Hey guys :) Here is some drabble!fic for the super obscure musical Metaphasia. I have this headcanon that Devilla and Heirabella are twins, and Devilla, along with her mind contol powers, can cast glamours on herself. So yeah. This is a drabble of what might have happened... Enjoy!
We were fifteen.
It was our first official outside ball, Heirabella and I, in some far off land whose name I can barely remember. I do remember Jorgen, however. That beautiful boy, the heir to his kingdom's throne, with his golden blonde hair and beautiful smile.
Bella and I both saw him at once.
I am jealous. I am possessive. I was infatuated. He would be mine.
I drew Bella away, with some coercing, but away from the prince. I spoke the words, the ancient magic, and I appeared as my fraternal twin. Approaching the prince as Bella, I was rude, brash, even violent. However, he was intensely kind despite that.
How could a man not hate such behavior?
I am desperate. I am cruel.
There was whitelock in my handbag. A poison, deadly. Still as my twin, I slipped into the prince's goblet. To my own self I returned.
A toast was raised. Before the prince could down his drink, I, a savior, flung the goblet away from him, proclaiming that I had seen a girl poison his drink.
I am nervous. I cannot betray my twin.
The rest is a blur. Heirabella, being pointed at by some other. My royal twin, dragged away by guards. I cannot see her, I cannot find her, I can only hear her, screaming screaming SCREAMING, my parents roaring at the king to bring her, bring her back.
The one who blamed recants his accusation. The drink is discarded, the charges disputed, the matter resolved. How, I did not care to know.
That is when I begin to cry.
I am cruel. CRUEL. I cannot even face the prince as we leave.
They will never know it was me. My parents do not, Bella does not. And they must never know. I am trapped in this cycle of wicked magic I cannot control.
Reviews are appreciated!