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“I promised Miorine victory on her birthday!”
Suletta Mercury, pilot extraordinaire, once again had Guel Jeturk on the ropes. Aeriel rose up above the mutilated Darilblade, hovering almost daintily, a graceful phantom of power and death bringing its full might to bear.
The phone in Miorine’s hand hummed and buzzed, the blank screen coming to life.
“I promised to forever remain at her side, and now I’ll ask her to promise the same.”
The banner text was white on purple, in the usual pleasing, businesslike font of her communiques. Miorine noted the words “Remote Control System”, above an image of two figures facing each other. She could almost feel Prospera’s smirk at having chosen that particular symbol to represent what she was about to do.
“We’ll buy rings together, and wear the most beautiful dresses to our wedding!”
Miorine’s grip on her phone tightened, her hand trembling. The cool, solid edges dug furrows into her skin. Her fingers felt heavy, leaden, inert.
“So please, Miorine … choose me!”
For a brief moment that lasted a lifetime, Miorine considered it.
She thought about the dresses. Though if she were being honest with herself, Miorine had been picturing Suletta in a tuxedo, perhaps a nice three-piece with a black jacket and trousers and a white blouse. Obviously, Miorine would have to help Suletta tie the bow tie, a garment that she would likely have never encountered before in her life. Miorine wondered exactly what teasing little barb she’d deploy as she tutted and looked up at her groom, wrinkling her nose while she tried to hide the broad grin that’d no doubt struggle to spread across her face, on a wedding day that would be much happier than she’d ever let herself believe.
Suletta would look wonderful in a dress, too, wouldn’t she? It’d have to be black, still, a good signifier of who was the bride and who the groom, which Suletta likely wouldn’t mind. Miorine had only seen her in a dress once, at the incubation party, and she’d looked adorable. She wanted Suletta to look regal for their wedding, though, as regal as she looked on the battlefield. Perhaps a flowing, strapless affair, almost a gown, something that would show off those magnificent shoulders. What if Suletta grew her hair out? Long, draped across a shoulder … Miorine could almost picture it. Her groom would be the very model of elegance, until, of course, she took a single step and revealed herself as the clumsy clod she knew and love–
“Please Tap”. The words shimmered, blurred, hazy now through a layer of moisture.
What a wedding it would be, Miorine thought bitterly. They’d laugh and dance and twirl about, looking at each other like they were the only two people in the world … until Miorine felt a hand placed on her shoulder and turned around to see her, probably still wearing that blasted mask and suit, smiling, always smiling so sweetly.
“Congratulations,” Prospera would say, tittering in that way she always did, that way that drove you completely mad. “I hope she serves you as well as she did me.”
Suletta, her groom. Suletta, her shield. Suletta, her brave, strong, mighty knight, beside whom she felt so completely safe, in a way she hadn’t for so long.
Was Suletta safe with her?
Prospera would happily give her Suletta, and the little leash that curled around her throat would enclose Miorine too.
In all honesty, she could live with that. She had always been a tool in someone else’s scheme.
Yet it was not a fate she could bear for Suletta. Dear Suletta could be free. She could live a life away from Miorine, away from Prospera and Delling and the Benerit Group and Quiet Zero and all the rest of the wretched lot.
If Miorine married Suletta, she would be happy, but she knew that she would just be choosing herself. So Miorine did as she was asked, instead.
Miorine chose Suletta.
She tapped the screen. The two figures in the image frowned.
“Completed”.
For the sake of the woman she loved so much, loved more than her own selfish happiness, Miorine ripped away everything Suletta thought she wanted. As she pushed off the wall with a deep, shuddering breath, preparing herself to confront Suletta and seal their fate, the images of the two of them in beautiful gowns, dancing together, still lingered in her mind.
Suletta would find a better bride, Miorine thought. One that actually deserved her.