[fic] Princess Tutu ; Unfinished
“Poor little duck. You want to make your prince happy, do you not?”
“Quack…?”
The handless man gave a Cheshire grin, cackling out of the back of his throat and skimming over the pages of the unfinished book before him. The dust on the binding shifted with the movement, creating small puffs of dust.
“Maybe if you became a princess, you would be able to help him. Become a princess, dear duck. Tell me a story.”
And so her wings fell off and a crown was placed upon her head.
xXx
Her prince released a quiet noise as the broken piece embedded itself into his chest with a fluid motion. He looked at the graceful being before him, and for a moment felt something stir underneath his skin - a beat? - but it was gone as quick as it arrived.
The princess gave a soft smile and a curtsy, turning around to take her leave without an offer of her name. And once again, the strange sensation brushed against the tender area, leaving him suddenly feeling heavier than usual. He could not remember ever experiencing something like it; it left him quite confused, even after the image of the dainty ballerina left his field of vision.
It was strange, and he asked about it to the hands that abruptly made their place on his shoulders. He asked, and felt the fingers contract around his sleeves.
“…A feeling?” The other boy had to repeat it in his head. The mention of a word he had never made before. It did not rest well in the knight’s stomach, no not at all.
xXx
She threw her body with everything she had against the door, ignoring the intimidating figure making his way by her side. Ahiru couldn’t care about him, not when he was doing horrible things to her prince-!
“You only just started getting shards of your heart back!” she called out, fingers futilely gripping at the doorknob. But it was a second later when her wrists were gripped and her back collided with the wall; she was suddenly standing with her arms outstretched and exposed to his menacing glare.
“What do you know,” he hissed through his teeth, “about Mytho.” And he repeated the question once more with more ferocity, giving her wrists a shake and holding her so firmly that her fingers curled into the palms.
“I - I know that…” she gulped, trying to swallow the lump in her throat and stop the tears from welling up, “I know that - that he needs to be able to feel happiness and - and love, and-!”
“You know nothing.”
xXx
The princess stood before her prince, a shy smile resting on her features and fingers extended. “This will be the last time,” she said, memories swirling of his fearful screams - brought about by her own actions. “I will no longer seek to restore your heart.”
But his golden eyes grew wide and the small little beat gained in tempo. “But…I feel something when you’re here…and something else when you’re not.” He took a step closer, resting his palm in the area below his neck. “I want to understand what they are. Princess Tutu…I want my heart to be restored.”
And the princess of crows appeared, stealing his curiosity away.
xXx
It was the first sign of his true self, as the desire for knowledge finally began settling in his bosom. The prince sat back against the window, listening to echoes of his own voice asking for what Princess Tutu thought of him.
Turning to Fakir, he released the smallest hints of a smile, his gaze landing on the thick book in between their beds. Princess Tutu, the character he always wanted to read about, always demanding his companion to read her confession over and over again. He practically had it memorized. And now there was a girl calling herself that princess, restoring the broken shards of his heart to him. Mytho couldn’t help but wonder, with his newfound curiosity, if this Princess Tutu retained the same aspects of her storybook persona.
“Her feelings for me, I want to know,” he mused quietly, tugging at the thin white cloth over his chest. “The moment she confesses her love for me and turns into a speck of light…I want to know what that looks like.” His voice was low, and a light chuckle accompanied the last of his words.
And the knight couldn’t stop the shiver from running up and down his spine. Mytho’s storybook self was slowly starting to seep through; he had to stop it. He had to. He didn’t know who Princess Tutu really was or what her intentions were, but he wouldn’t let her succeed. The princess who so foolishly put her love into this prince…did she really understand what she was doing?
xXx
“Give me the sword!” Fakir shouted, a red pendant held taught in his grip. “The sword of Lohengrin - I need it now.”
The man sat at his desk, refusing to turn around. Without ceasing his work, he replied simply. “I will not.”
“You made a promise.”
“When you were a boy.” Placing the axe carefully down on the table, the man pushed himself to stand up and casted a glance behind him, unnoticing of the small yellow duck crouched in the corner. “When you believed you were the tragic knight.”
Fakir’s knuckles began turning white, his fingers fiercely digging into his palms. “The prince is getting his heart back,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “He cannot go back to his true self. Just as the knight in the story, I will betray him.” At this, he flexed his hands several times. “But unlike the knight, I will not allow the prince to strike me down!” And with that, he leapt forward to grab an old dulled blade, spinning around to make his way out the door.
