#av3

They are round and plump, much like Edward's. Good for them; they'll never go hungry or roofless for a day in their lives. The little princesses can have all the luxuries they want, afford hobbies here and there, and live a life without having to suffer so greatly. Edward makes sure of it.

Except for when they have to deal with the Ruperts and the opposition, maybe. She doesn't know why Edward hasn't completely rid of them. She feels out of place in the kingdom; her daughters too are oddballs. Politics is so complicated.

But Mel's happy enough to have given birth to her adorable twins in a life of pleasure. Everything they need is served to them on a golden platter, and every promise she can make with them will be a promise fulfilled.

Mel stares at herself in the mirror and sees her daughters' faces.

They are angular, much like Gyendal's. Their menacing eyes and twisted smiles are his own, and they are icons of chaos in a land already filled with darkness.

Mel regrets having given birth to them. She now worries for two more people. Her servant Yemite is faithful to her, but she can't say the same of her power-hungry mate. One day, perhaps, she might be strong enough to dispose of him, and she and her twins will have this empire to themselves.

And one day, she will have to think of what to do, should the twins turn against her, too. They are, after all, Gyendal's spawns. She can only pray - to whomsoever hears her - that her daughters take after her more.

Mel stares at herself in the mirror and sees her daughter's faces.

She can't remember the man who she embraced, but she sees the twinkle of his features when her twins enjoy themselves. Seeing them find happiness in their wretched lives on the streets make every tough and unforgiving decision worth it.

Mel regrets becoming their mother. They should have been born to someone else, someone who could give them a better life. They're so thin and frail. They spend days hungry and exposed to danger. She was just a thief, a rat in the streets, and she's stolen their futures from her daughters. What kind of parent is she to have conceived them in the first place?

Mel stares at herself in the mirror and sees her daughter's faces.

Or at least, the faces of the daughters she could've had. She's chosen to terminate the pregnancy, after all, a decision she always reminds herself of. Having kids don't automatically make life better, after all.

She takes care of herself and herself only. To share resources with someone else is simply a bother. One day, you could trust them; another, they turn on you. If you're lucky, they won't steal from you, but Mel isn't too lucky in that regard.

Maybe in another life, she'll have a chance at a more, well, normal womanhood. But there's no space for normalcy or regrets in this life.

-

Mel stares at herself in the mirror and sees her daughter's faces.

Their eyes are closed, as they comfortable nestle up with their father, listening to his stories. Lars - or "Luxen" to those close to him - is a wealthy man, able to afford them a life where they don't need to worry about their needs. He's involved in their magic studies and he's ready to fight for their rights and wants. He's a feisty and persistent one who knows what he wants and will get what he wants: a family with Mel.

It's cheesy, she thinks. But she's willing to go down with this little embarrassment of hers. She's happy with her husband, and her twins are happy with their father.