crack chapters

Pride

"Theseus, my dear, someone is here for you," Victor said, holding Thomas tightly in his grip. Thomas giggled, producing random noises that didn't quite form sentences yet. "The guards let her in instantly, so I thought it was someone you knew."

Theseus looked up. "Who?" She shouldn't be receiving any visitors, especially not now. Had she forgotten something?

"A woman with green eyes and curly brown hair, from what I saw." Victor set down Thomas so he could play with the set of wooden toys in the corner of the office.

Theseus took a sharp breath. No, it couldn't be. "What?"

Victor narrowed his eyes, turning his gaze towards her. "Hm?"

"Was she short?" Victor hummed and raised his arm to chest level. Theseus was only two inches taller than where he held his hand.

"This high. She had a red rose in her hair, I think."

The chair screeched as Theseus stood up and pushed it back. "You're a hundred percent sure?"

Victor's eyes widened. "Yeah?"

Theseus swiftly exited the office. Was it true? Surely it was a lie.

"This way, Your Highness," Elizabeth said. The wrinkles on her face deepened, stress evident in her expression. She extended her hand, pointing down the hallway.

Elizabeth picked up the hem of her dress, quickening her pace as they walked. Other maids looked shocked as Theseus and Elizabeth passed by side by side.

There it was. Elizabeth stopped, her eyes urging Theseus towards the door and then to the floor. Theseus looked down; the lock sign that had been on the door was torn down and thrown aside.

"Is it really?" Theseus asked. Elizabeth nodded.

"Tell Victor not to come in."

Elizabeth nodded again. Theseus's hand tightened on the dusty golden doorknob. Why did her chest suddenly feel so heavy? Why did it feel as though she couldn't breathe?

She swallowed whatever she was feeling, turned the knob, and pushed the door open.

It was her.

"Theseus."

"Mongolia."

Theseus tilted her head to the side before shivering and straightening her back.

"Hello."

Mongolia said nothing, only staring at Theseus, taking in her appearance. "You're different," she said with disgust. Was changing really that bad to her?

"So are you."

"That's what I was hoping to accomplish," Mongolia scoffed, her arms folded, her nose turned up snidely. Her hair was still curled, her skin still pale, the brown of her hair still the same caramel color. Despite her claims of wanting to change, she was still the same Mongolia Theseus remembered.

"Then you got what you wished." Theseus mimicked her posture, an old habit she hadn't yet shed.

"Sister," Theseus said. Mongolia clicked her tongue, tension filling the air—a common occurrence with Mongolia.

"Do not 'sister' me."

Ah, Theseus instantly knew what this was about.

"Do not be mad at me for carrying out our father's wish." At least one of them had the guts to do so, she thought. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, ready to be spoken, but her mouth refused to open.

"Be mad? You kill people. Why would I call such a monster my sister?" Mongolia hissed. "You've killed hundreds, and for what? The approval of our father?"