The villainess stared down her fate, head held high, lips pulled back into a sneer even as the king denounced her. She…

No. That wasn’t right… Amelia wouldn’t act like that in front of the king, would she? She’d be more interested in appearing calm, collected… but could she? In this state?

I sighed, shaking my head and erasing the word document. The truth was, I had writer’s block. Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to write, but because deep down I didn’t want to write it. 

The villainess was the most entertaining part of my stupid romance novel! I mean, the whole thing was basically just a heap of cliches to begin with - from the commoner protagonist who got accepted at a prestigious school for her light magic, to the engaged prince who’d taken an interest in her. Even Amelia had started life as a cliche - the villainess fiancee who existed only to get in the protagonist’s way.

It’s just… at some point, somewhere between spreading lies about the heroine’s promiscuity, and her actual attempts at assassinating poor Pauline, she’d gone and developed an actual personality! She had complexity, and a tragic backstory - born with the ability to tell when people were lying to her, she grew up distrustful of everyone around her. Her ability made no distinction between white lies made to cheer her up and those meant to hurt her, after all - even a maid saying that she was happy to see the young mistress well might trigger it, if she was honestly more interested in collecting her paycheck. 

Unfortunately, my audience didn’t seem to care. They hated her for getting in the way of Pauline’s happiness, and since Pauline was the protagonist, at the end of the day… Well, once things escalated to the point of assassination, there really wasn’t a happy ending left for Amelia, was there?

Last I’d written, the prince had already convinced the King to end the engagement, and arrest her. Even the duke - Amelia’s father - had been forced to agree that his line was better off without her dragging him down. All that was left for her was arrest, and a messy execution, and then… I guess the happy ending for the loving prince and heroine?

Except I didn’t want to write any of it. Least of all the part where Amelia died… but it was too late to change things, wasn’t it?

I sighed, cradling my head in my hands and closing my eyes. Maybe… Maybe I could at least delay the end? Write one more scene with my beloved villainess? An interim chapter. I could capture what was on her mind, the night before her arrest. 

She probably knew she was going to be captured. On top of her ability to tell truth from lies, I’d given her some light precognition - little visions, or even auditory hallucinations, about what the future might foretell. The worst of them were often self-driven prophecies, like someone turning on her because she turned on them first. They weren’t exactly reliable, but if one showed that she was going to die… she’d probably try and do something about it, right?

I could just imagine her desperately trying to come up with some sort of scheme to avoid capture. She might even turn to dark magic - that forbidden craft, which even she had been scared to touch. The summoning of demons, for deals…

I could see it, now, in my mind’s eye. The candles, lit and carefully placed upon a chalk pentagram. A circle drawn with ancient runes, meant to keep the fiend captured until the deal could be properly struck. The chanting - I could almost hear the chanting, a slow melodious string of nonsense words that probably meant something in some infernal tongue or another. 

Her magic would fill the room, the mana in the air growing denser and denser until she could hardly see, hardly breathe, and yet still the words would come from her mouth. The plea, to be saved from her fate. To be rescued, no matter the cost. She’d promise her soul, her life, if it meant living long enough to take revenge.

The air would ripple, the mana actually becoming briefly visible from its density, and a split would appear in the air, a crack in reality through which all that mana would pour until it was all gone, until Amelia felt like she little more than an empty husk… and then they would step out.

Tall, dark, with a face impossible to describe, and features that slipped from your mind just as soon as you registered them. They would stand there, and they would ask her for her will, and she would tell them her wants - survival. To survive, and be free from her wretched kingdom. To live on, away from everyone who had wronged her.

Then the demon would smile, and say - 

“Deal.”

The world lurched. One moment I was sitting in my chair, the next I was standing somewhere else entirely. Not in my own office, but in the cavernous basement I’d been imagining just moments ago.

“Well, well…” said the demon, its androgynous figure identical to that I’d been picturing. “You certainly do fit into that body nicely, now don’t you?”

“Wha…” I tried not to flinch. Tried not to think about what those words meant - whose body I was fitting into.

I failed on both accounts.

I couldn’t help but look down - look at my hands, so much smaller and more delicate than anything I was used to. It was disconcerting to think of them as my hands, when I was used to hands so much bigger - and harrier, for that matter, too. These hands were the delicate hands of a noble.

“It’s not the hands that bother you though, are they?” the demon teased, apparently having the ability to read my mind. I didn’t remember giving them that ability, but-

“Do you think you ‘gave’ me anything?” the demon asked, seeming amused. “No. You didn’t create me - or this world, no matter what you might think. You simply thought up a world that mirrored it. Which was why, when I reached across the Ocean Of Possibility, I was able to pluck you from your insignificant little world and drag you here, to the world you ‘created.’ A world you were already linked to - your soul was practically eager to make the jump out of your former meatsack.”

“My…” I paused, taking aback by just how much higher my voice was. Breathier, too. “What happened to me? To my body?”

The demon only smiled at me.

“...What’s going to happen to me now?” I asked. I wanted to say more. I wanted to scream, to throw something at the demon, to take it down and force it to put things back the way they were meant to be - but it was all I could do to wrap my mind around what had just happened. One minute I’d been at home, the next… this. 

Besides, how was I supposed to do anything in the frail body of a noblewoman? She’d never done a day’s physical labour in her life! There was no way those delicate hands could throw a punch with any power.

“Honestly? I don’t particularly care. You’re only here because I thought it amusingly fitting to give this body a new occupant.”

“You did this for fun?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.They were lying. I couldn’t tell how I knew - I just did. Amelia’s power at work? “You put me here for a reason, didn’t you?”

“Perhaps,” the demon confessed, shrugging. They didn’t seem particularly bothered by getting caught. “Regardless, I suggest you shift your focus to other matters - like how to escape the prince’s judgement. It would be a shame if your journey came to a close here, don’t you think?”

“You…” I took a step towards the demon, only to stop as I realized something. The summoning circle - I was still on the other side of it from the Demon. Obviously that circle hadn’t saved Amelia from… whatever the demon had done… but… something told me that crossing that circle remained a pretty terrible idea.

“A pity,” the demon murmured. “I’d hoped for you to be a bit stupider… Oh well. I suppose I’ll be seeing you in that case.”

“Wait-” I called out, desperate.

The demon didn’t even respond. They just turned around, and in the same instant… disappeared.

