|10.1| From Beauty To Beast.

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A blaze of fire scorched Stella's heart, and her gut wrenched into a million loops. She turned away from the mirror, fearing if she gazed at her face for too long, she would lose her mind.

"Calm down, Stella," she told herself, hoping to avoid a panic attack. "One... Two... Three... Four..."

Her stomach grumbled, and bile rose from her throat. Blocking her mouth with her hand, she rushed over to a flower vase and puked in it. Bits remained in her throat. She forced two fingers in her mouth and vomited even more. After that, she rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand and then burped, feeling better than before.

She reached for her chest and placed her palm over her heart. Now breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. She walked to the mirror again. This time she was prepared to look at herself. Why did she do this to me?

Tears fell down her face.

She sniffled.

What did I do to deserve this? I've been nothing but kind and giving. So, why me?

Her chest burned from sadness, and her mouth soured. It felt like someone had gripped her throat, and she couldn't swallow her bitter saliva.

Will they desire me the same? She thought of the men who worshiped her. They went to impressive lengths to capture her attention. But now... What about now?

No one would ever look at her the same, entertain her the same; she fathomed that. Her life was over the moment she had walked in that bathroom. Why had she done it? She could have stayed outside with the guests and guards.

But...

More tears ran down her face.

She didn't bother stroking them off.

She was hideous and pathetic.

No one will ever love me looking this.

She couldn't picture living in Virtue City anymore. People would feel sympathetic for her, apologize to her, and tell her everything would be all right. It was a lie.

She moved closer to the mirror and got a proper look at the scars.

It doesn't seem to be terrible.

She was never hardheaded. But at that moment, she had to be, or else the truth would have wrecked her. When Stella thought about hitting her prime, she had imagined being blindingly beautiful. Not... Not this.

I'm hideous.

Her fingers caressed her face and stopped at the deepest scar. It was broad and long. It started from her left temple, cutting down her eyes, nose, and lips, and ending on the right side of her chin.

"I'm a monster," she muttered, then sniffled. "I would rather take my life than allow people to see me like this."

"No," her reflection said.

"I will do it." Stella stamped her feet.

"Not until we catch that freckled fucko and annihilate her."

There was a knock on the door.

Stella sniffled. "Who is it?" She hoped it wasn't her mother.

"It's me, hun," Lady Camilla replied from outside. "Can I come in?"

"What does this fucko want?" her reflection asked.

Stella looked back at her reflection and placed a finger on her lips, shushing it. She contemplated if she should let in her mother. But she realized there was no point in saying no. Her mother would permit herself.

She sighed, then answered, "Come in."

The door opened, and Lady Camilla walked in. She glanced at Stella for a second then looked away, closing the door behind her. "The nurses said you threatened to hang them if they didn't release you. Since when do you threaten people?"

"Since we overheard them laughing at us from outside my room. Those fuckos are lucky we didn't slay them."

"That's correct," Stella said with a nod.

"Who are you talking to, hun?" Lady Camilla asked.

"No one." Stella didn't want her to know about Ora. Not yet. Her mother would think she was delirious. "I needed to leave, and they had refused to permit me. Threatening them was the only option."

"It was the best option," Ora added.

Even though Stella didn't state it, her mother's reaction devastated her after glimpsing at her face. She sought her mother's support now more than ever. But Lady Camilla was looking anywhere but at her face. Sharp daggers pierced her heart.

"If she weren't Mommy, we would slay her," Ora claimed.

Indeed. Stella smiled.

Lady Camilla was staring at the brown teddy bear on the bed. She had given it to Stella as a present for winning the beauty pageant when she was twelve. Her mother had looked youthful, proud, and happy back then. At present, she was unrecognizable with the black rings under her eyes and creases on her face.

"How are you feeling?" Lady Camilla asked without looking at her.

"Like death," Stella replied. "I'm hideous."

Lady Camilla sighed, then rubbed her face. "You're not hideous, Stella. You're disfigured. There's a difference."

Stella clenched her hands into fists. "Then why won't you look at me?" Her eyes welled up, but she blinked the tears away.

"I... I can't." She sighed, then put her hands on her waist and lowered her head. "I want to. But I can't."

"Why not?" Stella clenched her jaw.

"Because... your face frightens me." She groaned, then turned to Stella. Her eyes were blood-red, and her nose flared. "Are you delighted? Is that what you desired to hear? Do you feel better now knowing your mother is afraid of you?"

"Maybe we should slay her," Ora said

Stella ignored Ora and focused on her mother. "Why is it always about you, mother? When will it be about me?"

"When will it be about you?" Lady Camilla snorted. "It's always been about you, you ungrateful brat. It's best if it is about me from now on. OK?" She crossed her arms, then sat on the bed.

"Slay her!" Ora screamed.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Room," Stella said with clenched teeth. "Now."

Lady Camilla scoffed. "This is my home. Therefore," she waggled her arms, "this is my room."

"Fine, I'll leave." Stella stood.

Lady Camilla went to her daughter, standing a foot away from her. "Where will you go with that face?" she said with such malice; it was like she was talking to an enemy and not her daughter.

"Why are you a bitch, mother!"

Lady Camilla gasped, then slapped her daughter. Stella cried out in pain, her hands on her face. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Hun, I'm sorry." Lady Camilla tried grasping her daughter's arms. Stella pulled away and sat on the bed. She started crying.

Why is she like this? Stella rubbed off her tears and sniffled.

"Let me slay her! Let me slay her!" Ora screamed.

Lady Camilla sat beside Stella. "I apologize," she said. "I'm lashing out at you, and you don't deserve it." She buried her face in her hands and sighed. "The Founding Families allowed me forty-eight hours to reacquire the wings."

It wasn't the first time her mother had slapped her. Since her father died, her mother had anger issues. When she wasn't taking it out on the servants, she was lashing out at her daughter.

Stella looked at Lady Camilla. The woman stared at her. "Wings?" The last time her mother brought them up; a man from Techno City had bought them. "What happened to the wings?"

"They were stolen."

Stella gasped. "By whom?"

"A thief. Who else?" Lady Camilla sounded frustrated.

"Was it why everyone was outside?"

Lady Camilla nodded.

"Did anyone see who it was?"

"He wore a mask. But he won't hide from me for long. Few dark-skinned men possess snow-white hair in this world."

White hair? She gasped, having encountered a white-haired man at the auction. He wasn't an adventurer after all. "How will you catch him? Do you know where he's from?"

"No, but don't worry. The thief won't hide for long." Lady Camilla smiled. She always looked cheerful when she thought of hurting people. All the years of working with cold-hearted aristocrats had influenced her. "John's in my custody."

"The guard?" She saw John around a few times. He was a man from Sin City who got a chance at the high life. She had never thought more of him. There had been a few people from Sin City who had worked in her home over the years. It was nothing unusual. "What did he do?"

"He hired the auction's servants. And the woman who ki... who tried to kill you was one of them. If we can find her, we can catch the thief."

"You believe they worked together?"

"Indeed." Lady Camilla nodded.

"Inquire about John's whereabouts," Ora said.

"Where is he... John?" Stella asked.

"In the basement. Why?" Lady Camilla arched a brow.

"I want to ask him about the woman who tried to kill me."

"If he informs you, what will you do?"

"Slay her," Ora said.

Stella smiled. "Get revenge, what else?"

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