Warnings: vague descriptions of violence and gore.
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"I can't do this!" Princess Ceci tossed and turned on the infirmary bed that was meant for patients and not healthy people like herself. "I really can't do this…"
August was hunched over the counter where he was fiddling with odd liquids and test tubes. In the infirmary, it was as dark as evening even in the middle of the day. Only about a dozen beds were lined up in two rows draped in white sterile sheets. The lack of space didn't really matter because it was rare that people frequented this place aside from treating an odd cough and some knee scrapes. The windows were tall but let in no light. There were research papers thrown around the counter that resembled more like scribbled gibberish than anything of real meaning. The Princess whined for the doctor's attention, she desperately needed his help.
The Royal Doctor looked at her, smiling and sighing at the same time, "There, there, princess. You've been crying for several hours now…"
August was a short man, with a frail lanky body and a gaunt face. He wouldn't have been so unsightly if only he took care of his appearance a little bit better, brushed out his light brown locks, and stood up straight without hunching over. He had a star-shaped birthmark on the right side of his throat and would tell people that it was his lucky charm.
"No August," the Princess looked at the Royal Doctor dead in the eye, "It hasn't been mere hours! I've been crying over this for days! The Festival of Remembrance is coming and I don't want to do any remembering," she confessed. And not to mention, she couldn't stand the taught of executing a person that she liked. There was no such cruelty in her heart.
And whenever her spirit was in disarray she would come to the infirmary to talk to August. He made her feel at ease in a way that the others in the castle couldn't. Perhaps his advice wasn't always the most sound, but it was always the easiest to follow.
"Princess," he said as he strode over and placed a tea set next to the bedside counter, "you know it's important."
"Of course I know," she kicked at him lightly but eventually sat up on the bed. The tea smelt of foreign spices that August never seemed to ever run out of. "But that doesn't make it any easier."
August nodded in understanding and poured her a cup, "But the inevitable is always inevitable. That's just how fate works. And you're the one responsible for keeping the rules of magic constant."
Ceci's expression stilled. The ceramic burned her fingers but she ignored the pain, her mind ringing with August's words, "In order to kill your enemies, you must first kill yourself."
That was right.
August's advice might not be the most sound, but it was always the easiest to follow.
Princess Ceci grabbed a lazy disguise and took to the streets. She wore a black cloak folded over her face and honestly it was silly. Because she could simply will the people's attention away with magic. But the cloak gave her the illusion that there was more than just magic that churned the gears of her precious world.
Arcadia's citizens…
...wore smiles more than frowns.
But she ducked away from their faces, too scared to catch her own reflection in their eyes.
She strolled to the main square in Upper Zion, where a large expanse of the street was cleared out in front of a tall looming cathedral. There used to be…something here. But people merely strolled back and forth without a single care.
In the middle of the square, there were no fountains or commemorative statues, no plants to liven up the atmosphere. And Ceci thought it looked strangely barren.
What had been here before? She sat down on the sidewalk and thought and thought.
There had been a wooden platform there once. Something like a stage.
She tried to imagine April holding a performance here. A play for the public with her pretty painted face and glowing smile. Or maybe a concert instead. Wouldn't that be nice?
Princess Ceci imagined all the people who would gather in the square. She could hear their rumbling cheers and the smell of musk and rotten fruits, cheap perfumes. Everyone would be gathered here. The poor would even travel from the Patch just for that special day.
But was there really a concert? Or a play?
They put him down on his knees. His white clothes were yellowed with filth. Black hair matted.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
Their eyes met, he picked her out from the crowd.
And he smiled at her, only at her. The people cheered but she only cared about the words mouthed on his lips. "Stay strong, Your Majesty"
They used a sword.
It was a messy affair. They clapped and cheered, wooden bowls raised. Red droplets. She didn't dare to watch. She didn't dare to look away.
Two moles above his lip.
Princess Ceci blinked and scratched her head. What was she thinking about again? And why was she seated there in the middle of the street?
"Your Highness? Is that you?" Princess Ceci blinked and saw April looking down at her. The orange glow of dusk shimmered upon her smooth brown locks and her eyes were shining almost as bright as the Princess's.
Ceci always summoned the strangest people when she was out of it. "Hello, April."
April smiled with only kindness and offered an outstretched hand, "What are you doing here Your Highness? Won't people worry about you?"
The Princess shook her head and got up on her own, "No, I'm fine. Thank you, April."
April seemed unbothered, "I'm headed to the fruit market right now. Do you wish to join me on a stroll?"
"Oh, okay." Princess Ceci nodded and fell into step with April. If January was the favorite among ladies and nobles that inhabited the castle, then April was the sweetheart of the people. She was an actress and a singer and everyone knew her face.
Late in the day, the fruit market was mostly barren, and yet the stock was full. The fruits left over were only the biggest, juiciest, and most ripe. "Did you know?" April hummed, her fingers brushed across the pile of plump peaches, "that you must eat plenty of peaches if you want a girl."
"Is that so?" Princess Ceci ignored the twisting in her stomach. "I didn't know that. Are you sure it's not just some old wives' tale?"
April shrugged and bagged a few. They were so large and magnificent in size, her dainty little hands had trouble grabbing ahold of them. "Who knows. But it's a fun little story isn't it?" She giggled.
Princess Ceci felt awkward and was left without much to say. "Do you want a daughter then?"
"Either, or. I'm not picky. But maybe I'd like a son since we already have little Soixante to take care of." April smiled and strolled past the stalls with a leisurely pace. The merchants were packing up now but they still greeted them kindly and offered to share wares, discounts, and even free samples. Ceci ignored them all while April nodded kindly before moving on. "The truth is, it's always been my dream to have a family."
Was that how it was? Princess Ceci couldn't relate. She never thought about having a family of her own. Instead, she often remembered dreaming of her own family being whole. "How about December?" She blurted out instead.
April's slow pace became even slow, her lips pursed in thought, "Well December he… you know. He was raised…raised…" April stuttered and frowned, like the things she was trying to say refused to come out. In the end, she settled with, "He was raised differently."
He was raised like Cecilia, the Princess supplied to herself privately. In the confines of castle walls, bricked in by etiquette and responsibilities.
They moved on. In the very end, all April bought with a big bag of peaches. The two young women stood at a crossroad. "Are you sure you don't need anything else?"
"Nope. This is all I need."
April only ever needed the barest minimal of things. Was that how she enchanted December's heart? Princess Ceci wished to know but didn't dare ask, lest she ruined her own magic. They parted ways. April went back to her mansion and the Princess retreated to the castle.
Ceci ignored the lords and the ladies that greeted her. That day, January wasn't there either. Princess Ceci beelined to her room and found her mirror straight away. She looked at her own reflection and recalled August's words.
She would have to start by killing herself first.