“Great… What am I supposed to do now?”

~~~

Author's Notes

 

What's this? Another work by Princess Kay? Despite her having so many projects? And it's not even a sexy story, this time.... (I mean, there might be some interlewds and the like, but I'm considering keeping them as side content/patreon material to keep the main thing more accessible. We'll see how that goes?)

Anyway, this is an idea that's been politely tugging at my attention ever since I first thought it up... or at least it started polite. At this point it's basically breaking down my door and dragging me out of bed (almost literally, it was nearly 1 AM when I finished this)

I've written 3 chapters of it, including this prologue, with the next two already being available on Patreon. Regardless of whether you read there or here, I hope you enjoy! (Maybe leave a comment if you like the concept? For all that it's been tugging at my attention, I have a lot of projects and part of me is still a bit reluctant to add more, so... I wanna see how popular this idea is, first and foremost... Though there's a good chance I continue either way at this point.)

 

PS: I have a chapter of Double Trouble and I think a couple chapters of Naughty Magic ready for posting. I've been falling behind, I'm afraid... I don't want to flood the site, though, so I'll be spreading the posts out as best I can.

I clenched one fist, running the fingers of my other hand through my hair, teasing at the strands in a desperate attempt to keep myself calm. To keep myself thinking. To keep planning. There had to be a way out of this. 

Except I wasn’t even sure what ‘this’ I should focus on getting out of first! ‘This’ body? It wasn’t mine - it should have felt off. Too small, too thin, too delicate to fit me. I was a man trapped in a form three sizes too small, and the fact that it didn’t feel off at all only made me worry more. Maybe the demon had messed with my mind, or something…

Then there was ‘this’ world. A world I had written. A world I had created - or not, according to the demon, but if the details were close enough then I wasn’t sure it really mattered. It was a world I knew like the back of my hand… is what I wished I could say. In truth, I’d never actually done a deep dive into the geopolitics. I’d never even bothered to create a proper map of the kingdom the story took place in, let alone the ones surrounding it, or the world as a whole. All I really knew about it was that it was a land of magic and monsters, where the lucky few could be born with powers beyond even the command of magic the nobility were known for.

I had no idea how I could possibly deal with the ‘wrong body’ or ‘world’ issue, short of summoning a demon of my own. Something I wasn’t even sure how to do, short of reverse engineering Amelia’s work, and considering how those efforts went for her… Yeah, no.

Which left ‘this’ situation - the circumstances I’d written myself into. Amelia had pissed off everyone of any importance, turned what was meant to be one of the sweetest girls in the world against her through repeated bullying and even assassination, and even lost the support of her own father… and tomorrow, I was going to be arrested, thrown in prison, and eventually executed.

An obvious issue I needed to get out of. Except I had no idea how - I mean, the inability to escape was exactly what drove Amelia into making a literal deal with the devil in the first place!

…Well, that and my bad writing, maybe. If I’d just come up with something - anything - other than demon summoning, I wouldn’t have been dragged into this mess to begin with!

“Ugh…” I took a deep breath, twisting the ends of my hair about my fingers and trying hard to calm down.

Then I paused. “Wasn’t… playing with her hair one of Amelia’s tendencies…?” It certainly hadn’t been one of mine. I hadn’t even had hair long enough to play with, in my own body, considering it had been… Well, male. Masculine, even. With short hair, and pecs, and no tits, and… Why was I so at home in Amelia’s body? Why didn’t it feel more wrong? Was it a result of whatever magic the demon had done to me to put me in this form?

“I… I need to get out of here,” I decided, heading towards the stairs and out of the basement. Up above was the ‘room’ I’d been assigned at the academy - though, really, it was more like a house all of my own, staffed by my one and only loyal maid Clara.

The maid who was currently standing at the top of the stairs, with a candle in hand.

“Mistress?” she asked, her worry written across her brow. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am,” I replied, stiffening my back and speaking as haughtily as I could manage. I… I couldn't afford to be caught out here. Clara was loyal, but she was loyal to Amelia - the real Amelia, not her creator. If she found out I was a fraud, there was no telling what she’d do.

“Glad to hear, Mistress,” Clara said, nodding.

I wanted to snort, to dismiss it as a lie, but… it wasn’t. I didn’t know how I could tell, but she actually was glad that I was fine. Or glad that Amelia was fine, at the very least… hard to believe, considering Amelia’s true nature, but there it was.

“I need to go for a walk,” I said, instead.

“I’ll prepare our winter outfits, Mistress,” Clara replied, curtsying.

I held up a hand to stop her before she could rush off. “No need! I’ll… I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Then at least let me prepare your winter outfit, Mistress,” Clara replied, wringing her hands.

I glared at her, and she took half a step back before straightening her spine. “Please, Mistress. If I don’t, you’ll catch a cold.”

“...Fine,” I muttered, turning my head away from her. I didn’t want her to see my expression. I was afraid the guilt would be written too clearly across my face. All this concern, all this warmth - it wasn’t for me. It was for Amelia. Amelia, whose soul had been stolen away by a demon and stuffed who knows where… 

“Of course, Mistress,” Clara replied, unaware of my thoughts as she scurried off. I waited until I heard her going up the stairs before making for the door myself, opening it up and slipping outside.

The longer I remained, the more chances Clara would have to see through me. It was better I get on with my escape, rather than be suffocated by her misplaced worries.

Unfortunately, I soon realized I had no idea where I was going. I’d never bothered to make up a map of the academy, after all, and the place was huge - big enough to give the daughter of a duke her own villa. Not to mention the arrangements made for the prince, or even the lesser nobility.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have ditched the road leading out from my estate? But it was all but certain that the roads were being watched. The prince had plenty of evidence on his side - not to mention the king, and even Amelia’s own father. Quite frankly, the only reason Amelia wasn’t already arrested was because of her magic. Everybody knew that shadow magic was stronger in the dark. They were waiting for daylight.

Unfortunately, Amelia spent all her mana during the demon summoning ritual, and it would take time for me to get it back. Not that I even knew how to use it properly… I hoped it would be instinctual, but I’d never really detailed the magic system either.

I was starting to notice a pattern with that, actually… From an outside perspective, it probably felt like I’d just half-assed the book, but honestly that sort of thing just wasn’t what I was good at. In fact, I wasn’t sure there was any part of writing I was particularly ‘good’ at but so far I’d managed to gather an audience just by throwing words at a page as best I could.

Usually, that felt like enough. Right now, lost in an academy of my own making? I felt like a fraud.

That feeling lingered, even as I walked aimlessly through the academy grounds. Somehow, no matter how far I walked, I didn’t come across another road. Maybe I was just walking around in circles, never knowing it thanks to the dark. 

That, or I’d fallen into some sort of trap…

“I know you’re out there!” I called out on a hunch.

“Really?” a voice answered, sounding doubtful. “Because you’re pretty unguarded, Lady Amelia…”

“Bridgette!?” I demanded, spinning around to face the voice. “So you’re the one who’s been making me walk in circles!”

