Minako sat at her dressing table bleakly, 
so angry and upset about the night's coming events 
that she had become numb. She brushed her hair 
as if she were in a trance, deciding that she 
wouldn't wear it down like usual. It was one of her 
best features, and if she was to meet the man she 
was being forced to marry that night, she would 
certainly not allow him to witness the golden waves 
that typically flowed to the small of her back. She 
decided to frame the curls that now piled on her 
head with the crown of her planet, the crown the 
Senshi of Venus before her had worn. She couldn't 
call the older soldier her birth mother as all her
other fellow senshi could, for the Senshi of Venus
before her, as kept with tradition, had remained 
unmarried and chaste. The Venusian Senshi weren't 
born of a woman, they always emerged from the foam 
of the seas of Venus, as had the Goddess Aphrodite 
countless millennia ago. The Senshi was bound to 
celibacy after that, so devoted to serving her 
Queen that she had no time to think of fleshly 
pleasures. Tradition had it so that the Senshi of 
Love herself would never love, but in exchange, 
could make others love. Minako had always upheld 
this honor proudly, and knew she should be continuing 
the tradition set by Venus Senshi before her, but 
alas, she was bound to an Earth man by an unforgiving, 
unfaltering Royal Decree. She secured the crown and 
stood up from the mirror, grabbing the dress that she 
was to wear.
	If she had it her way, she would have met her 
fiancé wearing a beggar's clothes; burlap sacks loosely 
fitted over a dirty body. Perhaps then she would 
repulse him into doing something drastic, like killing 
himself…or better yet, killing her. But no, Queen 
Serenity had chosen a positively exquisite dress for 
her. It was made of gold silk, having a thickly boned, 
strapless corset top and a slightly bustled, flowing 
skirt. It fit her splendidly, she thought as she tightened 
the lacings on the bodice, groaning in displeasure as 
she saw how it complimented her features. She tugged 
hard on the lacing, hoping that the lack of air in her 
lungs would make her weak and give her an excuse to 
leave early from the ball she was about to go to. She 
gave it a final tug and tied it in a secure bow, 
positive it was squeezing the life out of her with 
every passing breath as it squeezed her already slight 
frame into a shapely hourglass. 
	She slipped the simple gold heels on her feet 
and studied herself furiously in the mirror, cursing 
Queen Serenity and the Silver Alliance for making her 
marry against her will. Tears welled up in her eyes and 
rage boiled inside her as she stared heatedly at her 
reflection. The anger overtook her and she cried out, 
punching the mirror with all her might. It shattered 
easily. The glass nicked her right hand and wrist in 
many spots, leaving one particularly deep cut in her 
palm. She examined it spitefully, breifly thinking of the
Queen's reaction to her self inflicted wound. Let her 
see it, she thought as the blood began to rise in a few 
of the deeper cuts. This is her fault anyway, and if I 
can help it, there will be more where this came from. 
The deep cut on her palm was bleeding profusely, so she 
cleaned it quickly and used her energy only to stop 
the bleeding. She didn't want to heal this one all the 
way, not yet, at least. No use in getting blood in my 
hair or on my face, though, she thought as the wound 
formed a scab. 	
	The clock chimed 8, and Minako felt the anger 
disappear in a rush of sadness and desperation. She was 
late now, and reality began to sink in quickly, weighing 
her down with dread. She would meet him tonight, she would 
finally get to see the decorated Earth General for whom 
she didn't even know a name yet. She would meet him, hate 
him, and be wed to him in two weeks. That was reality, no 
matter how much she loathed the prospect. She examined her 
hand again before heading out the door, much of the blood 
already clotted. Blood shed in vain, she reminded herself 
as she walked out the door, her anger now morphed back 
into a sick, dismal numbness.