The echo of a slap resonated throughout the room.
xXx
“…You are her.” The statement was simple and vague, but the girl more than knew what he was referring to, and her blood ran cold as she stifled a quack through her fingertips.
But as she futilely tried to stare down his green gaze, Ahiru found it in herself to ask, “Why don’t you want to restore Mytho’s heart? Don’t you think it would be better?”
Fakir closed his eyes and allowed his scowl to deepen. “I have no need to explain myself to you. Nor you to me. We are enemies,” shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned around and began pacing to the door, “simple as that.”
But even after he left, Ahiru could only stand there and remember how warm his arms were the previous night. There must have been a reason for his actions, there must have…
xXx
Princess Tutu held out the heart shard, her smile light as always and watching the prince spreading his arms open in acceptance. “I am the heart shard of happiness,” the small red light whispered from the curves of her palm, “shattered and forgotten.”
“Happiness,” the ballerina repeated, a giggle dotting over the syllables. Something the prince truly would like, and would make him smile… The trek was long and hard, but she could tell that her quest would soon be over. His heart would be complete anytime soon. Perhaps there was only one more heart shard to go…
And even as the little gem dissipated into the rest of the collection, she heard him laughing for the first time.
…No, not laughing…chuckling.
Before she could open her mouth to question it, a pair of strong hands grasped at her forearms and yanked her back as the voice behind her shouted.
“What have you done?!”
xXx
The first thing the prince did with his newfound emotions was devour the heart of a young lively girl.
At the same time, Princess Tutu had finally fulfilled her wish of seeing her prince smile - his lips curling as the warm liquid seeped down his chin.
She couldn’t hear his thanks over the sound of her screams.
xXx
For days Ahiru sat, crying and questioning. Her prince needed a heart! Without it he was like a lifeless doll, without the ability to laugh or smile or love… But it seemed that she had only given him the power to laugh. And terrorize.
Fakir sat in front of her, his gaze not so hard anymore but still stern. He placed a warm drink in front of the girl, not thinking about the fact that he had never expected to act so calm around his sworn enemy.
Minutes passed, and finally he spoke.
“…I can’t believe you. Sitting and moping after you finished your goal.” Or at least most of it. But the prince probably had no use for the last shard of his heart anyway. Not when he was practically complete already.
Ahiru stifled a sob, uncaring of the fact that he could see her childish yellow pillow. And she turned away from the offered refreshment, a pout on her lips and heart feeling like it was more broken than Mytho’s ever was.
But she had to ask.
“What…happened to him…?”
The knight looked at her head on, keeping his green eyes steady and clear. His reply was straight to the point. “You happened to him.”
The girl blinked. “Wh…what? But I didn’t tell him to ki…do anything! I only wanted…I only wanted to see him smile!”
“Well you saw it, didn’t you?!” Without warning Fakir stood up, knocking his knee against the table harshly and scattering the tableware about. “Right as he consumed your friend’s heart, you saw that very smile you so wanted on his face! Did that satisfy you, Princess Tutu? Are you happy now?”
“N-No!” she all but screamed out into the room, fresh tears sliding down her moistened cheeks. “I d-didn’t know that…that he would do th-that!” And she broke down again, uncaring that her enemy was right there watching her in such a weakened state.
And he didn’t care that she was weakened either. It was all her fault. And she didn’t even know a damn thing.
“Have you even read The Prince and The Raven?”
Throwing her head into the pillow, Ahiru sat still for a moment as she thought. As it turned out…no, she never had read the book. She had been nothing more than a duck before, and once she had turned into a girl, she only had enough time to get the gist of the story. The prince and the raven were enemies, and that was it. But why was that important? What did it matter what happened inside the story, if it was outside the pages where her prince was heartless?
Taking her silence as a no, Fakir released an exasperated sigh. “Well then you at least know of why the book is so famous.”
At that, Ahiru found a little strength to lift her head up. Her eyes were bleary and puffy from the tears, and she gave a sniffle. “B-Because…it’s unfinished, right…?”
…The knight could not believe his ears. He would have shot up again if he weren’t already standing in the middle of the room, so instead he slammed his hands against the flat surface of the table.
Ahiru jumped at the sudden movement, her blue eyes widening and heart leaping through her chest. “F-Fa-?”