“....No?” A strong wind blew past me, forcing me to close my eyes. When I opened them, I found a girl came into view. A blonde, with short cropped hair tucked into a metal helm. Despite armoring her extremities in metal gauntlets, bracers, greaves and sabatons, her torso was covered by nothing more than simple leather. She was a knight in training, learning how to better use her powers to serve the crown here at the royal academy. 

“I don’t think I can even do that?”

Not a lie - not that I needed my strange powers to confirm it. I’d written Bridgette, after all. She focused on wind magic, not illusions.

“So… I wasn’t walking in circles?”

“No, you were. It was kinda funny to watch. Have you never been outside by yourself, Lady Amelia?”

“I’m… used to more light at night,” I muttered, unable to muster a polite smile for the girl who’d likely been tasked to watch me. “How is it that you were even able to track me at any distance?”

“With a night vision potion, of course!” Bridgette replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m surprised you didn’t take one yourself, Lady Amelia. Even if you don’t have any in stock, they’re not that difficult to make!”

“Says the natural-born genius,” I muttered under my breath.

That’s right. Those were the specs I’d given her. Though easily mistaken for an idiot, she was actually a natural talent capable of mastering pretty much anything she tried. From alchemy to magic, she never failed to master whatever managed to catch her eye - but, by contrast, if a thing failed to interest her she’d never learn it no matter what.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Bridgette asked, tilting her head to the side. “Like, really easily! My wind magic brings me whispers all the time.”

“...Right…” I’d written that, too, hadn’t I? It wasn’t even something she could control if memory served. “Well. Is there anything you need me from me, Miss Bridgette?”

“Oh, hey, you went back to calling me Miss!” Bridgette pointed out. “Like you usually do… Huh. Funny that I didn’t even notice you weren’t doing it before. Usually hearing someone like you be so casual with me would totally creep me out!”

“Yes, well, if you’re so creeped out by me, perhaps it would pay for you to leave?” I suggested, doing my best to imitate Amelia’s way of speaking. It was easier than I thought it would be - but then, I’d written quite a bit of dialogue for her, hadn’t I? Indeed, it felt somehow right to speak as she did. Better to speak like a refined lady in her college years than a random thirty something dude.

“No can do, Lady Amelia. The prince himself asked me to keep an eye on you and keep you from getting into trouble!”

“Keep me out of trouble?” I demanded, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Which was a whole thing, actually, with big boobs now in the way, but I tried not to think about that. “Or keep me from escaping?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Lady Amelia!” Bridgette replied. “Escape from what?”

I opened my mouth to retort, only to pause. She was telling the truth. She didn’t know anything about me escaping… Had they not told her the plan? Or was the idiot just not good enough at picking up on subtext? I mean, obviously keeping me out of trouble was just an excuse, but…

“If you insist on keeping me out of trouble, then you can join me,” I declared, trying to sound as imperious as possible. As if this was already set in stone by the heavens above, and I was merely affirming it for mortal ears. “I want to rent a carriage.”

“Rent a carriage?” Bridgette asked. “For when?”

“For tonight,” I replied. “Right now. I want to see the nearest town.”

“You want to go out on the town?” Bridgette asked. “On a school night?”

“We’re academy students, are we not?” I reminded her. “Certainly we’re old enough to do simple things like this, school night or no. And besides, don’t you want to get into a little trouble now and again?”

“But my job is to keep you out of trouble!” she pointed out.

“Then you better keep close to me, don’t you think?” I replied, a forced smile on my lips.

This wasn’t going to work.

There was no way this was going to work.

It was so stupid an idea, only a writer like me could come up with it…

Yet wasn’t Bridgette too a character I’d come up with? Regardless of what the demon had to say on the matter…

Maybe that’s why, after a brief hesitation, Bridgette nodded.

“Great!” I replied, grabbing her gauntleted hand before she could object, and pulling her off in a random direction. “Onward to adventure, then!”

“The carriages are the other way!” Bridgette protested.

“Then lead the way!” I replied, giving her my best scornful look.

It was best to stay in character as Amelia for the moment, after all. Which meant never, ever admitting to a mistake.

Thankfully, Bridgette merely frowned at my slip-up before beginning to lead me in the proper direction.

Perfect. Step one of my plan was almost complete. Now I just needed to finalize my escape… and, of course, figure out how to ditch the tag along.

The carriage trundled down the road, its passage surprisingly smooth. That was great so far as my butt was concerned, but it came with an unexpected downside - it left me with nothing to distract me from how awkward the traveling arrangements were.

Me and Bridgette were the sole riders for this carriage trip, with all the responsible academy students having gone to bed - as had the carriage driver, in fact, before I forced him up and about with promises of an extra large tip. Which essentially meant I was practically alone, in the body of a character I’d created, with another character I’d created. One who was currently happily humming beside me as if the awkwardness of our circumstances couldn’t even touch her.

Then again, she wasn’t aware that she’d started life as a figment of my imagination…. Or not if the demon was to be believed. Which they obviously weren’t - but was my imagination really strong enough to bring a being like that into existence?

Did it matter, in the end? One way or another, Bridgette was here before me, exactly as I’d written her. From the armor design I’d thought up, to the complete lack of social awareness. At a glance, she was exactly as I’d imagined her… and yet I couldn’t help but notice the little things as I stared at her. There were etchings on her greaves and bracers, I realized. A lion’s head. I’d never written about that. I’d never even thought about the designs of a side character’s armor, and yet… there the etchings stood. Was this the result of reality filling in the cracks I left? Or was this truly a world of its own that I’d just happened into writing about?

I… wasn’t sure I liked the thought of that. Wouldn’t it make me a hack of a writer, if I was just writing about something that already existed? Even if I didn’t know it? That left a sour taste on my tongue, but… I couldn’t deny the possibility.

So, again, I had to ask myself - did it matter? It was reality, whether I’d written it into existence or not. Yet at the same time, I had to wonder… because if this truly was the world I’d written… if Bridgette was the ditzy blonde I’d imagined… then didn’t that make it my fault that I was currently being driven insane by her inane, never ending humming?

“Oooh, we’re here!” Bridgette declared, popping up and out of her seat and heading for the door the moment the carriage stopped. As if she was the one who couldn’t wait to escape her present company! “Where to next?”

“Ah…” Shit. Why had I wasted all my time marveling at the annoyance that was Bridgette instead of figuring out how to actually escape…?

Well, whatever. No need to panic. I was a writer. More specifically, I was Bridgette’s writer. If anyone knew how to distract her, then it would surely be her creator, right?

“R-right! Why don’t you show me somewhere good to eat, Miss Bridgette?”

“Somewhere good to eat?” Bridgette asked, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t tell me you came out here to eat something? At this time of night?”

“This is the closest town to the academy, is it not? Surely it sees night time traffic. There must be something still open.”

“Well… I guess we could go to a tavern?” Bridgette suggested. “I don’t know that the food’s going to meet your standards, though.”

“Anything will do,” I promised, forcing myself to smile at her.

“...Can you not smile like that? It’s creepy…”

