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The crown for the puppet

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Sitting down, she waited in silence, just as the two individuals with large and rough hands had ordered her, dragging her to the section with unnecessary forcé due her slowness, with her eyes fixed on the floor, barely distinguishable from the shadows but if she tried enough could perceive the color of the long carpet with golden edges. Red as the simple dress that covered her thin and almost ethereal body or leather boots, she waited without being totally sure what.

She was not able to specify the time elapsed until the sound of the door being opened forced her to look up, slightly startled by the novelty. It was not pleasant the luminosity that the lamp, with various bronze arms that held the burning candles, above her head in the middle of the high ceiling offered until her sensitive eyes got used to it. Before her narrowed eyes, greenish blue irises like sea water, a man entered. As the girl could clearly identify the figure standing a few meters away from her, the state of surprise quickly turned to fear. Swallowing saliva, she watched him aware of her fate. That was not a normal soldier, it was not only an appreciable fact in the colors and patterns of his clothes, there was something in his distant and clear eyes like the sky above the mist that seemed to surround the city that indicated it or was the atypically white tone of his skin, not only that under excessive makeup, noticeable in the few areas of his body exposed. Whatever it was, there was in front of her surrounding them once the door from the outside was closed.

"Terra, my sweet little witch... "  Terra heard him say her name and immediately a strong shudder struck her. His disturbingly soft and subtly sharp but melodious voice approached that of a loving mother, nothing that matched her image. She used to imagine her as excessive and cruel as his actions. In addition, the smile that accompanied him was especially creepy, probably thanks to the prolongation of his crimson lips by tracing a red curve from the corners to the cheeks or perhaps because of the force with which his fine eyebrows had frowned. "I have a very special thing for you. You want to know why?" He continued talking, calmly, as if tasting every word while the blonde held her breath, not moving, more and more paralyzed by terror. Only with her eyes fixed on him, who delighted to be her center of attention, revealed after his extensive and garnet velvet layer a medium box of a material that seemed too smooth to be wood. "Because thanks to this sophisticated accessory, you will belong to me!" He announced prior escape from a laugh that threatened to become an unpleasant crackle.

In spite of the beauty of the object that the wicked man had already taken out of the box with one hand while with the other he hid the box that had contained it for a long time waiting for its placement, it was not a harmless ciara as its appearance intended to make believe. The mere idea not only of belonging to someone but of that someone not provoking her more than panic, horrified her so much that she began to scream, waving in her chair. Noisy noises and the occasional plea sprouted from her pink lips resembling beautiful melodies performed by gifted music divas for Kefka who instead of feeling offended by such a reaction, grabbing her with one hand insisted on accepting her destiny.

"Yes, yes, my dear, you will be!" He was raising his voice, more and more lively, no one could deny that, not even her, that highly desired moment was a reality. Imposing himself to the blonde with perfect curls like those of the dolls, he was even able to break her arm right there with laughter, he didn't mind continuing to press the area of her small and slight body. She, noticing the discomfort, ended up giving up a feigned calm. After all, facing him was not an intelligent option, time and Palazzo himself would be in charge of reminding her. "You will be mine and only mine." He sentenced raising Terra's head, who was looking at him wrinkling her forehead with wet eyes and pursed lips, this time it could be perceive a certain threat tone even though his painted lips rested on her pale and warm skin, close, very close to those lips, coloring it.

It slid over her head until it was perfectly fitted, shining on her forehead whose curls slid overhead. He had been careful not to catch any during its position. Soon the girl would feel something worse than a headache as the golden circle began to work with the addition of the horrifying sound that seemed to gain sharpness or the feeling of heaviness in each part of her little body however small, because the dull pain that bothered her would not diminish until it caused an unexpected fainting, nothing after that would be pleasant either but her consciousness would have been completely annulled. She would never know for sure, but she immersed herself in hypotheses that somehow explained that reaction of her body, clearly against what the contraption intended as if the golden metal clung to her flesh and she conscious of the attack refused, because she vaguely remembered having suffered the painful intrusions of fine wires loaded with some kind of substance. Everything was possible coming from they that had never seen her as a human, rather as an element to study and use in their dark imperial purposes.