[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/T1j1GM3t/Headers-(820-x-1020-px).gif[/img]

[color=#758173][H1]Mina Blackwood[/H1][/color][/center]



[color=#758173]Time:[/color] Evening
[color=#758173]Location:[/color] Blackwood Rooms —> Starry Night Ball
[color=#758173]Attire:[/color] [url=https://i.postimg.cc/cLnjJxSC/file-00000000bef471f5ba6f42069bba5529.png]Dress & Hair[/url]
[color=#758173]Interaction:[/color] [@Oso] Ambrose [@HylianRose] Lucian [@princess] Marina & Edin
[color=#758173]Mentions:[/color]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/BCGMDwO.png[/img][/center]

The smell of the courtyard lingered in Mina’s throat, thick with resin, burnt hair, and something sharp and metallic that made her uneasy. No matter how much rosewater the maids used or how many layers of silk she wore, the taste of ash would not leave her.

As she sat before her vanity, the reflection staring back at her felt like a stranger. If King Edin was willing to reduce his own Queen to a collapsing silhouette of flame and cloth, what hope was there for a girl like her? A girl whose very blood was a crime in this land. She was a daughter of Varian, but here in Sorian, she felt like nothing more than dry tinder waiting for a spark.

A heavy hand settled on her shoulder, and Mina nearly jumped out of her skin.

[color=792A31] "Steady, Mina,"[/color] Sebastian Blackwood’s voice was low, devoid of its public joviality. His eyes in the mirror were bloodshot, his skin sallow. The "illness" was clawing at him again. [color=792A31] "You saw what happened today. The wardens are looking for shadows. From this moment on, you do not touch your gifts. Not a flicker. Not a whisper. We have been in this city for weeks, and we must survive several more. Edin’s law is absolute here."[/color]

Mina turned on her stool, her eyes wide with a mix of terror and weary defiance. [color=#758173]"I know the risks, Uncle. But how else am I supposed to keep you safe? How am I to cover the… the mistakes?"[/color]

She remembered the dead maid, the cold skin, and the hurried effort to hide what had happened. The room had smelled like a slaughterhouse, and she had forced herself to make it look ordinary again. Sebastian’s hunger was getting worse, and it was taking more from her each time to cover his tracks. The magic left her feeling empty and exhausted.

Her voice shook as she whispered, [color=#758173]"The changes in you... they frighten me."[/color] She reached out, her hand stopping just short of his sleeve. She thought of the man who had raised her after her mother died, the one who had always been steady and strong. Now, he seemed to be slipping away, replaced by someone she barely recognized.

[color=792A31] "Then be frightened enough to stay silent,"[/color] Sebastian snapped, his expression hardening into a flicker of the predator she had seen earlier that week. [color=792A31] "Now, finish. We have a performance to give."[/color]

As Sebastian turned to leave, the silence he left behind felt heavier than his words. Mina slumped against the vanity, her hands shaking so violently she had to grip the edge of the marble.

Guilt settled in her chest, heavy and unrelenting. Each time Sebastian gave in to his hunger, she felt it as if it were her own failure. She was supposed to be the one to fix him, the one who could restore their family. She had spent years searching old books and trying every spell she could find, hoping for a way to end this damned curse.

If only she were stronger, maybe he would not have to be this way. Mina wiped a tear from her cheek, feeling the powder smear beneath her fingers. She blamed herself for every mistake he made, certain it was her failure as a healer, as his protector, and as his niece. She loved him fiercely, but that love was turning into fear. Lately, she was not just afraid for him, but of him. Sometimes, the way he looked at her made her feel like an obstacle, and other times she was an obsession…a possession, and the chill it sent through her lingered long after.

She was drowning in the blood he spilled, yet she kept reaching out to pull him from the waves, even as he dragged her deeper into the black. It damned her beyond redeeming.

[hr]

The Grand Ballroom was a masterpiece of denial. The music surged, drowning out the memory of the morning’s screams, and the gold filigree glittered as if the sun had never set on a pyre.

"Count Sebastian Blackwood and the Lady Mina Blackwood of Varian!" the herald announced.

Mina stepped into the light, feeling gazes settle on her. Her midnight blue and gold gown was heavier than she expected, the silk close against her skin before it fell away in a long train. The neckline was lower than she expected, and the sleeves brushed her arms as she moved. Her heart beat quickly, and she tried to keep her face calm. She had golden roses added last minute in hopes that Lucian would take notice, a silent way of saying she accepted his new nickname for her. She aimed to be the “Rose of Varian” tonight.

