The bronze frame glowed from the dim light the candles provided. The room flickered with long lost hopes and shadows. There stood a white woman staring through the frame at another woman as if in a trance. They faced each other in resignation. The white woman looked at the revolting face staring back at her. It was time that this was done...
They would come today. To make the arrest. I felt hysterical laughter bubbling up inside me as our age old butler informed me of the news.

My laughter spilled through my lips, shocking everyone in my immediate vicinity, but I couldn't hold it back. It seemed that my life had taken a turn too soon and I was cursed to follow this path until death. I couldn't believe any of this- the arrest, the trial, the possible hanging. Could this really be what my future had in store?
I wiped the mirthful tears from my eyes and brushed back my golden locks to see my butler studying me anxiously. I must have appeared mad. God knew that was how I felt.

'Are you quite all right, miss?' Mr. Boyd asked me.

I was unable to answer as a fresh round of laughter erupted from my mouth. My mind was still reeling. A possible hanging? Death it seems was not too far off. Mr. Boyd was continuing to study me with a mixture of horror and concern. He had been working for our family since he was a boy. He had seen me as a young girl and now, as an accomplished young woman. 'Quite,' I managed to choke out.

He nodded, and I saw a glimpse of the man beneath the facade. I saw a tint of revulsion. 'The palace guards will make the arrest before noon.'

My laughter gurgled in my throat. 'Oh, dear. Before luncheon, you say? Whatever shall I eat then?'

Boyd did not reply, merely giving a noncommittal shrug. He was indiscreetly eyeing the door, waiting for me to grant him leave.
He feared me.
I surveyed the other servants moving about my bed chamber. They were all pointedly avoiding my gaze. This was not like before. They no longer saw me with grudging respect, but with downright terror.

The laughter died in my throat. My own household feared me now that I had finally done the deed no one dared do. I was being held prisoner by my own indiscretions. They knew what I was capable of. I would never be misjudged again. Once the arrest was made they would feel relief. The blame will be taken and they would all pretend nothing ever happened. It was their way.

My eyes narrowed, burning a deep ugly blue. 'Get out,' I told him. He obeyed only too happily. Several servants remained tidying up the dying roses, clearing the stone floor. 'Get out!' I shrieked to the rest of them. They all fled.

I couldn't suppress a bittersweet smile. It crept onto my mouth, and spread slowly into a radiant shine. I leaned against my grand bed frame. The ruby red sheets lay beneath me, but I did not lie down. I kept my feet firmly on the ground. The wisps of veiled curtains billowed around me. The wind was strong today, pushing through the castle walls into my childhood home. I laid a hand on the cool stones that made up the walls.

Turning slightly, I gazed longingly out my open window to the Prince's citadel. In the morning light it looked more dreamlike than it was rumoured to be. I had attended many a ball there, but no longer would it be a merry place. The prince was now lying at his citadel, awaiting his royal funeral. While I waited to celebrate his death, many sat distraught and pitifully saddened.

I leaned away from my bed and stood up. Slowly, I made my way into the corridor outside my room. The icy floor was smooth beneath my feet. I left my bed, my room behind, and followed along the sunless corridor to the grand staircase. I descended, aware of the silken quiet. My servants knew better than to disturb me, especially now. I passed the large hall to the dimly lit drawing room.

I saw the bronze frame in my mind's eye before I even entered the room. She was there, waiting, as expected. She walked towards the frame as I glided towards her. I could not see the room at her back, but then, I never could. Dark shadows danced around the room in the feeble light. I held my head high as I approached my greatest rival. The woman did not back away.

She would be at the arrest. We would both watch the palace guards aim their weapons and take away the treasonous person. We had been there on the night of the murder. We knew who they would come for, and we would watch as they took the wrong person captive. The woman who committed the hateful crime would be allowed to roam free. The other wouldn't be so lucky. We knew at what cost this would happen. It didn't concern me. She was on her own. I let a triumphant gleam enter my eyes. She stared back with unwavering intensity.
She was obscenely ugly and it was difficult to determine the colour of her eyes. They were a greeney, bluey black lit with the fiery glare of the candles. A pool of dark sad emotions the same colour as my own. I looked down at the snowy cross clutched in the woman's hand. My eyes shifted to the withered one that hung loosely between my long slim fingers. We were the same, but different. She was hated and shunned out of fear. I was loved and feared to be shunned.
Sinewy and light, a delicate cloth of white adorned my slender frame, sheathing me in its glorious lengths. My feet were bare. I wore no jewellery. I didn't need any. My head snapped up to the stocky woman who gave me a levelled look. Her clothes were in every shade of brown. Her trousers struggled to cover her stubby legs. My inspection led me down to her large feet which jutted out from her legs in an unsightly manner. She wore white satin slippers. They were elegant and beautiful, everything she was not. A hideous smile took to my dulcet lips.
There was a rumble from somewhere behind her. I tried to look past, but she moved with me. The blood rushed between my toes, staining my gown and filling the room in which I stood. I gasped in horror staring at my ruined gown. She stared at her own with growing amazement. Her clothes were still a hideous shade of brown, but her slippers remained as they were. Soft, white and pure. I met her eyes once more. They were no longer a mix of colours but the purest black. My own were dark with pity. She smiled a small sad smile.
I killed a man. She confessed.