“You…” I scowled, shaking my head. “Just lead me there, alright?”

“Well… if you insist…” Bridgette replied, shrugging. “But don’t complain to me when it stinks, Lady Amelia.”

“Exactly how petty do you think I am, to hold you accountable for a tavern’s food after all these warnings?”

“I mean… petty enough to try and assassinate a girl for getting your fiancee’s attention, so… Pretty petty? Though I’m not really sure petty is the right word for it…”

“Ah… You… know about that?” I asked, grimacing. I’d been hoping that the prince had kept that hidden from her. Not that he had a good reason to, but… well, that had never stopped me from writing about crappy communication issues before. 

“I’m pretty sure everyone knows about that, Lady Amelia,” Bridgette replied. “I’m pretty sure even the commoners will know about you being disavowed and sentenced to execution, soon enough.”

“You…” I stared at her, face white as a sheet. “If you know all that, then… then why are you letting me wander about?” And why hadn’t my powers detected a lie when I questioned her about escaping?

“Well, my orders were just to keep you out of trouble, right?” Bridgette said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Nobody said anything about stopping your last night of freedom… And your sentence hasn’t even been delivered yet, right? You’re technically still free! Nothing to escape from. Plus, I’m sorta curious what you’re plotting… Though Prince Henry and Miss Pauline will just break it all down as usual, you know?”

“You… You…” I grimaced, gritting my teeth. “Just lead me to the tavern, alright? I can handle my own affairs from there.”

“So long as your affairs involve me watching over you!” Bridgette agreed. Like I said, it’s my job to keep you out of trouble.”

I merely grunted in agreement.

The tavern wasn’t half as seedy as I was expecting, given all of Bridgette’s warnings. It was a bit… rustic, perhaps? Its wooden floor was worn, and dirty, stained in places and sporting a puddle of what looked to be beer in one corner that I hoped someone was planning on getting to. It was illuminated by lamps, hanging on the walls and from the ceiling, and I took advantage of the light offered to try and circumvent the worst of the filth on the ground as I made my way to the bar.

The bartender eyed the two of us - Bridgette for a moment, me for longer, taking in the rather flashy red dress I was wearing. It made me a little uncomfortable, not least of all because I’d been trying very hard not to consider the fact that I was wearing a dress at all. Thankfully, the examination was relatively short lived, though, as after a moment the bartender simply shrugged and grunted, as if saying it wasn’t his problem.

“Hello!” Bridgette said, waving her hand happily at the man. “My name’s Bridgette, and this is Lady Amelia.”

“Do you have to point out the ‘lady’ part?” I muttered, feeling a little self-conscious.

“Well, it is kinda obvious,” Bridette pointed out. “But whatever. We’re here for food!”

“And alcohol,” I added, quickly. “Your finest wine, and as much food as this will pay for.” Saying so, I reached into my purse and felt around for the largest, heaviest coin. A gold, which I placed upon the bar.

“...A rack?” the man asked, before shaking his head. “Finest wine costs a stag. The stew’s three stars a bowl.”

I simply smiled, trying not to show my confusion. Rack? Stag? Stars? What the hell? I’d only ever called them gold, silver, and copper in the book…

“I’m saying that’s a lot of food, Lady,” the bartender said, frowning. “You sure you can eat that much?”

“My companion has a voracious appetite,” I replied, pointing to Bridgette, who in turn pointed to herself and blinked. “I’m sure she won’t mind helping me finish - especially since I’m paying.”

“You mean I get to eat on your treat?” Bridgette asked, eyeing the coin on the bar. “You might wanna put a second coin down, then, because I’m not sure this will be enough.”

“Finish the first batch, and we’ll see,” I told her, trying not to roll my eyes. I needed her happy and content and not at all suspicious for this part. “For now, get us a table while I wait for the wine?”

Bridgette shrugged, heading off as the bartender turned around to look at the shelves behind him. He was reaching up to grab something off the top shelf when I let out a little cough to get his attention. When he turned around to face me, I placed a second gold coin on the bar’s front.

“Forget what I said about the wine. Get me something strong - strong enough to knock the local blacksmith off their feet. And deliver it in a wine bottle.”

The bartender stared at me for a moment before shrugging, and bending down to grab something from beneath the bar instead. I heard the sound of liquid sloshing about, and about a minute later the man stood with a wine bottle in his hands.

“Had an empty on hand,” he explained, placing it on the table, and frowning. “Not that I’m one to say anything, but this seems like a pretty mean spirited prank to play on your friend.”

“Let me worry about that, alright?” I said, taking the bottle and heading towards Bridgette.

“Hey Lady Amelia!” she said, waving at me. “You done plotting against me?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, forcing myself to smile even as I placed the bottle on the table. “I was simply getting us a drink.”

“The strongest drink you could, right?” Bridgette asked. “You forgot about my wind powers again, didn’t you?”

“Of course not,” I replied, rolling my eyes. I’d just been hoping they wouldn’t activate. “I fully expected you to hear my vile plot to get you drunk. What of it? Are you going to refuse my hospitality?”

“I’m not sure the rules of hospitality really apply to this situation,” Bridgette remarked, before shrugging. “But whatever. I’m not afraid of a little alcohol. Bring it on.”

“I just hope you’ll still remember saying that come morning,” I replied, pushing the bottle towards her.

In truth, I’d never actually written about Bridgette drinking. I had no idea what her tolerance was, or anything about her drinking habits. I had once written about this very tavern, though, in a chapter where the heroine had come to the local town in hopes of mingling with other commoners and escaping the arrogant nobles of the academy. It hadn’t gone according to plan at all, of course - but that was besides the point. The important bit was that I’d specifically written something about this tavern having some of the strongest alcohol in the kingdom, as part of the plot. Someone tried to slip just a drop of the stuff into Pauline’s drink, thinking that would be enough to knock her out, but she got saved by the prince before she could take a sip.

Bridgette, on the other hand? Was about to be drinking that alcohol right from the bottle.

“How about a toast?” I suggested, as she sniffed the open bottle. “To a long life?”

“That’s certainly a choice under the circumstances,” Bridgette remarked. “And I can’t help but notice you don’t have a glass…”

“Yes, well, it’s hard to toast to something I won’t have… but surely you could at least take a drink, right?”

 Bridgette eyed me for a moment, before snorting. “You couldn’t be more transparent if you tried, Lady Amelia… But alright.” She raised the wine bottle, then tipped it back, drinking - no, chugging - straight from the bottle, drinking what must have been half the contents in one go. 

Then she slammed the bottle down and smiled at me. “Surprisingly smooth,” she declared… before falling out of her chair.

“...Idiot,” I muttered, shaking my head, and heading towards the door.

“H-heyyyyy…” she called out, voice slurring. “Where are you going?”

“To the little lady’s room,” I replied, not even bothering to turn around. “Don’t worry about it. Just eat your stew. I’ll be back.”

“I’m supposed ta keep you out of trouble, though…”

“I think I can manage a trip to the lady’s room by myself,” I replied, rolling my eyes again, despite knowing full well that she wouldn’t be able to see it. “But tell you what? If I get into trouble, I’ll call your name. Maybe your wind powers will pick it up and let you hear it.”

“...A’right…” she agreed. “I’mma lay down for now… Just… call my name if you need help, and I’ll come running…”

“I’m sure you will.” I laughed, heading out the door.

Maybe escaping my fate wouldn’t be so difficult after all?

