“我错了。”
她猛地将手中的彩纸摔在地上，指甲深深掐进掌心。这是今天第七次了，她不该触碰那个位置，不该轻声问好。
血，从指缝间渗出一滴，沾湿了衣襟。她抬手想要擦去，指尖却停住了。
“小姐，”一个陌生女子的声音在身后响起，“你又迟到了。”
她猛地转身， see a girl standing at the door, her eyes red and filled with blood. Her voice was trembling, "Miss, you've been late again."
The room fell silent.
She turned to look behind her, but saw nothing.
The air felt heavier than usual, as if someone was breathing heavily on the walls.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart.
"Where are you going?" she demanded.
The girl opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. Her eyes were filled with something she couldn't describe, but she knew exactly what it was.
That look.
The same look her father had given when he died.
Her stomach churned.
She turned and walked out of the room without another glance.
But before she left, she felt a sharp pang in her chest. A memory flashing through her mind: the day her parents were killed. The blood on her hands. The way their voices sounded like a siren's wail.
And now, it was her turn.
The doors to her chamber creaked open.
She stepped inside, holding her hands up in front of her.
"Good morning," she said softly.
But no one spoke.
She took off her gloves and placed them on the table. The blood from yesterday had dried completely, leaving a faint trail that looked like a trail of tears.
She sat down at her writing desk, her fingers trembling as she picked up a quill. The paper was cold to the touch, but she didn't care.
"Today is your day," someone said suddenly.
She jumped, her pen nearly dropping from her hand.
There were voices around her now. Hundreds of them. Or perhaps it was just the sound of her own breathing.
The air felt heavier still.
She looked up, and saw a room full of people. Women in flowing robes, men in tight pants. Some had masks on their faces, others didn't. All of them were waiting for her.
She hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Your highness."
The words came out shaky, but clear enough to be heard across the chamber.
She stood and walked towards the center of the room. The people who had spoken were all holding their positions, their faces either blank or filled with fear. She didn't recognize any of them, but she knew they were enemies.
"Your highness," someone else said, "you have to make a move."
She turned her back on them and took a step forward into the center. The air around her seemed to shift, as if something was watching her every move.
She looked down at her hands again. The blood was still there, though it had thinned slightly.
"Your highness," someone else said, "follow through."
She nodded and stepped back towards the writing desk. She picked up another quill and wrote quickly. Her penmanship was steady, but she could feel the tension in her fingers.
The room fell silent again as she finished.
She read what she had written.
"Today is your day.