She followed Sebastian toward the throne. They offered the deep, practiced bows required of visiting nobility—a perfect display of respect to King Edin, even when Mina’s true loyalty remained with the Camilias.

[color=792A31]"A stunning display of stability, your Majesty,"[/color] Sebastian remarked to Edin, his voice back to its booming, hearty mask.

Once the formalities were over, Mina slipped away as soon as she could. She needed a moment to herself, away from the King’s watchful eyes and her uncle’s constant presence. But even here, surrounded by so many people, it was impossible to be alone.

[color=pink]"Lady Mina! A word, if you please?"[/color] A middle-aged noblewoman, her fan fluttering like a trapped bird, intercepted her. [color=pink]"We were all so shocked by the news this morning. And your return to court these last few weeks... tell me, is it true that the climate in Kolonivka is simply dreadful for the complexion?"[/color]

It took everything in Mina not to roll her eyes at the woman. Such an underhanded jab, it was ridiculous. She forced a polite, brittle smile. [color=#758173]"The Varian winds can be quite brisk, Lady Elara, but our hospitality is unmatched."[/color]

[color=pink]"And your uncle? He looks a bit… peaked tonight. Is the family 'affliction' worsening?"[/color] The woman’s eyes were sharp, probing for a weakness, a scandal, a crack in the Blackwood armor. Two could play at this game.

[color=#758173]"My uncle’s health is as constant as the Blackwood name, I assure you. However, I have noticed that those who focus too intently on the shadows of others often find their own light beginning to dim. Do be careful, My Lady; the candlelight in this room is so very unforgiving to a worried face."[/color] Mina said, already beginning to step backward, satisfied at the horror on the woman’s face. [color=#758173]"Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I see a friend I must greet—"[/color]

She moved too quickly, eager to get away from the questions. Her heels clicked on the marble as she turned, not watching where she was going. Mina collided with a solid, unyielding form. The impact sent a jolt through her, and she gasped, spinning around with an apology already on her lips.

But the words wouldn’t come.

The air left the room. Standing before her, looking as though he’d been carved from the very duty and honor she had abandoned years ago, was...

[color=#758173]"Ambrose,"[/color] she breathed. The name felt like a sin on her tongue, a word she had no right to speak after the way she had dismantled him.

He stood with a terrifying, rigid stillness. The candlelight showed the hard line of his jaw. He looked older, not from years, but from the silence she had left between them and the loss of a beloved sister.

Mina’s hand flew to her chest, her fingers clutching the silk of her bodice as if she could physically hold her heart inside. Seeing him was a physical blow; it was a thousand memories of a stolen summer in Varian crashing into the reality of the girl who had looked him in the eye and lied until he bled.

She remembered the day she broke him. She remembered the precise way his face had crumpled when she told him she didn't love him, that he was a common distraction she had outgrown. It had been a mercy, she’d told herself then—just as it had been a mercy when she did the very same to Munir. She had methodically made herself the villain in both of their stories, tearing their hearts out with practiced cruelty so they wouldn't become victims in hers. She had to ensure they stayed far away from the rot of the Blackwood curse and the encroaching darkness of her uncle.

[color=#758173][i]I am a monster to you,[/i][/color] she thought, the realization stinging worse than the smoke of the morning's pyre. [color=#758173][i]And I have to stay that way.[/i][/color]

Even as her soul ached for the safety Ambrose once represented, she felt the traitorous shift of her own heart. It was a jagged, humiliating truth: even now, standing before the man she had destroyed, her eyes instinctively flickered past him for a split second, landing on the shock of auburn hair that belonged to Lucian. Her heart was a messy, divided thing—tethered to the ruins of her past with Ambrose and Munir, yet reaching, pathetic and unbidden, for a Prince who could never truly want a ruined thing like her.

Mina stepped back, her silver sleeves moving with her. She forced her face to become calm and distant, the way people expected her to be. [color=#758173]"I... I apologize,"[/color] she said, her voice thin and formal, every word a fresh glass shard in her throat. She didn't call him Sir Ambrose; she didn't think she could handle the weight of his title or his gaze. [color=#758173]"I wasn't looking where I was going. This crowd is... overwhelming."[/color]

She froze there, her breath coming in shallow hitches, her gaze locked onto the embroidery of his jacket because she was terrified that if she looked into his eyes, he would see the cracks. He would see that the girl who broke him was herself in pieces.

She stood on the precipice of a breakdown, caught in the gravity of the man she had sacrificed to the shadows, waiting for him to speak, and the man she truly longed for standing only a few feet away.