~~~

Author'sNotes

Officially up to chapter 4 on Patreon, which means I can release chapter 2 to the public! ...Too bad it's chapter 3 that I'm really excited about... so I guess I gotta make a point of finishing chapter 5 in a hurry! 

On a side note, someone on my server helped me come up with a good idea for a cover pic! A summoning circle, with chalk on one side, a pen on the other, and a woman laying on it, with a book that shows that same summoning circle (plus chalk but maybe no pen?) on the cover.

Too bad I can't afford to make said cover reality quite yet... Soon, though, with luck!

It wasn’t long after leaving the tavern that I realized my mistake. It was only a minor oversight, really, and yet at the same time it could very well prove the death of me, for you see…

I had no idea where I was going. Both in terms of where in the world I was supposed to be running off to, and where I even needed to go to get someone with a carriage to take me there. Not to mention where I actually was - I was pretty sure I’d seen that latrine before… though that made no sense, I’d made at least three right turns since the last time I’d seen it….

“I’m getting nowhere,” I grumbled, glaring at the offending restroom that apparently had legs or something considering it kept managing to stumble into my path. “I need to find a guide…”

I scanned the dark streets, looking for any signs of other human company, but there was nothing. Just shuttered windows and closed doors in all directions. 

“I suppose it’s too much to hope someone would walk by at just the right time, huh?” I sighed, shaking my head and walking down the street. If I kept wandering long enough I’d eventually find someone who could give me directions, right?

At least that was the plan, until I felt something clamp around my ankle. I squeaked, pulling back as best I could, only to stumble when the thing that had grabbed me refused to give way. Falling on my ass, I had barely a moment to appreciate the extra cushioning Amelia’s body provided me before the wretched thing that had grabbed me started tugging at me - or rather, using my body to tug itself towards me.

As for the creature itself, I could hardly make out what it was - not that I was focusing on it all that hard in my attempt to escape. All I could see was raggedy locks of hair and tattered cloth and a thin, almost skeletal hand that was reaching towards me, as if to pull the very life from my being. I was about to scream, when-

“Please…”

The girl - because that’s what she was, I suddenly realized, a girl dressed in nothing but rags and covered in what looked to be bits of mud and ash, her body so thin it seemed as if a light breeze might snap her in two… and yet that girl was holding onto my ankle with all the strength she could muster, squeezing out the word ‘please’ again even as she dragged herself forward.

“Please… my big sis…”

“Alright, alright,” I hurried to reassure her. “Just let go of me and sit yourself down, alright? You’re going to hurt yourself dragging yourself against the ground like that.”

“It’s… It’s…” the girl whispered. “I’m… I’m not… but my sister… Please… My big sister…”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” I muttered, reaching into my purse. The bag held more than its seemingly small size would theoretically allow, and while I wasn’t actually entirely sure what Amelia was in the habit of carrying around in her purse, I did know that there was one emergency measure she was never without. A vial of red liquid, held within its own little cloth bag.

“Open your mouth.”

“Wha-” the girl began, but I didn’t let her finish, pulling out the cork and practically forcing the bottle’s opening down her throat. I could hear her choking, gagging, some of the red liquid running down her chin before she managed to choke the rest of the bottle’s contents downs.

“Wha… what was that for!?” she demanded, springing to her feet. “I coulda died from that!”

“Much like you could have died from your wounds,” I remarked, eyeing her. I hadn’t exactly gotten a good look at what was wrong with the girl to begin with, but she seemed fine enough now. Strong enough to stand, and gape at me in wonder, anyway. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“You… was that a healing potion!?” the girl demanded. “Like… like in the stories?”

“Potions are hardly a matter of stories,” I scoffed. “Anyone can craft them with the right materials and knowledge.” Not that I had either. Just a potion I happened to know how to use. “Now, why don’t we start from the beginning. You were telling me about your big sister?”

“R-right!” the girl said. “My da! He… he died, in a hunting accident, and some men came, and they said… they said he owed money, so… so they took Big Sis! They took her!”

“Took her?” I asked, furrowing my brow. “As in… as a slave?”

The girl nodded, biting her lip. “I… I can’t save her… but… But surely someone like you must be able to, right? You’re a noble, aren’t you? I heard you’re all capable of magic!”

“Magic I can manage,” I lied, surprised by how smoothly the words came to me. But then, speaking as Amelia had become almost too easy. Even my thought patterns seemed to have shifted a little, my inner and outer dialogue both matching her method of speech seamlessly.

I wondered what that meant - was the original Amelia still, perhaps, inside me? Was her will guiding me? Or was it just the body itself that was having an effect upon me? Or maybe it was neither - maybe I was just slipping into the role required of me, and that’s all there was to it…

I didn’t know. It didn’t matter. Right now, I was more concerned about the little girl in front of me. As… upsetting as her entrance into my life had been, it was clear to me that the girl was in some real trouble. As was her big sister.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anything I couldn’t handle.

“Do you know where they took her?” I asked. “Can you show me the way?”

The girl nodded.

“Good. Then lead the way. We’ll consider it a test of your abilities as a guide.”

“...Huh?” the girl asked, tilting her head to the side.

“What? Did you expect me to help you for free?” I demanded. “If I’m going to be saving your sister, then I think the least you can do to repay me would be acting as a guide… assuming you prove up to the task?”

“Of course I’m up to the task!” the little brat declared, pumping a hand on her chest. “Don’t you worry about me! Little Bean is on the case!”

“...Little Bean?” I asked, trying not to laugh. “Is that what they call you?”

“Yeah! So what?” the girl asked. “I’m little, and my name’s Bean. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” I remarked, shrugging my shoulders. Honestly, I was just glad the girl seemed calm enough to joke around rather than sobbing uncontrollably about her sister. Now that would have been an uncomfortable disaster… “Which way is it?”

“Down that corner, and through the alley,” the girl told me, grabbing my hand and tugging me forward. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“Convenient,” I remarked. There wasn’t much time to think on it, though, as the girl was now rushing forward, dragging me along - past the corner, into the alley, and…

She stopped, so suddenly I almost tumbled into her. I wanted to tell her to watch where she was going, but it was rather hard to scold her when I could see the reason for the sudden cessation of her movements, clear as day.

Namely, the big lug standing at the end of the alleyway, with his arms crossed over his chest and a big smirk on his lips.

“Big boss Tinny…” the girl whispered.

“Big boss?” I asked, discarding the frankly ridiculous sounding name to focus on the more important factor. “Does that mean he’s the one who took your sister?”

“And what if I am?” Tinny asked, in a voice that was… surprisingly high pitched. Honestly, the disconnect between his hulking look and that voice was almost enough to make me laugh - would have been, perhaps, if Amelia’s body wasn’t well conditioned to hide emotion. 

“Well, if you are the one who took her sister, then you’re also the one I have business with, aren’t you?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “How much?”

“…How much for what?” Tinny asked, frowning.

“For her freedom. To remand her to my custody. How much? I’m sure you’ll find that I have plenty.”

The man stared at me for a moment, before letting out a small laugh. “Heh… you hear that, boys? She wants to make a deal with us…”

“We heard her, boss!” called a voice from behind me, causing my head to snap around. A tall, lanky man and a short looking dude with a nose that almost looked like a pig’s snout were standing behind us, knives bared and smirks upon their lips. It was the tall one speaking. “She thinks she’s got… uh… what do you call it…”

“Leverage,” grunted the smaller man beside him.

“Yeah, that’s it! Like we weren’t just going to take everything you had on you, anyway… Bet those clothes of yours will be worth a pretty penny once we strip them off your corpse.”

“Please try not to struggle,” the shorter man added. “You might damage some of the merchandise.”

“You… Do you know who I am?” I asked, as imperiously as I could manage. My heart was beating a mile a minute, but I still stood strong. “I am Lady Amelia Thornhopple, daughter of Duke Thornhopple, and you-”

“Are a bunch of petty insects unworthy of his lordship’s gaze,” the big man said from the front, reminding me of his presence. “Which is exactly why he’ll never find hide nor hair of us when he comes looking for what happened to you. Not that he’ll even be sure of your fate, seeing as how your body will be fed to the pigs. You’ll just be another noble girl who ran away and got lost who knows where, so far as anyone around here’s concerned.”

“That’s…” I turned back towards the man, only to pause a moment later when I felt something sharp press against my neck. 

“Forget it, little princess. Don’t even try to reach for your magic, because I’ll cut you down before you can muster more than a spark.”

