#haethon

What is wrong with me lately?  I snap at Brei for no reaon. Well, that’s not true.We used to be close. We would talk. We were honest with each other. Now she wont even let me use her name and she silences her husband when he goes to give an honest answer to a question. Why? What happened? I always looked at her like a big sister and now she’s acting like I’m practically a stranger. Then the tart has the audacity to seem to question my etiquette, when it is perfectly acceptable to use a title with a first name for someone with whom you are familiar and of equal status.  What I don’t understand is why I’m angry so often, and some days I’m the exact opposite. Some days are so dark that I get scared that I’m going to run away or hurt something. Sometimes I want to. My ears are hurting and I don’t know why. I mean, I read up on puberty and such, because in nursing we learn all about chemicals and body changes, but nothing was mentioned about ears hurting or the fact that loud noises feel like something is exploding in my head.... or that my skin feels all itchy and like I’m being burned and tickled at the same time. Have you ever had those times when it doesn’t matter what someone is saying, but the sound of their voice just makes you feel disgusted and angry and you just want to hit them? Somewhere inside I know that it’s not them, but the tone.. and the words. It’s like velvet that has rotted. It’s even worse when I’m on my period. I don’t know who I am anymore. I was their Haethon heir, and honestly, I still am. My adoption is as good a blood, and mother inherited despite their being male heirs. I don’t push the issue, because really, a true noble and heir would be concerned with the well-being of the house as is her responsibility. Not over petty things like who the title is going to go to in forty years. I’m better than that, but it still irks when everyone thinks of Robert at the heir because he’s got a penis. Then again, if they did think of me, I’d be the one they were thinking of taking away. Guess I should count myself lucky in that- sorta. Others have noticed that things aren’t right. Lady Cerridwyn noticed and we talked for a little bit, but I didn’t know what to say. I just didn’t. I don’t know what to do. I just know I can’t keep going like this. It hurts.

Joe: You better learn to speak French and you better speak it sexier.

Who asks that of a kid, especially one who has already lost? Most are not so brash, but the sentiment is the same. They’ll talk about the cultural things I should be learning, or how difficult it’s going to be for me in polite society. What they don’t seem to see is that they’re the ones who make it difficult.  The difficulty is that sometimes I feel like I’m wearing a costume and no one knows that it’s not real. When they say “your people”, it doesn't mean anything to me, because I have only ever known humans. All that phrase does is tell me that I don’t belong, that I am different. If they bothered to look, they would see that I’m also kind and I’m smart. I’m driven and dedicated and I’m just like any other girl my age, except that I also have a nursing certification. I am an artist and I love my family and would do anything for my house. These are the important things, not my ears, not my skin (though those are effing beautiful, so eff you world!) I wish I could just say: Take some time to see who I am, because there’s a pretty nice girl under that skin. Let my mother worry about my education or whether or not I am happy.

I just hope my people don't suffer from our poor timing.

That is the only real part of Rhett's punishment that gets me. The clinic was my one place where I wasn't a noble. I was just MIzzen, an aspiring nurse. I wasn't any better or any worse than anyone else and there was something liberating about that. Perhaps it is better that I've simply been taken off the schedule for the next week or two. I've leave coming anyway.

I'm coming for you, Brei. Hold on.

One day.

Tomorrow. It will all be over tomorrow.