***Marigold Constallion***

I’m not good at being nice. The Soranians know that already, so trying to pretend is being pointless.

“This is my great-great-great grandfather,” I state, pointing to an oil painting above our heads. The man in it is big and fat like his red moustache. The painting itself is big and expensive and boring. Very boring. “He did something important a long time ago, so we have to keep his picture up to remind us.”

The Prince smirks so I add, “He improved a lot of conditions in the kingdom.” The bastard nods politely.

I show them some other places that Mother decided is important. The armory room, more portrait rooms, and rooms that just hold more expensive things in general. I think the whole point is to show off how rich we are, which is totally dumb because the Soranians are loaded. We’re about halfway through the tour when I figure it’s too pointless to finish.

“And that’s it,” I say as we leave a room filled with foreign maps. I turn to them and clasp my hands in front of me and put on a smile. “Now that you know your way around, feel free to explore as you please.”

“That is all?” Prince Nierxes asks.

“Yes. Is there anything else you would like to see?” I ask. The question comes out snappier than I meant it to. It was the first time he’d said something outside of required backchanneling, so he caught me off guard.

“Cal and I are inside for many days,” Prince Nierxes points out, crossing his arms. “We want to see the garden. You wanted to show us.”

Right. I did say that.

“If you wish,” I reply, shrugging.

The gardens stretch around the castle like a cocoon of green, and some of the vines even climb up the walls. Father thinks that it looks charming, so Mother doesn’t have them removed even though it must bother her.

We have fountains and flowers in all kinds shapes and colors and sizes, but with the moon covered by the clouds it’s too dark to really appreciate. Usually when we first bring out guests they ooh and aah over this and that, but the Prince doesn’t try so hard. I guess it’s a little pathetic to fake enthusiasm for stuff you can’t actually see.

A cluster of hedges three times my height leads to a maze that runs a third of the castle’s perimeter. It’s kind of disorienting if you don’t know the way in and out, which made it one of my favorite hiding places. It’s also the first thing that genuinely catches Prince Nierxes’ attention.

“I would like to go in,” he states. I can’t see the expression on his face, but for the first time he actually sounds excited.

“I can’t see well enough to guide you,” I reply. Which is a half truth. I’ve memorized the maze so well I can make it through without opening my eyes. I tested myself before, back when Nathaniel was still here. We both tripped a lot and felt like idiots, but it was fun. Really fun.

“I can go by myself,” the Prince declares.

“Sure,” I reply.

I didn’t feel like letting him wander around in there, but it’s not like I’d be going back anytime soon. It held too many spoiled memories, ones I shouldn’t feel so protective over.

Nathaniel was right. I could be such a girl sometimes.

And then it starts.

Stupid fucking tears squeeze from my eyes and blur what little I can see and the world turns into one big fat blob of fucking nothing. I bite my lower lip so I don’t make any sound. At least it’s dark enough that neither of them can see me. If I manage to keep my voice steady then maybe they won’t find out. At least, that’s what I think until the Prince presses a handkerchief into my hands and then I realize that, shit, these freaks can probably see in the dark.

I rip the handkerchief from his grasp because no one expects you to give a shit about manners when you’re crying, and fuck, I fucking hate it when people are nice to me while I’m crying because it makes it so much harder to stop.

I shove the damp handkerchief back into his hand and don’t say anything in case my voice comes out sounding clogged and runny.

“Are you feeling better?”

“No,” I reply, even though I do, just a little bit, but then I realize that it’s not the Prince - no, the voice is too quiet, barely scraping against the air between us like some kind of ghost - it’s his fucking bastard.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” I snap. “Well, screw you. Nobody wanted you either.”

Gods, it’s so obvious that I’m crying in my voice. I wish I could just die.

The bastard doesn’t scream back, doesn’t insult me, doesn’t do anything. All can feel is the creeping sensation that she’s just watching me, which isn’t fair because I can’t see her. I cross my arms and turn away from her weird purple eyes.

“I wanted to thank you,” she finally says. I don’t hear any sarcasm laced in her words, nothing backhanded, but my brain knows that doesn’t make any sense. People don’t ever mean nice things when you’re crying.

“You offered to give us a tour to give us some space from your mother,” the bastard continues. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Is that what I did? I don't know. All I know is that I was planning on extracting as much fun as I could by pinning the Soranians under my thumb like a bored kid with a helpless bug, but then Mother did it and instead of it being funny like I thought it would be, it felt gross and I just didn’t want to be sitting next to her anymore, to have her touching my hair. It’s not like I’ve never said or done anything worse, but it’s gross seeing your own mom like that.

Now that Mother sucked all the fun out of being cruel, I don’t know how to act around the Soranians anymore. I can’t be nice - if I was going to be nice I should have started from the beginning. They already know what I’m like now, so suddenly pulling out the welcoming friend mask would look fake. Even worse, they might think I felt bad about how I acted before, which isn’t true at all because Nier was the one acting like an ungrateful shit.

“Whatever,” I reply. I try to sound like I couldn’t care less, but the snotty nose was messing that up pretty badly. I can’t believe some foreign bastard got to see me like this.

And then we just stand there. It’s awkward and I want to leave but I don’t because then she’d think I was running away and that alone is enough to piss me off enough for the awkwardness to be replaced by annoyance. It’s better this way - I’m used to feeling annoyed.

I turn back to face the bastard. To my satisfaction, the outline of her face begins to take shape in the darkness. It’s a comfortable knowing that the longer I stay out, the less of a disadvantaged the night is.

“Where’s the Prince, bastard?” I ask, relieved to hear more of my normal self in my voice.

“He went into the maze, Princess.”

“Well, don’t you follow him everywhere?”

“Yes,” the bastard admits, “but the Silence will keep him safe here. And you needed - ”

I slap her. The sounds echoes in the still summer air and buzzes in my palm.

“I’ve never needed anyone and I never will,” I spit.

“I wasn’t going to say that you needed me,” she replies, unaffected. No matter what anyone does to put her down she manages to brush it off like she doesn’t care, like none of it matters, but it’s a lie. It has to be. Everyone cares.

“Yeah, right,” I sneer. “What were you going to say, then?”

“That you needed a handkerchief.”

My mouth twitches.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“At once, Princess.”

The bastard turns to leave but my hand catches on her sleeve. She tenses, but doesn’t move.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “About my mother,” I add quickly.

“Thank you.”

I let go of her sleeve and she slips into the maze, into the night.

---

Woo, two chapters, there ya go. Just 'cause. Currently in the process of rewriting the story with a lot of major plot changes because I reread the older chapters and wanted to projectile vomit onto the screen. At the very beginning I started writing Dented Armor for shits and giggles and I didn't consider plot points very seriously. The story grew on me, though, and the more it bothered me that some things didn't have a purpose or could be done better.

I handed some redone drafts to my friends in person and got some good critiques about needing to work on physical descriptions and flow, and after rereading my work I agree with them.

Sorry for the hiatus (again.) As for a real life update I went to Alaska for work but things didn't work out so I found another job, started living on a boat shortly thereafter banging the captain, my boss, and now we might get married. Is that a good excuse? Maybe not.

Anyways. Life's been real, y'all.