Alone again, I cradled my head in my hands and let out a sigh. The demon had been right to call me a fool - a fool who’d never even thought to tell the truth. I’d like to say that it was born of caution, that I didn’t want to be connected to demonic arts if I could avoid it, or that I had some plan which involved utilizing Amelia’s identity - but the truth was, I’d simply assumed from the start that nobody would believe me. 

Now I’d been presented with a way out… in theory. Bridgette confirmed that the king likely would be present at my execution. Disowned or not, the vessel I now resided in was still the daughter of a duke. Noble blood ran through my veins, and my family tree was closely intertwined with that of the royal family - at least according to Bridgette. Showing up to my execution was the least the king could do, under the circumstances.

All I had to do was ask for a truth stone, to ‘confess my sins.’ Then I’d admit to not being the real Amellia, and beg the king for clemency.

It was a simple plan. In theory. Except for the fact where the king’s refusal would mean my head. Not to mention the big, looming question of what came next. Assuming I could actually escape this mess with my head, where was I to go next?

I was in a world I theoretically created, and yet only had a superficial understanding of. My only real talent was writing, and most of my skills were computer based. I might have the body of a duke’s daughter, but I lacked her status, and had none of her knowledge of this world to help me navigate. I wasn’t even sure how to wield my magic - if I even had any to begin with. I was certain I’d felt something back during the fight, but I couldn’t conjure up that feeling again no matter how hard I tried.

Perhaps there would be time to think of it later, but after my botched escape attempt and near death… Well, I wasn’t really inclined to leap without looking again. I wanted to have a way forward figured out in advance, rather than simply taking life as it happened.

Unfortunately, what I wanted and what I was capable of proved to be two different things, and time marched on without even a hint of success on my part. My only condolence was the package that Bridgette had brought me, which I’d unwrapped to reveal cookies of all things. A bit of sweetness before my demise, I suppose… I had to admit, they tasted better than the prison slop. Though I didn’t remember giving Bridgette any baking skills…

Eventually, the door to my cell was opened and two guards came marching in to take me out.

“Isn’t this all happening rather fast?” I complained, even as they escorted me down the hallway. “I mean, I was only brought in yesterday, wasn’t I?”

The guards didn’t reply.

“I suppose the royal family must have felt the need to take care of this quickly, before I made use of my magic or influence to forge an escape, but still… a day? A day after I was brought in!?”

“You were asleep for a week, Miss Amelia,” one of the guards eventually said, apparently tired of my tirade. “I don’t know what you got up to before coming here, but you barely survived it.”

“A… a week?” I asked. Why hadn’t Bridgette mentioned anything!? “But I wasn’t even stiff when I woke up!”

“That would be because Miss Pauline came by to heal you every day,” the other guard said. “Alongside that lady knight friend of hers. Surprised you didn’t know - they came by yesterday too, didn’t they?”

“I… Only Bridgette came in…” Had Pauline been standing outside the entire time? Unwilling to come in?

“Miss Pauline left early, remember?” the first guard said. “Guess she didn’t wanna see Miss Amelia here, after she was awake. Says a lot about what sorta welcome she must have expected, don’t you think?”

The second guard snickered.

I ignored them, more curious as to what must be going through Pauline’s mind. Why had she healed me? Had Bridgette shared her theory? Did she care that I wasn’t the same Amelia she knew, after everything she’d been through at this body’s hands?

Would she be attending my execution?

I sat in the stands, hands politely in my lap, just as I’d been taught. The prince was sitting next to me - and wasn’t that a statement? There I was, on display as the one who’d been most wronged by Amelia, and the prince was sitting next to me as a show of his support. Not only that, but he was glaring at her - his own ex-fiancee, who was currently being made to kneel in the center of the room, facing towards me and the prince. And, more importantly, the king behind us, but it was hard to think like that when Amelia’s eyes were on me.

“Accursed bitch,” Prince Jethroo muttered, gripping my hand so tight it nearly hurt. “How dare she look at you…”

“Bridgette said-”

“I know what Bridgette said!” he interrupted, scowling. “It’s another trick. Another attempt to worm out of her proper fate.”

“Proper fate?” I asked, aghast. “She’s your fiancee. You’ve known her since childhood. And she’s about to be killed.”

“Ex-fiancee, now. And she’s getting what she deserved - even you agreed.”

“I agreed that she couldn’t be allowed to try and kill me again, not that she should die…”

“It’s the only way,” Prince Jethroo said, lowering his voice to a soothing tone. “Once she’s gone, things will be better. You’ll see. I’ll be there by your side, day in and day out to help you, without any outside interference. And I’ll make sure nobody ever hurts you again.”

“Of course…” I smiled. Or at least tried to. It might have come across a bit sickly, I’m afraid, but… Prince Jethroo didn’t seem to mind… I’m not sure he even noticed.

He never noticed the little things. Like how obviously uncomfortable I was with his presence… but how was I supposed to tell the prince that I had no interest in his attention? I mean, yes, the way he treated me felt nice, at times - made me feel special, even. But he’d never truly set my heart aflutter… If anyone had ever done that, it had been Amelia, with her chilling beauty and her threatening presence.

