The Garden of Roses was a kaleidoscope of colors, reflecting the golden light of the setting sun in a beautiful array. The outside world had no idea about the secrets it was hiding in its ever-blooming bushes. The nobles drunkenly waltzing inside its thorny gates believed the garden to be nothing more than a beautiful plaything, for the emperor behind it, was fond of such things.

But the Garden of Roses hid a secret hideaway behind its luscious blooms, a place where the 6th Emperor conducted his private business. It was also the place where my future was decided, yet I would not go freely. I had a plan and a good one at that. From what I had observed in my previous observations of the 6th Emperor, he changed his mind frequently. If only I could convince him that I was surely not worth the investment.

My father had notified my sisters and me previously that I was to enter the Moss Sanctuary for my final condemnation, so after forcefully bidding Atlas goodbye and giving them vague directions to my castle, I headed toward the secret entrance. 

Now, normal commoners usually would have no idea where to even look for the door to a hidden room, but after years of poking and prodding rooms for secret doors, finding the entrance was child’s play. Most nobles, including the 6th Emperor himself, overcovered their doors and door switches, creating easy pickings for those of us with solid attention to detail. For this hideaway, all I had to do was sweep back the abnormally thick vines to reveal a gilded gold door. 

The door was locked, but the flimsy charm that held it shut had nothing on a skilled assassin such as myself. For this, I didn’t even need to draw blood. I stuck at my hand and grabbed the errant pink charm magic, laughing as its protective nature tried its hardest to keep me out. But, as always, the strongest won. I grabbed the translucent pink threads and shattered them with a clean break, watching as the shards of magic flew into the air and dissipated.

People often were unaware how strong I was. To most of the world, I was a sheltered princess, barely an adult yet still not trusted to make decisions for herself. For many commoners, my sisters and I were hot topics. Most either hated us or wanted to be us. 

Yet like many things, people’s lives are almost always more complicated than they seem. Mine, for example, was a life filled with blood and hunger, with my appearance and title acting as nothing more than an illusion of excess and extravagance.

I pushed the now unlocked door open, and it scraped against the wooden floor as it moved, hurting my ears - ones forever used to silence. The room beyond the door was austere and gloomy, unlike the flashy and colorful rooms of the main palace. In a way, this truly reflected the 6th Emperor’s taste, as these were his private rooms. The walls were painted a dark bluish-grey, which reminded me of summer storms on the northern East Coast, gloomy events that caused nothing but trouble for the commoners living there. 

After glancing at the situation inside and deeming it safe, I carefully stepped through the gilded doorframe and into the 6th’s Moss Sanctuary. Despite being invited here, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. As I walked across the shining wooden floors silent as a soarpigeon, I heard my father’s voice, angry in the distance. Yet, I continued trudging forward, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of the Moss Sanctuary. 

Within seconds, I reached the end of the long entrance hallway, and yet again I faced another door. This door was far more extravagant than the entrance door, with carvings of chimera and dragons decorating the sides. From the noises on the other side, I could tell this was where I was supposed to be. 

I walked into a velvet-covered room, gold lining everything in sight. In the center of the room, a long table stretched from entrance to entrance. At one end stood the 6th Emperor, a pile of papers splayed out before him. At the other, my father and sisters were sitting, the former going through documents searching for a solution. To what? I didn’t know. 

“Welcome, darling Azura,” the 6th Emperor smiled. “How lovely it is to see you again. I am pleased to let you know that I have selected you as my newest acquisition. The trade will be finalized in just a few minutes, as long as your father cannot pose a reason to object.”

The emperor sure knew how to get straight to the point. He truly did believe that he was coming out of this with my body. Surely, it wasn’t like I would ever fight for my rights. Surely not. 

“Dearest father, please flip to page 21, clause 3b,” I implored. 

I always had a plan. And despite being rather passive about dealing with my father, I could not let some imperial scum get in the way of my plans.

“‘The goods from Frederick Adenlea, 4th Emperor of the Twelve, shall not be traded if they are found to be damaged or deceased,’” I quoted from memory. “Therefore, if I happen to be damaged, your majesty the 6th Emperor must choose another sister.”

I grabbed the back of my dress and unzipped it, the fabric splitting in an instant. The 6th Emperor let out an audible gasp as he gazed upon my scar-ridden back, the fresh Sloth still bloody and scabbed over from about a month ago. Along with the sins, cuts and burns littered my back, skin broken beyond repair.

“Frederick, you bastard,” the 6th Emperor cried. “I cannot possibly take goods this damaged. With scars like those, it would be a miracle for someone to want a thing like that. You simply must let me take another one of your girls.”

“Of course, darling Anacreon,” my father said, “Please, take your pick.”

Why was I always treated like an object, even by my own father? To him, I was nothing more than a commodity, one he was desperate to keep. Even now, death did not seem like enough of a punishment for my father, yet it was the easiest solution. But I would make him suffer. 

“Dearest Frederick,” Anacreon implored. “I would love to take your second daughter instead. She would make a lovely new addition to my growing collection.”

I should feel guilty for subjecting my sister to Anacreon’s whims. I really should, but I didn’t. I just felt relieved. I searched my soul for any sense of regret, yet I could not find any. She had never treated me well, yet she was still a nephilim just like me. I really was a sinner.

“Sounds perfect, Anacreon,” my father answered. “I’ll have her prepared and ready to go by next week.”

At that, I paced out of the Moss Sanctuary and fled to the comfortable silence of my guest room, my head a swirl of emotions.

I may have been a sinner, but me and my father were one and the same. And for that, I would make him suffer, each of his sins forever altering his life. He would only die after committing every sin known to man, yet not without suffering. For each of the sins - lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, vanity, and hubris - I would scar his clear skin as he once did to mine. In the end, he would feel my pain. 

Let this day mark the start of his downfall, his first sin painted on the walls of my brain with his insatiable hunger for more: his greed.