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Her white hair was sticking to her face, sweat drenching her fragile body as she landed on the ground. She found herself at the garden of her palace, surrounded by her beloved roses, white, painted red by her blood, a twisted tale of Alice's adventures. She fell to her knees, holding her cut off arm as she tried not to scream. It wouldn't heal, if vampires inflicted a wound on themselves with the intention of it remaining that way their healing powers wouldn't step in. Cecilia thought of it as a merciful part of their curse, if you couldn't take it anymore you could just take your life, end the eternal misery. 

She breathed in heavily, feeling dizzy as short breaths escaped her pale lips, her body growing weaker. The queen heard footsteps, her head snapping as she noticed that someone was approaching her, she couldn't even be left alone to bleed out in peace, someone had to disturb her.