Rocío sat on her bed, her arms wrapped around her legs, head resting on her knees. She couldn’t sleep, she was too afraid to close her eyes and even the extra dose of the medicine wasn’t enough to let her sleep, she wondered if she could ever sleep in peace again. She didn’t want to close her eyes, instead, she looked out the window, praying that the sun would rise soon enough. The clock on the farthest corner of the room told her the sun wouldn’t be up for another five hours. She sighed in exasperation and stood from her bed, taking a blanket and wrapping it around herself as she walked to her desk. She pulled out her diary and began to write. Usually writing down her thoughts helped her a great deal to calm down and work through the mess that was her mind.

However, as she sat at her desk with the quill in her left hand, all she could think of was those lifeless penetrating green eyes of the man from her nightmare. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't get rid of them. It was as if they were burned in the back of her eyelids, cursing her to always see them when she so much as blinked. They threatened her not to forget them, warning her of the grave consequences.

She pressed dots on her page, inking the parchment with dark freckles. 

“Why must you torture me so?” She mumbled before scratching at her page.

She ripped it, crumbling the stained parchment in her palms, and throwing it into a bin next to her desk. 

She picked up her quill once she'd rubbed her face and began again.

Why? Why me? Why my family? Who are you? What do you want from us? What do you want from me? Her cursive was an incomprehensible mess, strokes thick and blots all over her page.

She shut her eyes, and there he loomed over her, blade in his hands, piercing green eyes staring her down with no emotion. She opened her eyes with a gasp, staring at her ceiling. Did he have to start haunting her when she was awake as well? Wasn’t leaving her sleepless enough?

“Why?” She begged to know. She needed to know why she kept having that nightmare, why this man wanted to kill them.

Rocío dropped the quill again and stood from her desk. She began to pace around the room, wrapping the blanket around herself tighter, not wanting to let the cool air of the nighttime seep into her skin. She turned on her heel, taking quick and uneven breaths. Why did those horrid green eyes have to haunt her in these ungodly hours of the night? She could still remember the lifeless void within them as if the man himself were no more than a marionette carrying out its master's will.

His eyes were so vividly burned in her mind that it was nearly impossible to escape them. They were ice cold, unfeeling, and eerie. So awfully cruel. Was her family no more than cattle to be slaughtered? Not even a farmer was so unfeeling when killing his animals, so why did this man look at her like a mere worm wriggling in soil for their life? 

Rocío was exhausted. She wanted it to be over, she begged whoever was listening to her to rid her of those cursed eyes.

“This is incredible, Rocío!” The young brunette woman next to her fawned as she fanned herself with the long white lace fan, the lace and satin sleeves of her yellow ball gown swinging with her action. “Simply divine!”

The ballroom was beautifully lit, while wisterias hung from the smaller chandeliers and decorated the marble columns so beautifully. The quartet played mesmerizing melodies while elegantly dressed guests chatted and waited for the young debutante. The hall was decorated ever so carefully, every detail was elegantly executed, with the violet curtains, flowerpots, and even the silverware shaped like roses. Elena truly deserved such a spectacular event and Rocío was happy to see she got it all.

Rocío suppressed her yawn with a wide smile which she covered with her black lace fan. “Well, Elena deserved the best, Sarita,” she said.

“Quite so, but even this is better than the crown princess’ debut ball last year. How did his lordship manage all of this?” The other young woman in front of them asked. Her tightly black coiled hair was up in a beautifully intricate style with flowers decorating it, while her violet-blue dress complemented her dark skin tone. 

“Well, you know my father…” Rocío shrugged.

Sara frowned, “As I remember it, your debut ball wasn’t half as extravagant as this one,” she looked at the dark-haired woman, “right Ines?”

“I hate to agree, but yes, Sarita is right,” Ines confirmed.

Rocío sighed. “Well, of course,” she nodded, “we were at war after all. It’s only sensible we decided to be more…” she paused, searching her mind for the right word, “...modest during my debut.”

Sara crossed her arms, a frown shadowing her face. “Still…”

Rocío smiled so as to placate her friends as she took a sip from the glass of champagne in her hands.

“Cousin Rocío!” The sweet and high voice of what Rocío assumed to be her younger cousin cut through the group of friends. 

Rocío turned to see Beatrice, who wore a beautiful pink gown with frills and lace decorating nearly every inch of it. Her tan neck was adorned with a pink velvet choker that contained a single holographic pearl. Her makeup was done immaculately, accentuating her sparkling brown eyes, and her brown hair flowed freely, much like Rocío’s own hairstyle, but unlike Rocío’s simple black bow, Beatrice had pearls flowing down her hair. She looked like a mermaid showered in pearls. 

“How lovely to see you!” Beatrice brought Rocío into a tight embrace.

Rocío was stiff under her touch. “Hello cousin Beatrice, how are you?” She asked as she gently pulled away.

Beatrice took Rocío’s hands in hers. “Oh, I’m doing well. I can’t congratulate you enough on Cousin Elena’s debut. I’m sure you helped her with choosing the right decorations, you did a splendid job.”

Rocío smiled a little awkwardly, her lips hurt, “Well, it’s mostly thanks to Elena and my mother. I didn’t give much input.”

“Really?” Beatrice raised her dark eyebrow and pouted her pink glossed lips. “I could’ve sworn you were more involved, well I thought it was only natural since you didn’t get much for your debut ball.”