“You stupid idiot!” he shouted. “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t know what Mytho is, don’t you dare.”
Despite that his words were literally leaving her shaking in her seat, Ahiru couldn’t lie to him; not when it felt like she was missing something extremely important. So she gave a high-pitched squeak. “I-I don’t!”
Clenched fists met the wooden surface once more. “You’re telling me you restored his heart without knowing of the consequences?!”
“I did-!” The small girl was all but sobbing in the open air, gripping her pillow tightly and breaths hitched and labored.
And for a moment, it looked as though Fakir had calmed down. Allowing his shoulders to relax, he kept his gaze steady on the redhead before him, and spoke calmly.
“The Prince and The Raven is a famous book,” he whispered, although the sheer anger and ferocity of his voice did not leave him, “because it is told through the point of view of the villain.”
xXx
The ballerina princess stood outside the school grounds, uncharacteristically and ungracefully toying with her fingers in nervousness. The princess of the crows was to meet her there and take her to her father…
A cold wave ran up and down her spine. It was true that she was informed of most everything she needed to know from Fakir, but it still couldn’t quell the apprehensiveness in her stomach.
The dark-haired knight had read the story hundreds of times, so he knew everything about the text. And with it, he finally gave the girl a complete summary of the tale. That the prince was an evil man who thirsted for power. And the opposing character was the Wise Old Raven, who protected the forest and lands with his knowledge and wisdom. The prince wanted those traits, and aimed to consume the Wise Raven’s heart…
Princess Tutu exhaled, casting skittish glances to and fro, waiting for any sign of the familiar prima donna. And she allowed her thoughts to continue.
…The prince battled with the Raven for what seemed like years alongside his trusted knight, but it was only after the death of a loved one when the knight saw the error of their ways and betrayed the prince. But the prince struck him down without batting an eye, and soon escaped from the story, where the great bird followed and forcibly shattered his heart to tame the insane man. And there they stayed; the prince reduced to a wandering heartless doll, the Raven hiding and making sure the man never rose to power once more.
And Princess Tutu was the one who helped Mytho gain his heart again. And with it, his true self - a villain.
xXx
The area was dark, and filled with the screeching cries of wavering somethings as Princess Kraehe led the white one to where her father would be.
Meandering through pillars of white feathers, Princess Tutu searched for ways to fill the silence between her and the dark girl.
“Your father…is he kind?”
Keeping her red eyes ahead, Princess Kraehe replied. “Not kind. Wise. All-knowing. He took me in - a parentless child - and granted me his knowledge and blood. And a promise for the prince’s hand. A suitable husband, at least without an evil heart.” At this, she did turn around and flashed her blooded gaze. “But that obviously has changed now, no thanks to you, foolish princess.”
The girl quieted, and said nothing for the rest of the walk.
xXx
“Ahhh…”
It may have been a sigh, but it filled the entire vicinity and shook Princess Tutu to the very core. She shivered, unable to differentiate between the Wise Raven’s bill and piercing eyes.
“The princess has come, father,” the girl before her spoke, gesturing behind her back. “She was the one who restored the prince’s heart.”
At that, the great bird released a shrill call, and Princess Tutu had to anchor herself on a feather pillar in order to prevent herself from completely flying away.
“Foolish princess! You have fulfilled your evil wishes; for what purpose have you come? Are you here to mock me?”
“I’m - I’m sorry!” she squeaked, flinching away and holding tightly. “I’m not-!”
But the dark girl stood up, holding her hand out to the being before her that seemed to take up the entire sky. “She is not here to mock you, father. It is as you call her - she is nothing but foolish. She wishes…”Turning toward Princess Tutu, Princess Kraehe lifted an eyebrow, and fell silent. Obviously, she wanted the white girl to make the request herself. Princess Kraehe was no messenger.
And understanding the dark girl’s quiet expression, Princess Tutu slowly found the strength in her feet to let go of the pillar and stand up straight. She fixed her gaze to the great being, and spoke aloud with all the faux confidence she could muster.
“Wise Raven…while it is true that I am the one who has restored the prince’s heart, I have now seen the error of my ways. And now, I…” for a moment her gaze faltered, falling down to her feet. Her next words had already sounded out in her head, and they would be…painful to say. She…loved the prince. Or at least she thought she did. But no, all this time it was her in the wrong. And she had to make things right…before the prince ultimately destroyed Goldkrone, and everything in his way…
…Mytho…
“I wish…I wish to shatter the prince’s heart once more.”
