—trust Cecilia to take care of me.” Looking uneasily towards Cecilia as she said this last part The Doll saw no distinguishable change in her expression to show either satisfaction or dissatisfaction.
Hearing The Doll’s words caused Lukaz to reluctantly allow Cecilia to take The Doll. “Just take care of her, and if those stitches break, take her to the nurse regardless of her complaints.” Lukaz’s wording caused The Doll to flinch slightly for reasons she didn't quite know.
In response to Lukaz’s words, Cecilia nodded and warmly said, “Of course I wouldn't want any more harm to come to my friend.” Cecilia propped The Doll up even further after saying this as if intending to show care for her.
A smile crossed Lukaz’s face as he performed yet another awkward bow. “I appreciate it truly. I am glad to see my fiancée has found at least one good friend.” Lukaz said before allowing his gaze to linger on The Doll for a moment longer and walking towards the Dreadwood main building to have his minor wounds attended to.
Watching Lukaz walk away The Doll felt the weight of guilt from lying to him and disgust from her own actions subside slightly. Not allowing her mind to wander back to this guilt The Doll focused on Cecilia, wary of her next move.
The Doll still was clueless as to why Cecilia was here or how she knew The Doll was being attacked. Adding onto her worries The Doll was unsure how Cecilia would react to The Doll having survived being pierced through the heart, given her ridiculous idea that The Doll wasn't a human.
A dangerous idea crept into The Doll’s mind as she thought about Cecilia's claim. However, The Doll quickly halted this idea before it could grow further. The Doll was human despite everything; she was human. Anything about The Doll that seemed inhuman was a result of The Strings inside her.
Images of The Strings bearing The Doll’s wounds for her flashed within her mind.
Pushing these images down, The Doll focused on Cecilia, who was now looking towards the body on the ground. Raising her free hand up, Cecilia said, “I am Cecilia Umbra, pillar of the crown, and my magic is that of shadows.” As Cecilia said this The Doll watched on, unable to see the magic that was likely forming around her. Finishing her introduction, Cecilia said, “Now shadows cloak this body so I can deal with it later.” With those ominous words, the darkness around the shadow made by the body seemed to wrap around it, hiding the sight from view completely.
Having finished this spell, Cecilia closed her eyes and took a deep breath before addressing The Doll. “Now that Zephyr is gone and that has been dealt with for now, how about you tell me why the headmaster would send an Equalizer to kill you?” Cecilia asked, her tone having now shifted back to the coldness that The Doll was used to when the two interacted. The cold efficiency of Cecilia going from dealing with the body to casually addressing The Doll was slightly unnerving.
Cecilia looked at The Doll expectantly, waiting for an answer as if The Doll should know the answer to her question. However The Doll could only stare at Cecilia in confusion, unsure what to say.
The Doll needed to think of an answer even if she didn't know what Cecilia was talking about, but she found herself unable to organize her thoughts. Inside her head The Doll felt constant questions moving throughout her head.
What was an Equalizer?
What did Cecilia mean by the headmaster sending them?
Had the headmaster tried to kill The Doll?
Why couldn't The Doll think?
Seeing The Doll’s lack of reply, Cecilia rolled her eyes and said, “I already saw the stitches across the assassin’s mouth and eyes along with the letter on the headmaster's desk. Now stop trying to hide the reason and tell me.” As Cecilia spoke The Doll noticed a tone of genuine annoyance in Cecilia's voice, as if she genuinely believed The Doll was hiding something from her.
Looking down The Doll attempted to calm her thoughts. This was an opportunity where Cecilia thought The Doll knew more than she did, a fact that The Doll could use to leverage information. But first she had to give Cecilia something, anything.
The Doll’s gaze settled on the strings on her chest and remembered the headmaster's words. Looking up, The Doll said one word, “Metamorphosis.” Cecilia looked at The Doll clearly waiting for further elaboration. “The headmaster has been talking about having me undergo a metamorphosis for a while. I think he sent the Equalizer to force me to do something.” The Doll tried her best to speak her words with confidence despite her confusion.