“I don’t do sparks,” I growled back. I didn’t resist, though. I wasn’t even sure how to. I didn’t even know how to use Amelia’s magic. “...At least let go of the girl’s sister, won’t you?”

“Her sister?” He smirked. “Sorry, but that was just a lie the girl came up with to lead you here for us. Her sister’s nice and safe - or at least as safe as any of the girls in the local brothel can be.”

“That’s…” No. Bean hadn’t lied. She couldn’t have. Otherwise, Amelia’s powers would have activated. “You’re forcing her to do this, aren’t you?” I demanded. “You threatened her sister so that she’d do what you wanted her to.”

“Believe what you wanna believe in your last few minutes, girl,” the man said, shrugging.

I wanted to say something back. I don’t know what - something witty, I suppose… whatever that might be. 

I didn’t get the chance, though. Not with an inch of steel through my neck. It was all I could do just to stand there, blood dripping from my lips and pouring down my throat, slipping down my cleavage. 

It was only then that I realized it - this whole time… this whole time I’d been in this world of mine, I’d been treating it like… like it was all some big joke. A game.

Oh, I’d taken it seriously enough on the surface, running from my fate… but I’d never put any thought into the actions I’d taken. I didn’t think further than running out the door. I didn’t think of where I was going, or what to do… Somewhere, deep inside me, I’d just sort of figured those things would work out. 

I mean, I was literally the creator of this place, wasn’t I? It’s god… I’d written Bridgette, and Pauline the Heroine, and Jethroo the prince, and even Amelia herself… all had come from me… at least in theory.

I’d never written about the lug in front of me, though. Never wrote a single word about him. And yet that hadn’t stopped him from sliding a steel knife into my throat. It didn’t stop him from looking down at me, as if I was some disgusting bit of scum off the bottom of his shoe…

It hit me, then - really hit me - that I was going to die.

I was going to die.

I was… I was…. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to rage. To reach out and drag everyone into the darkness with me. I could feel something, something near my heart - a warmth, burning, raging to escape. All it needed was for me to take it. Shape it. Give birth to it…

But already the darkness was closing in around me. Already I was starting to fade…

“Well, that’s no fun, is it?” whispered a voice, even as I felt the darkness take me. “You’re not supposed to die. Not yet, anyway… I still haven’t technically fulfilled the entirety of my contract…”

There was a hand on my mouth. A hand, and something in it - something being jammed inside. It was wet, and it was warm, and it made me sputter, but in the end it went down my throat, and I… I…

I could breathe. “I’m… alive?”

“For the moment,” the androgynous figure in front of me declared. “Though I doubt it’ll hold long…”

“What…” I looked around me. Everyone - from the lug who’d stabbed me to the little girl who’d betrayed me - were frozen in place. And I don’t mean from fear - they were literally frozen. And not just them. Everything around us had gone silent. As if the entire world had frozen, except for us.

“What I poured down your throat was a simple stop-measure. It’ll keep your heart beating, keep your body moving, but it won’t repair the damage that’s been done. For that, you’ll need a proper healer.”

“...You can’t mean…”

“The heroine of your little tale?” the demon asked me, smirking. “Yes, I imagine she would be able to heal you… if she had any reason to.”

“Then… then who?” I asked.

The demon shrugged. “That’s for you to figure out, now isn’t it? I’m just here to give you a chance.”

A lie. “No. You said something about a contract. You… you need me alive for some reason, don’t you? Or at least you need this body alive.”

“...Perhaps,” the demon confessed, shrugging nonchalantly. “The fact remains that I don’t have it in me to heal you right now, though. You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”

Not a lie. I growled. “Then at least take the rest of these assholes down for me!”

“Now what fun would that be?” the man asked, shaking his head. “I could teach you a spell to take care of them yourself, though… For a price.”

“As if I’m dumb enough to willingly enter a trade with you.” Taking advantage of a deal that already existed was one thing, but I wasn’t going to sell my soul to some random devil!

“A shame… Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to think of a way out of this in any case…” The demon shrugged, turning as if to disappear, before pausing. “By the way, that potion’s effect will last an hour. During it, you won’t die even if someone kills you… but once it wears off, you’ll be faced with all that damage at once. I’m afraid if you can’t find a healer… it really will be bye bye.”

“Fuck off,” I growled, spitting blood at the demon. Or at least I tried - the damn globule splattered against some sort of invisible wall before it could even get close.

The demon laughed, and disappeared.

Time resumed.

The thuggish man stared at me. “You’re… you’re supposed to be dead…”

“Yes, well, you can see how well that’s working out for me,” I remarked. Bluffing was my only choice here. The only way I was getting out of this. “Care to take another shot?”

“You…”

“Or you can take my money and run,” I suggested, grabbing my pouch and throwing it to the ground at his feet. “See how far it gets you before my father finds you and drags you back.”

“You… I…” the man stared at me, with a gash in my neck, still talking despite the blood that had spilled down my clothes. It wasn’t like the wound had closed, either - it was still there, still visible, still grotesque. 

Enough to scare the man into grabbing the bag and rushing off.

“W-wait for us boss!” the lanky one called out, pushing past me a moment later. The short one followed - though he, at least, took the time to glare at us before parting. 

That just left the girl. She was staring at me, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Lie. “I had to do it. They would have killed me!” Truth. Not that I cared. “I had to! You gotta believe me!”

I stared at the girl for a moment longer. Then sighed. “Go to the tavern. You’ll find a knight there. Probably still drunk off her ass. She’ll help you save your sister. For real, this time - don’t lead her into a trap.”

“You…” the girl stared at me. “Why?”

“Why not?” I asked, with a shrug. “I’m about to die… might as well make something good out of my life while I still have the chance…”

“You…” the girl stared at me.

“Well? You going to go or aren’t you?” I demanded.

“I’ll get the knight,” the girl whispered. “A potion! I’m sure she’ll know where to get a potion! Like the one you gave me!”

“As if those things grow on trees…” Honestly, the one I’d used was a super high grade one, made of ultra rare materials. If I still had it, it probably could have healed me… but I’d stupidly used it all up on a con artist.

“Guess that’s the story of my life,” I muttered. “Get hooked on something, try to do good, get burnt, and go off to die on my own… Fitting…” 

I shook my head.

“Just get going. The knight will help you.”

Bean stared at me for a long moment, tears in her eyes. Then she ran. Towards the tavern, maybe - or some other direction entirely, for all I knew. Not like I had any damn sense of direction…

For my part, I looked around. “I wonder how to spend the last few hours of my life…”

I could try to do some good, maybe? Or some bad. Would be pretty easy to scare some folks with the way I looked, right then…

Or maybe I could just look around. Look at this world I’d maybe created… appreciate the beauty I’d… maybe brought into existence… 

Speaking of things I’d possibly brought into existence… I wondered if Bridgette really would have come if I’d called? If I’d screamed for help, at the top of my lungs, in that moment… Would it have made a difference?

Or would I be dying here all the same?

I shook my head, letting out a sigh, before simply letting myself collapse to the ground.

What was the point of walking around when I was already dead? When I’d already lost everything… I wasn’t even sure Pauline’s magic would be enough to save me, and that was assuming anyone could convince her to try.

