~Nami~

“I shouldn’t have screamed…” Vero muttered into her tight fist. If she hadn’t screamed, the guards wouldn’t have known. No one would’ve had to know. She could’ve figured out how to find the thief and get her things back on her own, but instead, she tried to stop the thief in their tracks with a dizzying wail, and in turn, brought her own demise onto herself. It was her own fault for being so weak. Her fist tightened and she bit harder at her nail.

Before she knew it, there was crimson mixing in with the soft lilac shade of her nail polish. She had dug her nails into her skin until they bled, and now she watched as a drop of the blood that sullied her hand fell onto the royal purple rug at her feet.

“Shit!” she swore under her breath as she saw her hand drip. She looked at her hand and saw the deep scratches etched into her palm. They only now began to sting. “Shit shit shit…” she muttered as she ran across the room to where her bath had been behind the screen yesterday and grabbed a leftover towel, taking it and running back to where the single droplet had permeated the carpet.

She rubbed vigorously at the stain, but her efforts only made it worse. Her breathing began to quicken and she scrubbed even harder. She stared down at her red hands as they worked desperately and froze when she noticed something.

The nail polish on her thumb was chipped. Badly.

Her breathing stopped and her whole body froze. Lady Vero, on her knees, stared at her chipped nail and felt the world stop. She sat that way for minutes, the punctures on her hand bleeding out into the plush purple towel and staining it with the shape of her hand. Suddenly, a tear fell onto the towel. Then another. Still frozen, Vero calmly began to weep. She let go of the towel and found her hand print left as evidence of her failure. She sat back on her legs, sitting properly straight while staring down into her palms that slowly began to pool with a small puddle of blood and her tears. As the water fell from her eyes, she willed her body to be still. She did not sob. Her shoulders did not rack. She simply stared into her hands and watched her tears accumulate, slowly and surely, along with the blood that spilled over in a diluted mess.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Vero got to her feet and folded her hands over one another, containing the travesty in her palms. “Enter,” she said with a voice as steady as a still lake.

A maid opened the door. “My lady, you have been summoned.”

Vero nodded with a calm, demure face. “Thank you, Vitri.”

Vitri bowed deeply before shutting the door. Alone once more, Vero took a deep breath and opened her wet palm again. After a heavy sigh, she began to whistle a soft lullaby and watched as the wound in her hand began to stitch itself closed. Each note brought her skin together and freed it from any blemish until there was nothing left but the red stain on her hand. Afterwards, she took the sullied towel from the floor and wiped her hands with the help of her tears, cleaning her palms until they were pure once more. Despite the traces of blood being roughly scrubbed away, Vero could still feel it marking her skin. She rubbed her hands over one another in an attempt to be rid of the feeling, but relief never came.

After hiding her moment of weakness behind her dressing screen, Vero took one last look in her long mirror as she made her way towards the door. She was just as short as ever in comparison to her siblings that all managed to tower over her, and her long blonde hair curled a touch at its ends despite her efforts to have it fall perfectly and elegantly straight. She huffed at her reflection, playing with her earlobe and sighing as she fiddled with the plain silver hoops that graced her ears today. In the reflection, Vero caught a glimpse of the blood that stained her carpet still. She sighed, disappointed in her lack of control.

“Get a hold of yourself. You are the heiress. Have some dignity.” Her reflection spoke the words so fiercely, and yet her core was still shaken. Vero scanned herself from head to toe as she straightened herself up as tall as she could and took another deep breath. “You are the heiress. Now behave as such.” She walked to the door and opened it, finding Vitri standing at attention to her left.

Lady Vero began walking down the hall with her hands folded at her front, not paying mind to any of the fine elven carvings and architecture that she simply knew as “home.” She focused her attention entirely at the opening at the end the ornamented hall. Meanwhile, Vitri followed in tow, her head lowered and never looking up at her lady. She only stared at where Lady Vero’s footsteps graced the alabaster floors. Neither of them paid any mind to the other servants that scurried around them to and fro, running to prepare for the celebration they still assumed to be happening tonight.

The two women made it to the stairs at the center of the mansion before descending to the bottom floor. In the foyer of the mansion, Vero began to hear whispers as her and Vitri made their way through. Despite the creeping feeling on her neck, Vero kept her chin up. They continued their trek through halls lined with beautiful, tropical plants and fine wooden furniture until they reached the entry to the main hall. Vitri quickly scampered in front of her lady and knocked on the door on her behalf. Without waiting for an answer, Vitri opened the door and stepped inside with a deep bow.

“Lady Vero, your nobility.”