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The moment this explanation left The Doll's lips—Cecilia let go of her, causing The Doll to fall to the ground. While The Doll attempted to process what had just happened, a small blade appeared in Cecilia's hand, pointed downward at her, causing The Doll to flinch slightly.
Looking down at The Doll with her cold expression, Cecilia said, “Lady Ashencroft, I have deemed you too great a threat to the crown to remain alive.” Despite the coldness of Cecilia's words, it sounded like she was almost scared in this moment. Just like she had been back when the two first met.
Staring at the blade pointed down towards her The Doll knew that she needed to say something to make Cecilia back down. This sudden outburst had to be caused by The Doll mentioning the metamorphosis. The Doll knew there had to be a right answer here, something that would cause Cecilia to put her blade down.
But once again The Doll found herself unable to think about what this right answer could be. It was as if The Doll was frozen at the sight of a blade. The strings beneath her sleeve began to itch, and a cold heat began to form in her chest as she remained frozen at the blade.
Why couldn't The Doll think of a reasonable response? The Doll knew that if she didn't, she would die. This was no different from back when The Doll first met Cecilia. These situations were near identical, yet The Doll found herself unable to formulate a response now.
Why?
First The Doll couldn't even bring herself to stand despite the fact that The Strings was the one in pain, not her. Then The Doll couldn't steady her words when talking to Lukaz. Now even in this moment where The Doll found her life threatened, she couldn't bring herself to do what needed to be done—to do what should be easy to her.
Had The Doll truly become so incompetent that she couldn't even think properly? In order to make up for her inability to use magic The Doll could always rely on the one thing Father taught her. The Doll could always:
Repress.
Ignore.
Move.
But now The Doll was frozen in a moment where she needed to keep her composure the most.
Hesitantly, The Doll brought her hand, which had begun shaking for reasons she couldn't comprehend. Seeing The Doll do this, Cecilia began to pull the small blade back, clearly intending to strike The Doll.
However, moments before the blade reached The Doll words escaped her lips: “I—I don’t want to die.” Accompanying these words was the faint feeling of tears that began to run down The Dolls cheeks.
Cecilia's blade stopped inches from The Doll’s face. “You're scared?” Cecilia asked, not even attempting to hide the confusion in her voice. “You had the nerve to threaten me while I held you at knife point a week ago, but now you're scared?” Cecilia added on, her blade faltering slightly as she held it up.
The Doll remained silent in response to Cecilia's question, too shocked by her own actions to reply. Tears freely fell down The Dolls face as she realized that Cecilia was right. The Doll was scared. But it wasn't as if The Doll had never been scared; fear was just always an emotion that was suppressed.
An emotion like any other for The Doll.
So why now? Why was The Doll unable to suppress this fear now? The Doll was allowing herself to look weak in front of somebody who wanted her death. Showing this emotion now made no logical sense; it should be suppressed.
Attempting to do just this The Doll said, “N—No, I just I…” The Doll choked on her own words, unable to utter her own excuse. The Doll couldn't even attempt to deny it; she was beyond being simply scared.
This was the third time The Doll had nearly died in such a short period of time. It felt as though she was that same child from back then, but now The Doll didn't even have her competence from being a major noble to fall back on. The Doll couldn't help but feel that same fear she had felt in the throne room on that fateful day her life changed.
However, it wasn't just that The Doll knew that these feelings were beyond simply remembrance of the past. The Doll didn't want to lose this life that she had just obtained at Dreadwood. For the first time since that incident The Doll felt as if she had a meager amount of control over her life, and she didn't want to lose that. The Doll had friends at Dreadwood, people who she could trust. The Doll could wake up every day without fearing what Father would do next.
The Doll was terrified that she would lose all of that which she had just obtained.
