Every awakening is rude, but the stuttered drip of condensation gathering a puddle in the corner of the room only acts as a reminder that those above are not only waking for the day but using _plumbing_.

Plumbing!

I mumble insults under my breath that have really improved in creativity from my extended time down here.

Being easily forgotten used to be a blessing in a family like mine.

My parents would purposely spawn new employees for their underground empire, sending my many siblings and me into the streets to steal what we could find.

‘Unremarkable,’ I’d overheard a vendor describe me to some guards. My bright smile rivaled the jewels I’d stolen from his tent.

It was exactly what I’d been trained to be.

We’d never be caught that way.

But then my sister tried to steal from a prince.

She succeeded, I guess, as she’s now the proud owner of his heart.

‘A diamond in the rough,’ the nobility had called her.

It almost gave me hope that I could be the same.

My scoff echoes off my crystalline cage.

The rattle of the chain at my ankle only emphasizing my incredulity.

I’d stolen a book once.

Cinderella, I think it was called.

I poured over the pages until they started falling apart along with me, committing them to memory so I’d be prepared for my discovery.

I wouldn’t be losing that freaking shoe, that’s for sure.

They’d be my first pair, after all.

But no fairy godmothers ever appeared.

Instead, the guards did, after our sister had outed our operation in pursuit of sympathy for her tumultuous backstory.

One that we were all still living.

The march to the castle before the eager onlookers found the rest of my siblings snatched up by gasping dukes and duchesses, drawn to the stock of stealing spawn’s potential.

All except for me.

I did get a room at the fortified fortress, I’ll give them that.

But I’m no Cinderella.

Singing only summons punishment, mostly to my own ears.

There will be no birds to help me dress, and no mice with impressive dexterity sewing me clothes.

No, my animal friends stare at me through the bars of my cell.

And I’m pretty sure they’re rats.

The shine of the room taunts me, even in the dark.

I’m surprised _diamonds_ continue to impress the nobility, when the castle sits atop gems so large that they can carve an entire room inside one.

Petulantly caging me in a reminder of what I’ll never be.

Ignorantly abandoning me to my own thoughts and swirling spite, their most pressing issue isn’t forgetting me, but themselves.

See, they’ve pointedly filled all the roles of heroes here – the lessers, vindicated and validated – giving hope to all that it’s possible to be seen, plucked from obscurity, and fulfill a destiny for a life meant for so much more.

But they’ve underestimated the power of being unremarkable.

There’s no need to make a name for yourself when you’re leaving a mark, I’ve decided, as I continue to use my length of chain to carve weapons out of the walls.

During all this time, they’ve left me to stew, practice, and plan being the most important part of all in their story –

the villain.