The Heirs

Chapter 18- Burned and Broken

those harebells like a sudden flush of sea
breaking across the woodland,
with the foam of meadow-sweet
and white anemone to fleck their blue waves,—
God is likelier there, than hidden in
that crystal-hearted star the pale monks bear!
those violet-gleaming butterflies that take
yon creamy lily for their pavilion
-

Someone was talking to her. Selene was vaguely aware of a presence by her bed and aware that they were speaking, but it as well might have been bees buzzing, for all she listened.

She was sitting up, and staring out the window of her hospital chamber. The world outside was gold and blue, and she could hear the sound of the waves lapping pleasantly. Once, she'd loved that sound. Now, she loathed it. She loathed her mother. She loathed this room. She loathed everything. She loathed herself, most of all, even more than she had before- before she became this hideous specimen even doctors avoided looking at. Her beauty had been her weapon and her shield, and now she was powerless.

When she'd first woken up, she had asked to have a mirror brought in, so she could see what exactly she'd inflicted on herself. She had been certain that nothing, nothing could make her feel as bad as the gaping hole where her mother's love had been, but she'd looked at her reflection, and she'd been stunned.

That person- that thing- in the mirror was not her. It couldn't be her.

The creature was repulsive- the left side of her head had darkened to an ugly, burnished-red hue, and angry welts had sprouted down her neck and shoulder. Half of her hair had burnt away, and parts of her cheek had become charred black. The left of her lip had become twisted and bent, making it seem as though she was permanently disgruntled, though her speech thankfully hadn't been affected. She'd been having trouble breathing through her nose, and now she could see why- the skin had peeled off, and the nostril had become almost fused with the skin below it. Worst of all, was her eye. She could still see well enough- as well as she ever had, anyway- but the bright brown of her left iris had dimmed to a mousey grey. She had wondered if it could still glow blue.

She was supposed to look like her father. She was supposed to be beautiful.

She had dropped the mirror, and thrown up, before falling back into bed.

The next time she'd got up, she had shattered the mirror with her fist, and had then thrown it out of the window, before staring down at her charred and bloodstained hands.

Creature.

"Princess- Selene, are you listening- Selene-"

Out of nowhere, an arm shook her shoulder and she jumped, turning around. No one had touched her since she'd woken up. She'd screamed bloody murder when the nurses had attempted to change her hospital gown, and they had fled, refusing to return unless she personally called for them.

It was Khian, standing beside her bed, his lips pursed. He wasn't looking at her face, but at the bedspread, and something writhed inside her.

"What?"

He cleared his throat, "I was speaking to you."

"And I wasn't listening."

"This is important."

"Do you think I care?"

He swallowed, and sat down on the bed. He looked- there was no doubt about it- tortured.

"It's important for me. For you. For us."

"Unless you've somehow become castrated," She spoke acidly, "I can't fathom what you're on about."