Why did The Doll feel as though she was entitled to the feeling of being scared to lose all of this? The Doll was a failure; she didn't—no, she shouldn't have her own feelings on any matter. She should do as she is told by those who understand her position. If anything The Doll should be ashamed of herself for almost dying; she had almost allowed the Ashencroft lineage to die with her. The Doll shouldn't be scared to lose anything because she was entitled to have nothing in the first place.
Yet The Doll couldn't deny the fact that she was scared.
It was unbecoming of The Doll.
Breaking The Doll from her thoughts, Cecilia hid her dagger back into her sleeve and extended her hand out for The Doll to take. “If I'm going to let you live, I’ll need you to help me with something.” Cecilia said as she stood there with her hand extended out, waiting for The Doll to take it.
The Doll stared at Cecilia’s extended hand for a moment before wiping her eyes and taking it, seeing no better option. “What is it you need my help with?” The Doll asked unsure how she could help Cecilia without magic. Though The Doll supposed that Cecilia was still under the impression that The Doll could use magic.
Cecilia pulled The Doll up and said in an uncharacteristically warm tone that almost came off as genuine, “Don’t worry about it for now; I'm going to take you back to your room. You look like you need rest.” Cecilia gave a small smile that felt strangely genuine. The Doll presumed this was likely some attempt at manipulation but made no move to question Cecilia now.
Instead The Doll said, “I need to go to Malina's room; the two of us were…” The Doll paused, having realized now that she didn't really have a proper explanation for what the two were doing. Thinking quickly The Doll finished her sentence, “We, um, studied together, and I fell asleep in her room, so she'd be worried if I was gone. You understand, right?” The Doll stopped talking quickly, realizing that her words were coming out far too fast.
Cecilia raised her eyebrows slightly, debating The Doll's words, but ultimately she relented by saying, “I suppose that makes sense.” Cecilia's voice didn't sound very convincing, but she quickly switched tone and said, “But you will tell her nothing of this meeting, the attack, or my status as a pillar.” The effortless shift in tone acted as a cold reminder to The Doll that despite the change in heart, Cecilia had about killing The Doll she and The Doll were still far from friends.
The Doll sighed and looked forward, her silence acting as agreement to Cecilia's threat. Seemingly pleased by The Dolls' agreement, Cecilia began walking the two towards Lunarie House, a comfortable silence falling between the two. While the two walked The Doll mulled over why Cecilia had such a sudden change of heart but found no reasonable explanation.
Perhaps it was simply that Cecilia realized The Doll could be of some use in what it was she needed help with. On that topic The Doll didn't even know what she had just agreed to help Cecilia with.
While these thoughts swirled through The Doll’s head, she and Cecilia arrived in front of The Doll’s room, where The Doll was instructed to change into a clean pair of pajamas and give the dirty ones to Cecilia. Fortunately, The Doll had left some of her old clothes in the room, and she always wore identical pajamas, so this process was easy. By this point the shaking in The Doll’s legs had subsided for the most part, allowing The Doll to walk on her own to Malina's room with assistance from the wall after giving her bloodied clothes to Cecilia.
After a walk that took far longer than it should have The Doll stood before the door to Malina's room and took a deep breath before hesitantly pushing it open. When she opened the door The Doll noticed how it looked as though nothing had changed since her absence.
Malina still lay on the bed, snoring lightly with the blanket stolen.
The lights still remained off with only the dim moonlight in the room.
Stuffed animals still lay on every surface of the light-colored room.
The Doll closed the door behind her as she examined the room. Truthfully The Doll shouldn't be surprised by this, given she had only truly been gone for about an hour, yet the calmness of it all stood in stark contrast to what had just happened. It was a nice feeling to be able to find calm in the typically chaotic presence of Malina.
With her exhaustion finally catching up to her The Doll slowly walked towards Malina's bed and collapsed onto the side that had become hers. The Doll yawned and found herself staring at Malina's sleeping form before closing her eyes, feeling relieved in her presence.
As The Dolls mind drifted to sleep, one thought occupied her mind.
Was it truly so wrong for The Doll to be afraid of losing this?