Oh god, this is so awkward.
Irene thought she was losing her mind. It was so quiet. Why didn't the princess ever talk? This is why no one liked her.
Irene was technically assigned to Princess Lecil. Though, that never entailed anything more than wheeling in a cart of food and leaving. It had been unbearable for her. It wasn't that Irene necessarily wanted to speak with the Princess. What would they talk about? She would probably assign Irene more work, which wasn't terrible. Irene wasn't a slacker in any way. It was just so... awkward.
Lecil sat on a chair, facing a framed mirror atop a dresser. The top was littered with makeup implements and cosmetics. A small journal was tucked in the corner, sitting on top was a stand-up clock that ticked every second away. It was causing Irene to time each brushstroke.
Glancing up for a second at the reflection, she could see herself half-hidden behind Lecil, combing the princess's inky hair. It had been a horrible mess of bedhead, and Irene had no idea how such a monstrosity came into being. She must have been practicing headspins on top of her covers.
Is she still staring at me?
Chancing another glance up, she stopped midway and jerked. Princess Lecil has been glaring at her ever since she asked Irene to comb her hair. Was she combing too hard? Just in case, Irene made each pass as gentle as could be. That wasn't it because Irene still felt a piercing glare. Huh? Her grip on the brush was slippery...
Is she still angry about breakfast a weak ago?
Irene didn't know why she did it. The spoiled food was just sitting out, asking to be taken. She didn't really think about why it was there or why she decided to serve it. Or the consequences of serving it to a Princess.
Regardless, she hadn't been punished in any way. Prince Tristan didn't fire or scold her; he just had her bring appropriate food. None of the cooks cared. They were probably the ones who set it up. The King didn't know and Irene wasn't about to bring it to his attention. That only left the First Princess...
"Irene."
"Eep!"
Irene jumped, letting out a squeak. Irene slowly craned her neck to peak up at Lecil's reflection. She looked royally pissed. Mustering up the courage, she spoke hesitantly.
"Yes, princess?"
"Do you remember breakfast about a week ago?"
Oh no. This was it...
"Aha... ah. Yes, Princess. I remember."
"I want you to tell me why you did what you did."
Irene panicked; she fell on her knees. To the side of Lecil, she looked up and pleaded.
"Princess. I am so sorry! Please, have mercy. I have no idea why I did such a thing. It was a spur of the moment action; there was no other food out; the chefs were gone; I just took the food without thinking; I served it not thinking you would actually eat it. Not off the floor. Never. Your highness, please..."
Irene prevented herself from clutching at Lecil's nightgown. The Princess looked down at an incoherent Irene and made a more directed question.
"Why did you never speak to me when bringing me food afterward."
"I-I thought, I thought that you, you wouldn't want to see my face. You never even turned around when I brought you food, so, so, I..."
Irene thought about it. Should she have apologized outright? Did she have to wait to be addressed?
"I tried to swap duties with another maid, but none of them wanted to. So, I kept quiet until you spoke of it."
"Hmm..."
Awaiting judgment, Irene saw Lecil pondering. Suddenly, Lecil stood and moved over to a corner of the room with a sofa chair. Irene was frozen in place, watching. Then started scrambling when Lecil started dragging the chair across the floor.
"Princess? Princess, what are you doing? You will hurt yourself."
Lecil rolled her eyes.
"Bring over that chair and set it down in the center of the room."
"..."
Irene looked back to the chair where Lecil was previously sitting, back to the princess still dragging a huge chair, back to the wooden one that sported a large groove along one leg. Lecil articulated from across the room.
"That is an order."
Faced with no other option, she complied.
A few moments later and after several princess-grunts, two chairs faced each other. Lecil sat herself down in the wobbly wooden chair. It was ornate and deserving of being in the palace, but unexpected damage caused it to become sub-par. The Princess gestured to the plump sofa chair.
"Sit."
"Princess, I could never-"
"You've already prostrated yourself before me. You can find the strength or weakness to sit across from me."
"Aah... Yes, princess."
Irene dropped, adjusted her uniform before sitting. The chair was plush and extremely relaxing. Irene had to sit on the edge to avoid getting too comfortable. There were only a few feet between them, making things more awkward.
Lecil glanced at the doors, conscious of the possibility of someone barging in again. Taking a moment, she got up and locked the doors before sitting back down. With a sigh, she spoke.
"Irene. Tell me everything leading up to breakfast that morning from your point of view."
She did. Laying out everything in as much detail as possible. Hoping and pleading for mercy. She really didn't know what she was doing or why. It made no sense unless Irene had a suicide wish. If she pulled that stunt on another of the royal family or just another staff member, she would find her head rolling off a chopping block.
Lecil listened diligently, nodding in places and making interested humming sounds in her throat. By then end of it had a hand massaged her temple.
"I see. It seems that I was right after all."
Irene tilted her head.
"Princess?"
"Hm? Oh. Do you remember Tristan's actions?"
Irene nodded rapidly.