Still… as I lowered myself fully to the ground, I couldn’t help but wonder… what it would be like, if instead of being brought into this world as the villainess I’d been the heroine instead…

Would a dashing knight have come saving me, then?

Would the prince put everything in his power to providing me with the best healing medicine possible?

Would I have survived?

I didn’t know the answer… but… as I felt the cold and darkness take me, I had to admit… Part of me wished… that just once… I could be the damsel rescued, instead of the villain everyone hated.

Yet even now, I still couldn’t bring myself to cry that knight’s name, could I? I couldn’t bring myself to say it… even if it meant I might survive… even if it might be my final chance…

Why? Why was I so stubborn? Why was I so scared?

She’d said she’d protect me from trouble, didn’t she? Even if she meant it mockingly,. Even if she meant it as an enemy… She’d promised, hadn’t she?

And yet here I was, dying…

“Stupid… Bridgette…” I whispered, to the wind. “...I’m sorry… I don’t think you’ll be fulfilling your duty, tonight…”

I laughed.

And then I closed my eyes, ready to let the night take me.

The world always seemed still when I ran through it. Fast as the wind, everyone called me, but from my perspective it was more like the whole world slowed down, until there was nothing in it - nothing but me, and the wind itself.

When I stopped, the world started moving. At least, that’s what it was supposed to do. The girl laying in front of me, though, stayed just as still as when I’d run towards her.

She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing. It was entirely possible her heart wasn’t even beating. Yet when I moved to pick her up, the noble lady’s eyes opened up all the same. Her mouth moved. No sounds came out - but I didn’t need them. Even silent as they were, her words were enunciated so clearly that even someone with no experience reading lips would have been able to figure it out.

“What do you mean ‘stupid Bridgette’!? You’re the one who acted like a dumb dumb, getting all caught up in a fight and not even calling my name… If I hadn’t heard you at the end there, where would you be? How much time would we have lost if I had to count on that girl you sent to lead the way back here, huh? Too much, maybe! 

“Ugh. Why do I get all the thankless jobs?”

I grimaced, glaring down at the woman in my arms. The horrible, petty woman who’d caused nothing but trouble for as long as I could recall.

…Except… the girl I knew would never have sacrificed herself for someone else. No way she could have earned some street urchin’s allegiance, either - she would have seen someone like that as beneath her. But the way that girl had pleaded for me to get up off my barstool and save that ‘stupidly nice noble lady’ - it had been hard to put together the girl’s story, what with me being a bit drunk and all - that alcohol was way stronger than I’d expected - but if even half of it was to be believed…

Was this really the same Amelia I knew?

“Like hell I’m going to let you die before you explain that!” I muttered. “First I’ll get Pauline to patch you up, then I’ll make you confess all your secrets, and then…”

Well, by then it would be time for Amelia to be executed, wouldn’t it? That had been the plan all along, after all. Let the girl run around and throw a tantrum and tire herself out before taking her back to face justice.

So… why… for the first time… did I actually feel kinda bad about it?

 

