Chapter 1.10: Perfect Victim

Chapter 1.10: Perfect Victim

Trigger Warning: Self Harm (intentional)

Leila began to unbutton her dress as she walked to her bedroom. Now that the bastard finally agreed to leave her alone, she let her emotions run free. It took everything in her not to punch a wall. She suddenly wanted to worry for her only when she accepted his rejection. The teenager let her undergarments come free as she entered the empty room. Jisu thankfully wasn't there as she closed the door behind her.

The dress fell to the ground as she stepped out of it. She was pissed off as she looked in the mirror. The room was beautiful with all its furniture being worth millions. The mirror was the same, showing her body from three different angles. This let her see what had healed and what was still recovering from her imprisonment. The guards had torn into her, she would never fully be okay from that time.

But she could use it to her advantage.

With a tense, unstable grin she smiled and bent down. Below her sat a dressing table containing some items. Powders for her face, lip paints, hair pins, and more. She looked through the drawer with her gaze darkening by the minute. Finally, she found what she needed and set it in her palm. With a hilt that had Cleo's name carved into its bottom, sat a knife.

'This looks sharp enough,' She hummed as she held out her arm and put it to her skin. 'Just have to be careful not to cut too deeply.'

Leila would have never done something so drastic in the real world. But she had to make this family believe wholeheartedly she was disturbed. They had to think the prince had tainted her soul. Her hold on the blade was unsteady as she silently willed her mind to calm itself.

She had to do this, she had to be strong in the den of lions she was in. The blade was pressed on her skin until it broke. Blood came forth and began to gather in large amounts. Slowly, some dropped her arm and fell onto the dresser. She was shaking from how much it hurt.

With a wince, she took the blade away and put it back in the drawer it came from. It was painful but not as painful as her beatings had been. Plus, she had no other choice in the matter. This was something she had to do to survive this hell. Still, she felt a wave of shame overcome her as she bled.

Leila wanted to say she didn't care about the implications the action left. But she knew she did or else she wouldn't have hesitated. It was a necessary sacrifice to achieve her goals even if it was wrong.

The cut would be found with her bath for the night. This way, the servants would gossip once more about her declining mental state. And her parents would dote over her and ask what happened. She'd let it slip that she was upset about her brother and they'd go straight to berating him. The plan was perfect but she felt nothing.

Her face was emotionless as she watched her arm tremble from pain. The cut burned and she teared up from the sensation it left. A part of her wanted to say she was going too far but it was shut down.

'I'm not going far enough.' Leila looked down and brought her hands to her head. She was beginning to get a migraine from all this thinking.

Quickly, she steadied herself and went to her closet to get a dress on. The one she had been wearing was more for the outside than leisure. The skirts were so heavy she could barely walk, much less run in them. She had to admit the historical inaccuracies in this world allowed her a large choice of clothing. If this were truly ancient times she could only shudder at the outfits she'd wear. Instead, there were plenty of pieces she'd imagine buying in the present day.

One was hanging near the back of the closet behind some nightgowns. A soft blue dress that resembled a robe was grabbed and observed. It would be perfect for the draft library. Plus she wouldn't be scolded for her unladylike fashion by the older maids. They wore period-appropriate uniforms and made their opinions on her appearance known. Normally, she would start thinking of insults to curse at them with. But she was still woozy from her cut.

It bled heavily as she took the dress off its hanger and pulled it over her head. Her right sleeve was wet with blood as she adjusted everything. The material felt like heaven, with a faint scent of fabric softener tickling her nose. She reminded herself to give Jisu a genuine smile today as a thank you for consistently doing her laundry. If the woman wasn't so loyal to Cleo's entire family she'd actually like her.

"Now," She glanced at her door excitedly. It was finally time to make progress on destroying the royal family. "The library."

For weeks she had been spending time there. For thirty minutes a day, she would read books about poison. She was shocked by how many types existed in this world. She took notes on the severity of some and the probability of being attacked by others.

The family was fine with this besides her fake brother. But today she wasn't only going to read about poison. She had something more important to read up on that she had been putting to the side.

Leila made her to the library while making sure no servant was in sight. Thankfully the hallway was empty save for her heavy footsteps echoing behind her. She didn't want anyone to bother her today. She'd have to devote all her energy to the books she managed to find on the subject.

The door was closed when she approached it but unlocked as she twisted the doorknob. She pushed the door open and was met with cool air. The smell of books hit her and she was reminded of home.

Shelves holding hundreds of books towered over and she stood still in wonder. No amount of time would take away the amazement she felt being here. It was like she was in a gothic fairy tale, the room had an aura of great power that enchanted her. Her hair flowed behind her as she walked. The bookshelves were labeled by what genre they contained. She had been reading about the history of poison last time. Today that would be put aside for a book that was deep within the library's walls.

Hidden from plain sight, stood books on the subject of magic. This world had five types she had read about briefly in the novel's entirety. The author had gotten creative and made the based on colors. The teenager walked further and further into the room as she recalled them. Someone who used dark red magic would have control over the blood of others. If you had turquoise magic that had hints of lime you could manipulate plant life. These two were the most common magic types Cleo encountered.

One she had only seen once was silver magic that reminded the dead woman of moonlight. It controlled powerful light that healed the wounded. Those who had this ability were called Saintess as it only developed in young women. And the magic that only developed in young men was gray like the blade of a sword. This shielded one's emotions from manipulation and sensed others. A man with gray magic could easily control a woman emotionally.

Leila's gaze darkened and her stomach twisted with disgust. This was the magic the king had. He famously used it to bewitch the queen from her betrothed and impregnate her. Just thinking about such power made her sick. Only one other ability was able to match its strength and it was the one she desperately needed to grow. Cleo's family weren't just assassins who happened to be attractive.

No, something more wicked powered them that only the audience knew. A magic existed that was so potent it eroded its user's mind. All magic had a price and eventually, you had to pay it. The price this magic desired was something that scared her. Taking the color of dark purple, the fifth magic was considered to be truly lost. Any sex could wield it but may refuse to. It opened up a new side of its users that no one could control or even try to withstand.

The teenager reached the bookshelf she was looking for with hesitancy. This magic was inside the body she inhabited waiting to be awakened. But she knew the possibility of going mad using it was high. Like a poisonous kiss, the ability to seduce someone's mind waited for her. Unlike gray magic, this wasn't based on feeling emotions. Like a puzzle, purple magic took chunks out of you and misplaced them.

The author had aborted an arc where Cleo would discover she had magic. Instead, he had written in an author's note that it didn't matter. Cleo was strong enough without knowing her true nature. Leila scowled at the memory and took a large, dusty book into her hands. Not knowing her true power allowed Cleo to be beheaded that day. She wouldn't allow the same to happen to her.