"I didn't think he would be so cruel as to spill your meal, even if it was, erm... what it was. I couldn't believe my eyes when you sat down and ate that week-old bread..."
Lecil shook her head.
"No. I mean do you understand why he did it."
"No, princess. I've never seen the Prince act that way. He is usually such a caring person."
Lecil half-snorted.
"Tristan? No... Honestly? Oh, it must be worse than I thought... You don't remember him ever acting out like earlier?"
Irene was genuinely confused. She didn't interact or come into contact with Tristan as much of the other staff did, but he was chivalrous every time she did. The other maids and staff all loved him and bragged about how he would treat them with gifts and days off.
"You don't remember Tristan reaching for his sword?"
"What? His sword? But, he wasn't wearing his sword..."
What was she saying? That the Prince wanted to kill his sister? Even if they were half-siblings, that was way over the line. How would he get away with it? He would ruin his chances at becoming King after his father and would most likely be exiled. Tristan would never risk such a thing. His cruel actions towards Princess Lecil at breakfast were just an odd deviation.
"Irene."
Her eyes refocused on the Princess who was suddenly standing. Irene craned her neck up to look at Lecil.
"Irene. You haven't looked at me straight since you entered."
What was she talking about? Irene was looking at her now. She was the picture of a princess. Her hair was just recently messy, but otherwise, she was beautiful! Everything Irene imagined a princess would...
Dark circles ringed Lecil's eyes. Lecil appeared exhausted, like she hadn't slept in ages. How did Irene miss that?
"Princess, your eyes. Have you not been sleeping? Why did you not say anything? I could have requested sleeping pills to aid you."
Lecil actually backed up a step, clutching her stomach. Laughing. Irene only looked worried and confused, she wanted to stand up from the expensive chair and intervene, but there wasn't enough leg room.
"Hahaha! That!"
The laughter was raw. Like the princess was speaking through a dry throat. Was she ill? Irene worried.
"That? That is the first thing you noticed. Hehe-he, well, I suppose it is true. I slept like a baby last night, but I haven't slept for an entire week."
"Princess, you should-"
"Stop."
Irene jerked. Lecil became so serious. Deadly. Sharp as a knife.
"Stop and look at me! What do you see? You see the circles around my eyes yet not the most important thing? Do you simply not want to see it, or does the magic run that deep?"
Irene blinked. Other than the dark circles. There wasn't...
"If you still can't see, maybe a different angle will help you."
Lecil backed up and propped herself up on the wooden chair, standing at full height. Irene had enough. Lecil would fall like this. She finally stood up to support the princess, but Lecil spoked again, halting her.
"Wait. Hold. Just a moment. Let me pose this right."
Irene looked up at Lecil, who stood on her tiptoes in her nightgown. The color in Irene's face left her.
A carved wooden ceiling backdropped a shining chandelier. Irene was cast in Lecil's small shadow as the princess tilted her head back, an illusionary noose tied around her neck. Black and blue. Fading greens and yellow. A horrid bruise wrapped Lecil like a morbid scarf.
Irene shook as her eyes widened. Truly opening.
Lecil rolled up her sleeves and let her arms dangle and her sides. Layers of color and fading injuries covered her arms. Two old horizontal slashes scarred her wrists, a tale of sorrow past.
Irene was vibrating with emotion. Explosions popped off inside her head. She finally noticed other signs. Through the transparency of her nightgown, Irene took in the discoloration centered in Lecil's chest. More on her stomach and lower ribs. Continuing, tracking down one of her thighs. Her feet and calves were left pristine. Her upper chest was unmarred. They were all placed to be hidden. Her arms free game after having marred them herself.
Irene fell back into the warm and royal chair.
How old are those scars? Did I truly never wonder why the princess always wore long sleeves? Wonder why she was no longer attended to? Was it because Princess Lecil wanted to hide this? No... if she wanted to hide it, she wouldn't be showing it to me now. Has everyone just avoided her and thought her crazy? Wait... Didn't I think the same thing previously?
Her perceived world was breaking like glass. Irene felt a cascade as firewalls shattered and several of the chains binding her broke.
"I don't blame you..."
"Huh?"
Irene's voice was meek and barely audible. Lecil stepped down, sitting. She ran a thumb over the scar on her right wrist.
"I know you didn't want to forget. Just like I didn't want to kill myself..."
The words didn't make sense to her, but they felt oddly comforting all the same. It wasn't her fault? Even when she ignored all the signs? Even though she was a personal attendant that never actually attended her. The bruises. An attempted suicide. Two of them?
"I hope you forgive me for waking you up... I just didn't want to be alone in knowing."
"Waking up? Knowing what?"
Lecil took in how she was hyperventilating and holding herself, quaking uncontrollably. Lecil placed a comforting hand on Irene's upper arm. The shivering halted. Locking eyes, the dark purple flecks that burned served to dry up Irene's tears before they fell. Irene was rapt with attention. Lost in turmoil.
Princess Lecil smiled wryly, tapping a finger to her temple.
"About the magic chains."