End
“Quack…?”
The handless man gave a Cheshire grin, cackling out of the back of his throat and skimming over the pages of the unfinished book before him. The dust on the binding shifted with the movement, creating small puffs of dust.
“Maybe if you became a princess, you would be able to help him. Become a princess, dear duck. Tell me a story.”
And so her wings fell off and a crown was placed upon her head.
xXx
Her prince released a quiet noise as the broken piece embedded itself into his chest with a fluid motion. He looked at the graceful being before him, and for a moment felt something stir underneath his skin - a beat? - but it was gone as quick as it arrived.
The princess gave a soft smile and a curtsy, turning around to take her leave without an offer of her name. And once again, the strange sensation brushed against the tender area, leaving him suddenly feeling heavier than usual. He could not remember ever experiencing something like it; it left him quite confused, even after the image of the dainty ballerina left his field of vision.
It was strange, and he asked about it to the hands that abruptly made their place on his shoulders. He asked, and felt the fingers contract around his sleeves.
“…A feeling?” The other boy had to repeat it in his head. The mention of a word he had never made before. It did not rest well in the knight’s stomach, no not at all.
xXx
She threw her body with everything she had against the door, ignoring the intimidating figure making his way by her side. Ahiru couldn’t care about him, not when he was doing horrible things to her prince-!
“You only just started getting shards of your heart back!” she called out, fingers futilely gripping at the doorknob. But it was a second later when her wrists were gripped and her back collided with the wall; she was suddenly standing with her arms outstretched and exposed to his menacing glare.
“What do you know,” he hissed through his teeth, “about Mytho.” And he repeated the question once more with more ferocity, giving her wrists a shake and holding her so firmly that her fingers curled into the palms.
“I - I know that…” she gulped, trying to swallow the lump in her throat and stop the tears from welling up, “I know that - that he needs to be able to feel happiness and - and love, and-!”
“You know nothing.”
xXx
The princess stood before her prince, a shy smile resting on her features and fingers extended. “This will be the last time,” she said, memories swirling of his fearful screams - brought about by her own actions. “I will no longer seek to restore your heart.”
But his golden eyes grew wide and the small little beat gained in tempo. “But…I feel something when you’re here…and something else when you’re not.” He took a step closer, resting his palm in the area below his neck. “I want to understand what they are. Princess Tutu…I want my heart to be restored.”
And the princess of crows appeared, stealing his curiosity away.
xXx
It was the first sign of his true self, as the desire for knowledge finally began settling in his bosom. The prince sat back against the window, listening to echoes of his own voice asking for what Princess Tutu thought of him.
Turning to Fakir, he released the smallest hints of a smile, his gaze landing on the thick book in between their beds. Princess Tutu, the character he always wanted to read about, always demanding his companion to read her confession over and over again. He practically had it memorized. And now there was a girl calling herself that princess, restoring the broken shards of his heart to him. Mytho couldn’t help but wonder, with his newfound curiosity, if this Princess Tutu retained the same aspects of her storybook persona.
“Her feelings for me, I want to know,” he mused quietly, tugging at the thin white cloth over his chest. “The moment she confesses her love for me and turns into a speck of light…I want to know what that looks like.” His voice was low, and a light chuckle accompanied the last of his words.
And the knight couldn’t stop the shiver from running up and down his spine. Mytho’s storybook self was slowly starting to seep through; he had to stop it. He had to. He didn’t know who Princess Tutu really was or what her intentions were, but he wouldn’t let her succeed. The princess who so foolishly put her love into this prince…did she really understand what she was doing?
xXx
“Give me the sword!” Fakir shouted, a red pendant held taught in his grip. “The sword of Lohengrin - I need it now.”
The man sat at his desk, refusing to turn around. Without ceasing his work, he replied simply. “I will not.”
“You made a promise.”
“When you were a boy.” Placing the axe carefully down on the table, the man pushed himself to stand up and casted a glance behind him, unnoticing of the small yellow duck crouched in the corner. “When you believed you were the tragic knight.”
Fakir’s knuckles began turning white, his fingers fiercely digging into his palms. “The prince is getting his heart back,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “He cannot go back to his true self. Just as the knight in the story, I will betray him.” At this, he flexed his hands several times. “But unlike the knight, I will not allow the prince to strike me down!” And with that, he leapt forward to grab an old dulled blade, spinning around to make his way out the door.
