[Pandora Karsalia]

The stone bench was worn, smoothed over decades in the royal gardens. Roses perfumed the air around the Queen as she took this moment to catch her breath from the preparations. The garden always brought a certain kind of peace, to simply sit and look upon nature's beauty, relaxation from the cares of rule.

Not a moment too soon. I swear if I had stayed a second longer, I would have exploded.

Brushing a hand across a blooming flower, Pandora reflected on recent events. These times of quiet brought familiar thoughts to the Queen, lately, of her daughter's anguished soul....

With a sigh, Pandora looked to her surroundings, this garden that had been her mother's. Strange to think that the wicked queen had had a hand in the making of such a beautiful place. Blossoms of all colors spread across the rolling grass, fruit trees lined up in neat rows, bushes cut into ornate shapes dotted the area. This place was a refuge for her; somewhere she could sit, relax, and focus herself.

“Mother...?"

Startled, the Queen turned to see the very daughter who beseeched her mind. There, dressed in a light gown of red and black, stood Feysha. She looked so sickly under the sun.

"Feysha. What brings you to the gardens?" Still surprised at her child's sudden appearance, Pandora stood to face her daughter with open arms.

"I came to talk... That is, if you're not too busy?" said with great hesitation from the crowned princess.

Smiling, Pandora responded with nothing but kindness. "For you I will always have time, my Daughter."

[Feysha Karsalia]

She'd retreated to the garden again. Their stares, eyes following her everywhere, sympathy, empathy, all wasted. She did not deserve such things, her hands covered in red. Unbearable. She deserved this pain, she was but a murderer. Why couldn't they leave it to her? All their sadness, their pity, poor Feysha, once so bright, so happy, now reduced to a shadow. Spirit blackened, scarred, forever an open wound. How could they stand her presence? Did she not disgust them? Were they not afraid of her, of touching this blood stained canvas?

Her mother was there, just on the bench, by the roses she often visited. Feysha felt the need, the comfort, the love, and all there. She wanted so desperately to partake in them. The desire to mend, fix what she had broken so long ago.... Feysha took a trembling step towards the oblivious Queen.

"Mother...?"

She'd scared her. Of course she had. Who would not shirk from her, so covered in blood?

"Feysha. What brings you to the gardens?" How she longed to fall into that embrace, to hide from the crushing weight of her fate, but she couldn't burden her that way. Pandora carried the weight of a kingdom, why should she bear up Feysha's broken soul? She had to tell her mother how sorry she was, for being so broken, for the suffering she caused with her mere presence.

"I came to talk... That is, if you're not busy?" Pathetic. That's how she sounded, nothing like she used to be, but she had been whole then, had had a place, a meaning. Now all she had was the cold, a chill set so deep not even the hottest summer day could thaw the numb within her.

"For you, I will always have time, my Daughter."

She could not do this; it was too soon, the scars too fresh. With a muffled sob, she collapsed into Pandora's waiting arms, needing the love, warmth to melt away the ice inside.

"I'm sorry I am such a burden on you Mother. I do not wish to bring you sadness." How could I touch her? How dare I? Just a stain, a dishonor no one should have to bear.

"You are no such thing! Feysha, please, let me help you. I can't stand to see you in such suffering. You're not broken... only hurt, if you could but could see that." Her voice, so filled with warmth, so convincing. She wanted to let her in, to let her gather the shards of her soul in the safety of those arms....

[Pandora Karsalia]

Sliding to her knees, careful to be gentle, she held her daughter softly in her embrace. She hadn't expected it to come so fast. Feysha had such trouble giving in and accepting comfort. Smiling sadly, Pandora ran a hand through the short locks of her child, holding her through the shuddering, the tears.

Why can you not see? There is no hate, no monster for us to fear. If you would only let us help you... A burden you are not, my daughter. I can only love you, and hope that you learn to love yourself again. I cannot show you what you are unwilling to see.

There Pandora sat, flowing gown stained by grass, arms wrapped around the weeping bundle she held. There must be a way to heal these invisible wounds, before they bled the very life out of her only child. This holy night... surely some gentle god must be out there, willing to turn a kindly ear to her prayers....

Hours later, only the numbness in her legs reminded the Queen how long they had sat together. Feysha now rested quiet against her bosom, for once at ease with herself. Pandora could not help wondering, though, why no one had thought to disturb her yet. Moments like this were a treasure she rarely found. Perhaps she'd been heard, after all.