alma falls back a step, blinking as her sister’s words fly at her, “cosima, i don’t get why you’re so angry at me.” she had known much of what their mother had put her sister through was not fair, but the younger urgell had never intended to be anything special- her mother hadn’t raised her to be. and she was confused now as to why cosima was lashing out at her like this. it was the queen’s fault before anyone’s. alma had no say in what her fate was to be, “you can’t be mad at me when i did nothing wrong! i didn’t choose to be betrothed to mari,” though, if given the choice, she may have picked the japanese crown princess, she couldn’t deny her attraction to her, but, still, if she had chosen her it would’t have been for power reasons or to be a ruler. that was not the role alma was ever supposed to fall into, and she figure that was why their mother had pawned her off to japan, to give her to someone who was equipped to rule, to someone who would ensure that alma was far away from andorra. she shakes her head, “stop it!” she’s never spoken to cosima like this, but, then again, she’s never seen her sister like this. and it’s terrifying and she can feel her own anger and hurt rising as the other blonde continues. alma flinches as she holds her shoulders, “out of what, cosima? i have no say! what do you think i’m trying to do? you said i don’t have the capacity to understand. and, yeah, maybe i don’t! i’ve never wanted to be ruler of anything! you of all people should know that!” she hisses, stepping away from her sister’s grasp and tipping her chin up. she uses her defiance as a weapon, trying not to let her sister’s emotions evoke too many from her. though, she can feel tears welling up in her eyes as cosima bows to her and she knows her fake act of defiance is probably no use, she’s feeling sadness and something akin to guilt. obviously this whole situation has set something off in her sister and she doesn’t know how to handle it. she swallows, shaking her head again, “don’t. you know that’s not what i want.” she pauses, staring straight at the other, “all i have ever wanted was to see you succeed. to see all your work finally pay off. to see you finally get out from under mother’s thumb.” a single tear slips down her cheek as she gestures between them, “i don’t want this.” the words are only a whisper, “i don’t want you to hate me and i don’t want to rule anything. i just want the freedom to make my own choices. and your happiness. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.” she wets her lips with her tongue, “you have known me my whole life. you cannot really look at me now and think i would ever want to undermine all you’ve ever worked for? what kind of sister would that make me? what kind of person?”
“i no longer recognise you,” rasps cosima, as she fights the urge to do what she’s been doing her whole life - to pick up the broken pieces, glue them together & go on with her merry life, as if nothing terrible just happened. how come she never questioned herself? a better question - how come no one questioned her? how could they witness such a form of self-destruction, and live with the guilt? “where were you when i threw my life away? for you? for mother? you weren’t complaining .. then again, why would you? the sweet,comfortable life. without consequences. without responsibilities. you have all you need,” she scoffs, unable to suppress the negativity overflowing from her. “pardon me, you had. you had your own little robot, tweaked by the great queen herself, so that her little princess wouldn’t endure half of the shit i went through.” the blue hues would gleam with warmth upon a mention of her dear sister, heart growing fonder, to the point cosima thought it was impossible to love someone that much. the same unexplainable love that forced her to pick all of her battles is now the architect of her downfall. ironic, eh? dull oceanic eyes fixate on everything but her, knowing no matter what happens between them, cos cannot bare to see her cry. the clenched fists dig through her skin with such pain that they become the only contact with reality, knowing she’s destroying everything else, with every word that falls off her lips. it’s the truth in alma’s words that shakes the crown princess’ core, stripping her away from the possible reconciliation chance she has with their mother. oh, she wishes she was as strong as alma thinks she is - she really does. truth to be told, in that very second, there are two princesses, standing together, but only one of them ever showed the courage to stand up to the queen, however minor the problem was. “i can’t make mother cry, but you, that i can,” is the only logical explanation cosima can foster at the heat of the moment, desperate to defend her case. nothing she says would be enough - at least for cosima, if she were in alma’s position. it’s the ugly truth she, but mostly both, have to hear, as hurtful as it is. “i was going to kill him, alma.” her voice is flat, but in a whisper, hoping she wouldn’t be able to hear. “i would lay in bed beside him, for days. i would make him give everything and anything i, andorra needed. then i would lay in bed, beside him but only one of us would wake up, because that’s the princess mother raised.” her low breaths aren’t enough the fill the silence between; cosima’s gaze falls upon her hands ( lady macbeth foreshadowing at finest ), surprised how clean & soft they look, beside the fresh marks on her palms. “i can never be happy. she took it away from me, and you let her.”
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