The echo of a slap resonated throughout the room.
xXx
“…You are her.” The statement was simple and vague, but the girl more than knew what he was referring to, and her blood ran cold as she stifled a quack through her fingertips.
But as she futilely tried to stare down his green gaze, Ahiru found it in herself to ask, “Why don’t you want to restore Mytho’s heart? Don’t you think it would be better?”
Fakir closed his eyes and allowed his scowl to deepen. “I have no need to explain myself to you. Nor you to me. We are enemies,” shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned around and began pacing to the door, “simple as that.”
But even after he left, Ahiru could only stand there and remember how warm his arms were the previous night. There must have been a reason for his actions, there must have…
xXx
Princess Tutu held out the heart shard, her smile light as always and watching the prince spreading his arms open in acceptance. “I am the heart shard of happiness,” the small red light whispered from the curves of her palm, “shattered and forgotten.”
“Happiness,” the ballerina repeated, a giggle dotting over the syllables. Something the prince truly would like, and would make him smile… The trek was long and hard, but she could tell that her quest would soon be over. His heart would be complete anytime soon. Perhaps there was only one more heart shard to go…
And even as the little gem dissipated into the rest of the collection, she heard him laughing for the first time.
…No, not laughing…chuckling.
Before she could open her mouth to question it, a pair of strong hands grasped at her forearms and yanked her back as the voice behind her shouted.
“What have you done?!”
xXx
The first thing the prince did with his newfound emotions was devour the heart of a young lively girl.
At the same time, Princess Tutu had finally fulfilled her wish of seeing her prince smile - his lips curling as the warm liquid seeped down his chin.
She couldn’t hear his thanks over the sound of her screams.
xXx
For days Ahiru sat, crying and questioning. Her prince needed a heart! Without it he was like a lifeless doll, without the ability to laugh or smile or love… But it seemed that she had only given him the power to laugh. And terrorize.
Fakir sat in front of her, his gaze not so hard anymore but still stern. He placed a warm drink in front of the girl, not thinking about the fact that he had never expected to act so calm around his sworn enemy.
Minutes passed, and finally he spoke.
“…I can’t believe you. Sitting and moping after you finished your goal.” Or at least most of it. But the prince probably had no use for the last shard of his heart anyway. Not when he was practically complete already.
Ahiru stifled a sob, uncaring of the fact that he could see her childish yellow pillow. And she turned away from the offered refreshment, a pout on her lips and heart feeling like it was more broken than Mytho’s ever was.
But she had to ask.
“What…happened to him…?”
The knight looked at her head on, keeping his green eyes steady and clear. His reply was straight to the point. “You happened to him.”
The girl blinked. “Wh…what? But I didn’t tell him to ki…do anything! I only wanted…I only wanted to see him smile!”
“Well you saw it, didn’t you?!” Without warning Fakir stood up, knocking his knee against the table harshly and scattering the tableware about. “Right as he consumed your friend’s heart, you saw that very smile you so wanted on his face! Did that satisfy you, Princess Tutu? Are you happy now?”
“N-No!” she all but screamed out into the room, fresh tears sliding down her moistened cheeks. “I d-didn’t know that…that he would do th-that!” And she broke down again, uncaring that her enemy was right there watching her in such a weakened state.
And he didn’t care that she was weakened either. It was all her fault. And she didn’t even know a damn thing.
“Have you even read The Prince and The Raven?”
Throwing her head into the pillow, Ahiru sat still for a moment as she thought. As it turned out…no, she never had read the book. She had been nothing more than a duck before, and once she had turned into a girl, she only had enough time to get the gist of the story. The prince and the raven were enemies, and that was it. But why was that important? What did it matter what happened inside the story, if it was outside the pages where her prince was heartless?
Taking her silence as a no, Fakir released an exasperated sigh. “Well then you at least know of why the book is so famous.”
At that, Ahiru found a little strength to lift her head up. Her eyes were bleary and puffy from the tears, and she gave a sniffle. “B-Because…it’s unfinished, right…?”
…The knight could not believe his ears. He would have shot up again if he weren’t already standing in the middle of the room, so instead he slammed his hands against the flat surface of the table.
Ahiru jumped at the sudden movement, her blue eyes widening and heart leaping through her chest. “F-Fa-?”
“You stupid idiot!” he shouted. “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t know what Mytho is, don’t you dare.”
