ballet.
 
oh, does it soothe me.
 
a wonderful distraction from daily annoyances,
like my little brother for instance. he's always
eating his ice cream, getting things sticky. he's
always so whimsical, wanting to play when it's
the time for work. he sneaks out so, so often.
he thinks i don't notice, but i do, yet i can't
bring myself to tell when he does. maybe i'll
threaten him with the fact when i need him
for something. i think that sounds funny.
 
...
 
no, i'm not cruel. i'm not mean, either.
 
it's not my fault every boy i know is just annoying.
if i have the opportunity to find humor from their
misfortunes, then so be it. it's the least they can
do while they keep me from focusing on the
things that matter, like my ballet and my blade.
a proper princess must be both elegant and able

 

 
 

 
killing.
 
it's a means to an end.
 
i have not yet had the displeasure of personally
ending someone's life, but i was fourteen years
old when i sentenced someone to their death.
the executioner told me that one must live to
tell the tale while the other one must become
the tale. i always thought our enemies would
come in the form of terrible, eldritch beings,
but the ones that sat before me were nothing
but scared girls, crying as i struggled to decide
who would continue and who would not.
 
...
 
by leonaus, i'm so weak.
 
i almost vomited as i watched that hallowed
blade plunge into that girl's form. do you want
to know what her last words consisted of? a
goodbye to her sister, then a thank you to me
for choosing her over the younger one. despite
the comforting of my mother, i can't get the scene
out of my mind. why do i feel so awful? why
can't i be as firm and sure of myself as my mother?
why can't i just close my heart off to my enemy?
 
...
 
it's all so tiring, but i'll just have to bear it.
yes, i must remember that what i did
today was something few people can do.
it was a good thing. it was a just thing.
 
 

 
war.
 
is there anything quite like it?
 
never before have i experienced something
that gives me the same mixture of trepidation
and excitement. one false move and it could
potentially spell your end, but find an opening
on your opponent? you'll possibly taste the
sweetest thing you could ever imagine.
i think i enjoy it. i think i enjoy fighting. it's
fun to put myself against an opponent
and exert power in such a primal fashion.
 
...
 
did i make a face during it?
 
friends of mine have often pointed out that
sometimes i express emotions without
even realizing it. a girl who hides her face with
 a long and flowing scarf claimed that i looked
tense. my loyal retainer asked if i was doing
well, possibly because of the expression
i was wearing, so i wonder, what kind of
face did i have on during that bout?
did i look happy? afraid? determined?
all i know is that while feeling
my own blood run down my visage,
one thing is certain:
 
...
 
i want more of it.
not only because our battle
against the wicked is righteous, but
because battling against the wicked is fun.