Lady Vero stepped into the tall, domed room and saw two older elves - a man with a long, pointed beard and a cold, bitter-faced woman - sitting across the wide, circular room at the top of the stairs on their fine silver chairs that mimicked the thrones of the king and queen of Draconia. They were surrounded by three other elves who stared down at Vero with cold, unfeeling glares.

The hall was made of white stone, framed by tall, magnificent pillars and filled with the same plants and silks that defined the Verikov estate. The stained glass dome that was the ceiling was bright thanks to the morning sun, letting the elegant colors of cream, lilac, and royal blue along with the depictions of graceful birds - most notably, the albatross that signified the crest of the Verikovy - shine down on the elven family. Above their thrones, a tapestry depicting the silver dragon Agas loomed above the elves.

Lady Vero approached the silver thrones and pulled her shoulders back. She stopped when she reached the foot of the stairs. “Greetings, Father. Greetings, Mother.” She nodded to each of her parents, bowing her head deeply to each of them.

“Veronika,” her father said with a gruff tone. Vero’s face was as still as stone as she raised her gaze to him. “How in the hell did you let a devil spawn into our domain and let them take off with our belongings?”

Vero lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back further. A picture of nobility. “I did everything I could to stop her, father.”

“Really?” her mother chimed in with a scoff. “Everything? You did everything in your power and still let a petty thief slip out from your grasp from your own room? If I didn’t know better, I would assume that you brought that wretch in yourself to-”

“Quiet, Veron!” Vero’s father ordered. Her mother shut her mouth, but that vindictive glare remained. Vero returned her mother’s expression with a steady, calm one of her own. The only thing that moved was Vero’s chipped thumb scratching at her hidden fingers.

“Veronika,” her father spoke once more. “You have disgraced the Verikovy name. You have let a common thief into our home and failed to take back what was ours, and on a very sacred day. The heir to our family cannot be someone that weak.”

Vero’s lips tightened slightly in response. Her head refused to lower.

“You have given me no choice but to remove you from your position and give your title to the next in line, Viktoria.” The tall woman stepped forward next to their father and looked down at Vero from the top of the stairs. Viktoria wore a subtle but contemptuous grin as she looked down at her older sister.

“Viktoria will take your place as my heir.” As he made his declaration, the head of the Verikovy family rose to his feet. “As for you…” he began. Vero swallowed and she steadied her shaking hands.

“Father,” Vero interrupted. Her hands started to move of their own accord and she began picking at her nailbeds. Both he and her mother’s eyes went wide from the audacity of her outburst. Vero forced her hands to her sides in order to stop her dreadful habit. “I have lived my life to be your heir. You speak of my lack of strength, but only a fool would sit idly by and let their life’s purpose be usurped. I will prove myself to you by bringing back the head of the thief that dishonored the Verikovy name. I will take it myself and prove to you that I am the only one truly worthy of being your heir.”

Viktoria scoffed, and their mother looked dumbfounded by such a bold declaration. “You will be beheaded for this, you wretched-” her mother was cut off once more by a calm raise of Viktor’s hand. The room fell quiet, eerily so, as Viktor Verikov contemplated Vero’s words.

“The Verikovy name has already been tainted, Veronika. What do you think bringing us the thief’s head will do?”

“I will make an example of her to show that I too have your strength and will not be trifled with so easily. Those who believe they can question the will of the Verikovy and its heir will be dealt with similarly. You will know peace then, father, knowing that your heir will show the same level of commitment to greatness as you for the following centuries. I will restore our honor and revitalize our legacy tenfold by taking the thief’s head and presenting it as a gift to you, and I will make her horns into an instrument befit for a family as great as the Verikovy. You have my word.”

Viktoria and their mother looked at Vero in shock. Vero’s eyes stayed locked on her father’s face, focusing solely on his reaction. She kept her own expression steady as well as her hands. He looked down at his eldest daughter, and after a moment of contemplation, shut his eyes. “Very well,” he conceded. “If you do as you say, I will consider restoring you as my heir. Until then,” his blue eyes opened once more with scorn. “You will not show your face to us. You will leave my sight and only return once you have followed your word.”

“I understand,” Vero bowed her head deeply.

“Then begone with you.”

Vero lowered herself into a deep bow before turning and elegantly making her exit with long, delicate steps.

“And Veronika?” her father called from behind. Vero turned fully back towards her family. “Do not disgrace the Verikovy name any further, or else I will hunt you down and purge you from our family myself.”

Vero deeply bowed to him once more. “I understand, father.”

Vero stood up one last time, turned her back on her family, and began to make her exit from the home that was no longer hers.

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