Despite that his words were literally leaving her shaking in her seat, Ahiru couldn’t lie to him; not when it felt like she was missing something extremely important. So she gave a high-pitched squeak. “I-I don’t!”
Clenched fists met the wooden surface once more. “You’re telling me you restored his heart without knowing of the consequences?!”
“I did-!” The small girl was all but sobbing in the open air, gripping her pillow tightly and breaths hitched and labored.
And for a moment, it looked as though Fakir had calmed down. Allowing his shoulders to relax, he kept his gaze steady on the redhead before him, and spoke calmly.
“The Prince and The Raven is a famous book,” he whispered, although the sheer anger and ferocity of his voice did not leave him, “because it is told through the point of view of the villain.”
xXx
The ballerina princess stood outside the school grounds, uncharacteristically and ungracefully toying with her fingers in nervousness. The princess of the crows was to meet her there and take her to her father…
A cold wave ran up and down her spine. It was true that she was informed of most everything she needed to know from Fakir, but it still couldn’t quell the apprehensiveness in her stomach.
The dark-haired knight had read the story hundreds of times, so he knew everything about the text. And with it, he finally gave the girl a complete summary of the tale. That the prince was an evil man who thirsted for power. And the opposing character was the Wise Old Raven, who protected the forest and lands with his knowledge and wisdom. The prince wanted those traits, and aimed to consume the Wise Raven’s heart…
Princess Tutu exhaled, casting skittish glances to and fro, waiting for any sign of the familiar prima donna. And she allowed her thoughts to continue.
…The prince battled with the Raven for what seemed like years alongside his trusted knight, but it was only after the death of a loved one when the knight saw the error of their ways and betrayed the prince. But the prince struck him down without batting an eye, and soon escaped from the story, where the great bird followed and forcibly shattered his heart to tame the insane man. And there they stayed; the prince reduced to a wandering heartless doll, the Raven hiding and making sure the man never rose to power once more.
And Princess Tutu was the one who helped Mytho gain his heart again. And with it, his true self - a villain.
xXx
The area was dark, and filled with the screeching cries of wavering somethings as Princess Kraehe led the white one to where her father would be.
Meandering through pillars of white feathers, Princess Tutu searched for ways to fill the silence between her and the dark girl.
“Your father…is he kind?”
Keeping her red eyes ahead, Princess Kraehe replied. “Not kind. Wise. All-knowing. He took me in - a parentless child - and granted me his knowledge and blood. And a promise for the prince’s hand. A suitable husband, at least without an evil heart.” At this, she did turn around and flashed her blooded gaze. “But that obviously has changed now, no thanks to you, foolish princess.”
The girl quieted, and said nothing for the rest of the walk.
xXx
“Ahhh…”
It may have been a sigh, but it filled the entire vicinity and shook Princess Tutu to the very core. She shivered, unable to differentiate between the Wise Raven’s bill and piercing eyes.
“The princess has come, father,” the girl before her spoke, gesturing behind her back. “She was the one who restored the prince’s heart.”
At that, the great bird released a shrill call, and Princess Tutu had to anchor herself on a feather pillar in order to prevent herself from completely flying away.
“Foolish princess! You have fulfilled your evil wishes; for what purpose have you come? Are you here to mock me?”
“I’m - I’m sorry!” she squeaked, flinching away and holding tightly. “I’m not-!”
But the dark girl stood up, holding her hand out to the being before her that seemed to take up the entire sky. “She is not here to mock you, father. It is as you call her - she is nothing but foolish. She wishes…”Turning toward Princess Tutu, Princess Kraehe lifted an eyebrow, and fell silent. Obviously, she wanted the white girl to make the request herself. Princess Kraehe was no messenger.
And understanding the dark girl’s quiet expression, Princess Tutu slowly found the strength in her feet to let go of the pillar and stand up straight. She fixed her gaze to the great being, and spoke aloud with all the faux confidence she could muster.
“Wise Raven…while it is true that I am the one who has restored the prince’s heart, I have now seen the error of my ways. And now, I…” for a moment her gaze faltered, falling down to her feet. Her next words had already sounded out in her head, and they would be…painful to say. She…loved the prince. Or at least she thought she did. But no, all this time it was her in the wrong. And she had to make things right…before the prince ultimately destroyed Goldkrone, and everything in his way…
…Mytho…
“I wish…I wish to shatter the prince’s heart once more.”
End