This is actually so Shanti
The thing about Shanti is that she genuinely truly wants to die. She doesn’t picture herself growing old or dream of anything beyond the kingdom walls or even bothering to picture anything beyond the orders she’s been given. She has no passion for living at all, just a long brewing resentment towards her father and a crushing sense of obligation. Her father died, so she needs to fill his shoes, she needs to care and protect and fight and be very strong. She needs to never break, never waver. She needs to take all of his responsibilities while proving she isn’t him. He just ruined everything when he went and died. Now she’s the daughter of a traitor taking care of her broken family.
And I think the only way she can truly imagine that, the most final and definitive proof that she is not her father, would be to die honorable. A noble sacrifice to trade for the cowardly betrayal. If she died, like a true knight, in battle, fighting for her kingdom, following her orders and oath to protect the princess with her life, she’d finally be free. “I would die for my Queen” is a promise. It’s a promise and her atonement. She’ll die, she thinks it’s her bravery, her loyalty, her commitment, but the thought of it is more euphoric than anything. She’ll die with honor, an honorable death that makes everyone understand, protects everyone she needs to protect, proves what she needs to prove. She’s not him.
She's romanticizing her death so fucking much, maybe not consciously, but it shows in her words and actions and bleeds into everything she does and touches and loves. Maybe it comes in her dreams, she fights hard, with everything, and then she’s dying. Her mentor tells her she was strong to the end, a true knight with unquestionable loyalty to her oath. The Queen tells her she’s nothing like her father, she was a true hero, her sacrifice will never be forgotten. Was not in vain. And Naomi is safe. This Naomi, this imposter Shanti has created in her head, she doesn’t cry when Shanti dies. Shanti doesnt want to think about that. Her loved ones will cry and miss her and lose another special person. So this Naomi, this figment of her imagination, just tells her she loves her and she did a wonderful job. She promises Shanti’s family will be protected by the crown, they’ll be fine, and she can go without regrets. Having no regrets is a lie, her family moving on is a lie, but in her twisted head she wants to believe it’s that simple. So she can close her eyes and rest for the first time since she was a little girl and she cried and cried and cried because her father was dead and she was just a little girl and she needed him. And now, his name, his face, his terrible betrayal branded into her family name, can be buried alongside her. And no one will ever utter the name “Hero Heart” again. Heroic is dead. Pride Heart is dead. Shanti is dead. It’s all over.
She’s so selfish. You can’t protect or prove anything if you’re dead. You’re just tired, so so so very tired of everything, the weight of all the responsibilities and obligations and promises and pain. You’re tired and you refuse to rest, and so you want to make everyone who loves you suffer with some sick fantasy in your head of how much better off they’d be without you. You’re the selfish one, “just like him”. You are just like him, Shanti.
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