Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Don't you feel guilt?"

Patricia stops what she's doing to turn and stare at her partner, Shiyi. Though she'd consider herself an expert at dealing with the woman's blunt mannerisms, this particular question threw her off guard. It was generally agreed, throughtout the whole manor, not to ask about people's lives before the games. And it wasn't that the two weren't close (though they'd only been dating for three months, and aquainted for a year.) It just... was unexpected. But she could deal with it.

She decided to play stupid. Shiyi's question had almost felt like an accusation, and she didn't want to answer.

"Guilty for what?"

Shiyi glowered at her for a second, before composing herself quickly.

"For what you did to all those people. Your game. Your methods of 'salvation.' Don't you ever doubt your path?"

That was a complex question, with a complex answer. Patricia wondered fleetingly how honest she should be. She loved her partner, no doubt, but some secrets were meant to be taken to the grave. Instead of answering, she got up, and moved to her lover's side. The latter leant in and she wrapped her arms around her slowly. They sat still for a while, while the enchantress mulled her answer over.

To be completely honest, she didn't regret what she did. Humanity was tainted with flaws, some curable and some not, and she had known for a long time it'd be up to her to save them. It was the path her God had laid out for her, and who was she to question their wants? It was a virtuous task, and she took pride in knowing it meant her God trusted her with such an important task. She believed- she knew that she was doing the right thing.

This didn't mean she could sleep easy at night. When she closed her eyes, she could see the look of fear on her prey's face, smell the blood on her hands, taste it in her mouth. Metallic and bitter. The hunt was never easy, and never kind. Sometimes, when she looked in the mirror, she couldn't tell who was looking back.

She regretted some of what happened in her game more than others.

The attention from the Cowboy was unwanted, and cause for more annoyance than help. For some, she was sure it would have been desired. Conventionally, he was an attractive, forthgoing man, more than capable of protecting her and keeping her company. But her plan didn't leave room for a partner, especially one with such an opposite moral stance, and she'd never asked for his protection. When he drank the poison to save her, she'd been glad to be rid of him, one step further to victory.

(If she'd shed a tear or two when alone, that was nobody's business except her.)

The Painter had been a sinner, just like everyone else on those hunting grounds. She'd seen the things he'd done, in days long past, and born witness first-hand to some of his more negative qualities. When she first entered the manor, she'd quickly grown to despise him, avoiding his presence whenever possible. He never directly spoke against her, and didn't speak as negatively of her as the others he associated with, but she was slow to trust anything that came from his mouth.

But, when she'd gone to purify his sins, he'd accepted the punishment readily. It surprised her. She had expected a fight, approaching him with caution, and a dagger in her boot. His compliance had been unexpected, and in doing so, an odd sort of understanding had grown between them. The blood that had flown from his body was a pretty sight, red rivers of repentance. As he died, he'd whispered his real name to her - most of them simply went by their title. She had almost spared him. Almost.

The Perfumer, and the First Officer, had been sinners in similar ways, though she disliked the latter more. The Perfumer regretted her actions, so Patricia was more inclined towards her. But her regret was centered around self-pity, and the enchantress was loathe to give her the validation she so wanted. She was so self-centered, even in a time of tragedy, that it was almost laughable.

Similarly, the First Officer felt regret, for the actions of his father, and how they came to reflect upon him. His fall from grace, as Patricia surmised, had been unglamorous, and she was sure any money not spent on housing went straight to the bar. He would've been just as bad as the Perfumer, if not for his attempts to hypnotise the other participants. She hadn't known whether to be offended that he hadn't tried it on her. Now, when she thought of him, she only felt disgust.

"...Patricia?"

She flinched, reflexitively preparing for a fight, only to see it was her lover before her.

"Sorry. You had that far-away look in your eyes you always get when you're thinking, and I didn't want to disturb you. But your grip on my hand started to hurt."

Patricia let go immediately.

She smiled apologetically, moving the offending hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind Shiyi's ear. The woman moved to push her away, but instead, the enchantress pulled her in for a chaste kiss. Her lover sighed, but didn't complain further.

Pulling back, she saw the slightest hint of rosy red on the antiquarian's cheeks. Shiyi was composed, and smart, most of the time, but to Patricia she was also safety, and unwavering love.

Would she still love her if she knew the full extent of what she'd done?

Leaning in for another kiss, Patricia hoped she'd never learn the answer.