Marietta had lived her entire life in fear. She was afraid of people- constantly blushing, stuttering, or even hiccuping when a stranger approached. She was afraid of swords- watching her cousins spar through her fingers as a child, and lecturing them if they left the other even slightly injured. And she was afraid of the dark- needing a burning candle lit in her room so that she could fall asleep.



She was always like that since she was a small child. The Antonis was brave, but she was not. It was a fact that never bothered Marietta. She didn’t feel shame of her cowardice, even if perhaps she should. Marietta had grown used to the fact that she was the way she was. She would never be a socialite like her sisters. She would never be a fighter like her cousins. She would never be brave like her father. Marietta was soft, she was meek, she was… fragile. And she had learned to live with that.



But then she finally broke.



Marietta would never regret throwing herself on top of Hebe. Had she not have done that her sister would have died. If it was enough to have put Marietta in a coma then surely it would have killed Hebe, who’s much tinier and more precious than Marietta. Yet it did not mean that the thought of ever being in the position to do that again didn’t paralyze Marietta. The memory of that awful night made her feel tightness in her chest and like she could not even breathe. She went from sleeping in a coma to constantly being kept up at night from her nightmares. Not once has Marietta touched her paints. Even if Marietta had the stamina to sit at her harp she wouldn’t do that either. Marietta was, for lack of a better term, a complete and utter mess.



She had made some progress. At first, she was not able to get out of bed at all. Slowly the healers helped her do that. Then she struggled to walk towards a chair in the middle of the room. The first time she did succeed she actually made it farther than the chair… she made it to Hector who was at her door. He gave her the strength she needed to walk. And she had to thank him. He didn’t just save her, she saved everyone. He was a hero.



It was when Marietta was able to walk without constantly needing the doctors holding her did trouble really begin. She had felt safe in her room, where guards were constantly at alert, her parents were a few doors down, and Hector was constantly around too. It was safe. And then not only was there an idea proposed of her leaving her room… but leaving the house? To go outside? Fresh air was good, the healers said. But… the thought of being outside made Marietta’s heart want to explode. The thought of leaving the home was… worse than any stranger, any sword, or darkness.



Marietta didn’t want to do it.



It didn’t help that Marietta just didn’t feel ready for anything yet. The girl was always adverse to touch, but now since then, she would outright cringe if someone placed a hand on her. She couldn’t sleep. And moving still hurt, even despite the drugs that she was on. And yet the healers still thought it right to encourage her to get some air? Why?



It took most of the morning before Marietta managed to get herself to leave her room. But she did not wander outside. She did not go to the gardens like was suggested. She instead went to the sitting room that connected to the gardens. She sat on the couch there since the morning, and never moved since then. She stared out the window. Occasionally she would think she was ready, that she would do it, but then the panic would sink in and her heart would squeeze and then she realized it was futile. She had thought about sending for someone, like Hector. He would protect her. Stelios would also be a good escort. Marietta may bicker with her cousin like he was her brother, and often times felt like he really was her brother, but despite what might cause judgment from him… he’d still protect her from the scary outside world. Mateos and Patros would do the same. They all would…



And yet… Marietta never called for them either. She just sat there, watching as Apollo started to dip across the sky and the gardens are tinted by the deep red-orange of the setting sun. Marietta only felt fear.