Re: House Kitsune: Darius, Valentin & Open
"Oh, I understand," Sybil said, though she really didn't. "What words should I use then?"
While she was aware of dark-skinned people, they did not travel in the circles Sybil was in. When she was in the city, one would occasionally see them as servants, but never in the country where she'd lived more recently. There were some few at the school when she'd attended, but that was different, of course.
It was also hitting Sybil in a sudden and very visceral way that Mr. Prose was an actual person. Not an abstraction, not a collection of vague emotions, but a very real, very alive person with thoughts and dreams of his own. A mix of emotions started welling up inside her. Shame that she was taking someone's autonomy away, no matter how briefly or well-meaning her motivation, and jealousy that he was alive and she was... not.
She covered her mouth with her hand, and the dark-skinned man in the mirror did the same. Under her fingertips, the face was not hers.
"I'm really dead, aren't I?" she said quietly, her voice a little choked. "I am. I'm dead. I can't—what am I supposed to do?"