Even now, manacled and forced to kneel before a crowd of those she’d always considered lesser, she looked gorgeous. From her long locks of dark hair, so black they seemed to absorb light, to the curve of her ruby red lips, she was so pretty that when I’d first seen her I’d thought she must have come out of a fairy tale…

Unfortunately, if so, she’d come from a wicked one. She wasn’t just domineering, she was cruel, bullying everyone and treating them as if they were beneath her… and me? She targeted me most of all… all because her fiancee happened to take an interest in me… I was pretty sure she didn’t even like him!

Yet that hadn’t stopped her from coming after me, had it? Convincing other students to bully me, sending stooges to steal or rip up my clothes, destroying the only outfit I had for dances, and… and even trying to poison my wine…

It was all manageable, up until that point. Until she went from trying to ruin my life to trying to end it. How was I supposed to react to that? How was I supposed to say no, when the prince promised to protect me, and make it stop? So that I wouldn’t have to keep looking over my shoulders for her next deadly trick…

Yet now she was the one with her head on the literal chopping block, a man with an axe ready to take her down the moment the king gave the signal… It was hard to believe. Hard to accept. I didn’t want her dead - had never meant any harm to her - and… and even beyond that, this was Amelia, the lady of a hundred schemes. Surely she had a way out of it, right? That’s what I wanted to believe…

Bridgette said she did. But then, Bridgette also said it wasn’t the real Amelia in there, anymore… that it was someone else. Someone innocent. Prince Jethroo scoffed at the idea - said nothing related to Amelia was innocent, and that it was all a ploy… but Bridgette seemed confident.

She told me they had a plan. Though she wouldn’t tell me what - just in case Jethroo dragged it out of me and tried to interfere, she said, with a scowl. Which was weird, considering she was training to be part of the royal guard… serving and defending Jethroo was her whole thing! But now… now she was going against him. For Amelia. Or… Not Amelia?

Regardless, I had to wonder about the girl. Whatever her plan was, though, she needed to act fast. I couldn’t see the king from my current position, but he must have already given some signal because the executioner was lifting his axe.

“Wait!” Amelia called out. “I want to confess my sins!”

The executioner didn’t stop. He kept lifting the axe.

“Please! As an aristocrat, I have the right to-”

“You are no lady of this kingdom anymore,” Prince Jethroo called out. “Your father cast you out. Continue with the execution!”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “What? Wait! No! I mean… I know that’s technically true, but… but… Please! Your majesty! For the sake of the little girl you once knew, I ask to bare my soul before death! Please! Bring me a truth stone!”

The axe stopped its ascent, and I let out a breath I hadn’t even been aware I’d been holding.

A figure stepped forward, holding a small, black stone upon a golden plate. I was guessing that they’d prepared the stone from the start. Had the king known she would ask?

“For the sake of confirmation, please state your name,” the servant with the stone intoned.

“My name… is not Amelia,” Amelia - no, the person in Amelia’s body stated.

The stone did not react.

“It must be broken,” Prince Jethroo scoffed.

“The sky is green. The sun is violet. And my name is… is…” Amelia paused - and no wonder, seeing as how the stone hadn’t reacted to any of her statements.

“As I said, broken,” the prince declared. I couldn’t have been the only one who noticed him smirking as he said it, either, as a noble called out from the stands.

“Absurd! The truth stone is an invaluable national treasure! For it to be broken is… is…”

“Unfortunate?” Prince Jethroo supplied. “Yes, truly… but I fear with no truth stone, there’s-”

“There must be a way to make another one, right!?” Amelia demanded. “Or… or another in the kingdom?”

“Playing the fool doesn’t suit you, Amelia,” Jethroo snarled. “You know they can only be created by a truth-teller. And the last truth teller to be born here was-”

“I-” Amelia interrupted, only to fall silence as another voice boomed out.

“Enough!” The king declared. “Another truth stone can be fetched from the nearest lord’s estate.”

“But Father, you can’t possibly stay here long enough for another truth stone to be found!” Prince Jethroo objected. “Surely it would be better to shelve the protests of this commoner and simply execute her now?”

“Justice does not work that way, my son,” the King declared. “And while there may yet be injustices in this realm, they shall not be carried out beneath my eyes. In two weeks, I will hold a private conversation with Miss Amelia, and from there we shall determine her fate. For now…”

“Back to jail, I go?” Amelia suggested, dryly, causing every head to snap towards her. “What? Am I not supposed to speak when it comes to my own fate?”

“No,” the king replied - and I could practically hear the frown in his tone. “For now, you go back where you - or at least the body you inhabit - belongs.”

“Which is?” Amelia asked, clearly trying not to look intimidated. 

“School.”

~~~

Author's Notes

Who's ready for an academy arc? Not me. I've never even written one of those before! Oh well...

Hope you enjoyed Pauline's introduction? I was worried that I made a mistake with the PoV change, but a friend looked it over and said it was okay? So I'm putting my trust in them and hoping for the best! 

I've written up to chapter 9 on Patreon, so I'm aiming to get this site up to chapter 7.... I'm unfortunately a bit behind in posting here in general, since the posting process is a bit more involved than some of the other places I put stuff up. I'll try to catch up over the next few days.