 

~~~

Author's Notes

 

I'm gonna be honest, this chapter did not go as I expected. At all. Maybe it's the fact that I wrote it in an insomnia driven writing spree, or maybe it's just that the characters had their own ideas on how it would go, but I did not expect any of this to go down... Something like it, sure, but not this in particular.

Still, I'm pretty satisfied with it? Hopefully that's not just the sleep deprivation talking, and it's actually good... Let me know what you think?

Next up I'm gonna go write some of my Ranma fanfic, and then... We'll see? More of this is a possibility. As is more of Double Trouble, or Naughty Magic....

PS: Before I forget, I have written up to chapter 5 on Patreon, if you want to join for as little as $1!

There was darkness, there was light, and there was - on occasion - sound.

“What’s…”

The world faded in and out for me, which was rather strange, considering I’d been just about ready to bid adieu to the world once and for all… And yet, somehow, eventually, the world continued to show up in bits and pieces, in and out

“...kidding me…”

“Hold on…”

More light, then. More sound, too, but it faded too quickly for me to latch onto anything. When I finally awoke again, it was to find myself in manacles, chained to the hard bed on which I resided.

It wasn’t all bad. My hands were at least manacled in front of me, rather than behind, and there was enough give on the chain to access almost every part of the small room, though it brought me short about a foot from the door. There was a table in front of me, with a glass of water and a bowl of porridge. Both lukewarm.

I didn’t care. I devoured the porridge, abandoning whatever manners or bodily instincts had been baked into Amelia’s bones in favor of simply guzzling porridge straight from the bowl. After I helped myself to the water, of course - I was parched.

It was only after, when I was wiping away the mess with the tablecloth, that I realized something strange - my neck didn’t seem to have a mark on it. Not even a ridge of scar tissue. Not that I was surprised to find that the wound had been healed. I would have been dead if it hadn’t been. But for my neck to feel so smooth, they’d either used a high quality potion, or…

“The light,” I murmured to myself, touching my neck. I could still vaguely remember the light. That, and a gentle voice telling me to hold on. Could it have been Pauline? Had the heroine of the story actually healed her worst enemy? Well enough that I didn’t even seem to have a scar… or at least not one I could feel.

There was a knocking at the door.

“Hello?” I called out, a little nervously. “Who’s there?”

“Bridgette, of course! Who else would bother to visit you in prison?” came a cheery voice back.

“My maid, for one… though I’m not sure she’d be allowed…”

“Probably not,” Bridgette agreed, from beyond the door. “But I could try to arrange for something? If you wanna give me permission to come in, that is.”

“Why ask permission?” I asked, trying not to scoff. “As you said, I am in prison. I can’t even reach the door, let alone open it for you.”

“Well, excuse me for caring about a little thing called manners!” Bridgette replied, opening the door and waltzing in even as she spoke.

“That might hold a bit more weight if you didn’t say it while barging in,” I remarked, scowling at Bridgette. I didn’t recall writing her to be so annoying, so why was she so good at getting under my skin?

“Well, it’s not like you were going to give me permission anyway, right?” She blithely declared, before dropping a package onto the table in front of me. “Besides, I brought a cell-warming gift.”

“A cell-warming gift?” I demanded, glaring at her. “Is this some joke to you? I’ve been arrested, to be executed, and you just…” I grit my teeth and turned my head away. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway…”

“Because you’re going to die anyway?” Bridgette asked. “That was true when you got stabbed, too, but you still said my name in the end, didn’t you?”

“That’s… I didn’t expect you to actually come…”

“But you still wanted to live, didn’t you?” Bridgette pressed. “So why don’t you try saying it now?”

“Saying what?” I asked, incredulous. “Your name?”

“Why not? Call for me like your knight in shining armor, and who knows? Maybe I’ll even appear to block the executioner’s blade.”

“As if you would do that for someone like me,” I scoffed.

“You mean someone who’d waste her final breath trying to save some kid she’d just met, instead of calling for aid? Though I guess it wasn’t actually your final breath, was it? Not entirely sure how you pulled that off - by all rights, you should have been dead before Pauline could even see you, but something kept you going…”

“Is that it, then?” I asked. “Are you here to interrogate me about what strange substance allowed me to escape death?”

“Nooope,” Bridgette replied, making a point of popping her ‘p.’ “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d love to know the recipe of whatever kept you going… depending on how it works, you might even be able to negotiate your way off the chopping block! You’d probably still face life in prison, though…”

“Sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t know what was in it. Not that I’m much in the mood to tell you about it, anyway…”

“Then why don’t you tell me something else?” Bridgette asked. “Like, say… What happened to the real Amelia?”

I froze for a moment, then forced out a laugh. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that the real Amelia would have leaped on the chance to make a deal for herself.”

“I already told you I don’t know what’s in the potion,” I reminded her.

“And the real Amelia would never admit to that either,” Bridgette said. “And she wouldn’t have frozen in place when accused, either - unless this is all some sort of elaborate trap to make think you’ve swapped places with someone? In which case, bravo, you’re doing a great job, because honestly I haven’t even gotten to the biggest evidence there is yet…”

“And that evidence is?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You actually ate the prison slop.”

“…That’s it?” I demanded. “That’s what your great theory hinges upon?”

“Uh-huh,” Bridgette confirmed. “I mean, there’s also the way you handled things with that kid…”

“Her name is Bean. And she was supposed to ask you for help rescuing her sister…”

“More stuff the real Amelia would never bother with,” Bridgette replied. “And don’t worry - the kid’s a better negotiator than you. Refused to give me all the juicy details about your interactions until after I’d secured her sister’s freedom.”

“How long was I out for that to all be taken care of?” I asked, blinking in surprise.

“Not long. I work fast when I wanna. And that’s another tick against you - the real Amelia had ways of tracking time, even when unconscious.”

A lie. Not that I needed Amelia’s powers to tell me that - I’d certainly never given her such an ability.

Yet even as my eyes narrowed, Bridgette’s smile was growing. “Interesting! You know, Amelia always seemed to know when I was lying to her, too - though she was way better at hiding her reactions to it… I used to think maybe she carried a truth stone on her, but now I’m wondering if it was something a bit more intrinsic?”

“A truth stone?” I asked, dodging the question. “What’s that?”

“It’s… a stone that lets you know when people are lying? Which should be pretty obvious, I’d think.”

“That’s…” I blushed. “I didn’t know they existed…”

“The real Amelia did,” Bridgette replied. “Bet if I could get my hands on one of those, it would out you real quick, too…”

“Do you think it would be enough to prove I’m not her?”

“So you’re admitting it?” Bridgette asked, grinning.

“Maybe… I mean… I suppose?”

“Why are you even pretending to be her in the first place?” Bridgette asked.

“I mean… Look at me,” I muttered, gesturing to my form. I had been changed, at some point, into a simple shift that covered me, but did little to truly conceal me. It had a wide open neck that did little to hide my cleavage, and a short skirt that forced me to keep my legs together if I didn’t want to expose myself - something that only made me more aware of the thing missing between my thighs. “Who would believe me if I said I wasn’t her?”

“I mean, you do look just like her,” Bridgette admitted. “Like, absolutely identical, even.”

“That’s because it’s her body,” I confessed, sighing. “She made a deal with a demon to try and escape her fate, and it responded by making me take her place.”

“An interesting story,” Bridgette said. “It raises questions about where Lady Amelia might have gotten information on demon summoning, but it exonerates you in particular of any wrong doing… If it’s true.”

“Can’t you just use one of those truth stones to find out?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Bridgette replied, frowning. “But they’re really rare. We’d need to get the king involved.”

“I’m the duke’s daughter, aren’t I? Doesn’t that make this case important enough?”

“You’re in the body of the duke’s daughter,” Bridgette corrected me. “Which might be problematic for entirely different reasons if not for the fact that the Duke disowned her prior to sentencing. Even the real Amelia is a commoner right now… though I guess that does raise the question of who you were before all this?”

“Me? I was nobody,” I replied, not quite able to meet Bridgette’s eyes.

“Uh-huh. A random nobody who just happened to get involved in a demon summoning ritual?” Bridgette asked. “What, did Amelia drag you in as a sacrifice or something? Is she wearing your body now?”

“I… I don’t actually know what happened to my body,” I admitted. “But it’s not… I’m not… from around here.”

“Not from around here?” Bridgette asked.

“I’m…” I hesitated a moment, before deciding to take the plunge. What point was there in holding back now? “I’m from another world. The demon pulled me here, across something they called the Sea of Possibility or some such.”

“The Ocean of Possibility, actually,” a familiar voice remarked, as the speaker somehow seemed to turning their way into reality, as if the difference between them being there or not was a simple matter of rotation. “Not that the particulars matter much. I more or less stole the term from System Lost, anyway. Excellent series, by the way - ever read it?”

“Wha-” I began, only to pause as Bridgette pulled out her rapier, and lunged at the demon.

The demon merely laughed, even as the rapier pierced through them - followed by Bridgette’s arm, up to the elbow, passing through them. “A good try, my dear, but I’m afraid I’m not actually here this time.”

“This time?” Bridgette asked. “So you were here for real before?”

“When I put that one in her current predicament, yes,” the demon confirmed.

“Why?” Bridgette asked.

“For funsies, of course.” A lie. There was definitely more to it than that. Unfortunately, Amelia’s powers didn’t come with anything as convenient as details on the matter. Hell, there wasn’t even a gradient to it - something was either a lie or it wasn’t, with no distinction made for half-truths.

“No,” Bridgette pressed, “why her in particular?”

“Because she met the requirements, of course,” the demon replied. “A writer, in her own world - or should I say his?”

Bridgette glanced at me. “I… Yeah,” I confirmed. It felt like there was a lump in my throat. For a moment, I was sure Bridgette was going to glare at me in disgust, or maybe even spit, or laugh at the guy in a dress, but she just shrugged and turned her attention back to the demon. “So? She was a writer before?”

“And still is, I imagine,” the demon replied. “That sort of thing doesn’t change just because your body did, now does it…? But yes. She was a writer. One who wrote about a world rather similar to this one. Close enough, in fact, to trigger a sympathetic link between him, the author, and her, the character. Such things are important when navigating the Ocean of Possibility - or Sea of Possibilities, or whatever else you want to call it.”

“So that part was real, then?” I asked. “I thought you said you took the term from some book?”

“System Lost, yes - by DarkTechnomancer. It really is a good read - shame that you’re no longer on Earth to try it… But regardless, I said I stole the term, not the concept. That predates us all.”

“And that concept is…?” Bridgette pressed.

“Exactly what it says on the tin,” the demon replied. “A sea of all that was, is, and could be. A raw ocean of possibility. Navigating it is what we demons are known for - and what makes our services so valuable to mortals such as yourself.”

“And you’re telling us this for what reason, exactly?” I asked.

“Because I want to make a deal, of course,” the demon replied, smiling. “For your life. All you have to do is give up Bridgette.”

I glanced at Bridgette - frozen, again. Just like the last time the demon had appeared. Did that mean she was defenseless? That the demon really could kill her, despite supposedly not being here? All I had to do was give the word…

“Hell no,” I replied, instead. “Even if I was stupid enough to deal with a demon, I wouldn’t throw someone else to the wolves just to save my sorry ass.”

“And there you have it,” the demon declared, clapping, as Bridgette’s body suddenly sprang back to life. “I trust you heard all that, Bridgette? I assure you that she had no idea you could hear us - she had every chance and reason to betray you, and yet didn’t.”

“Your point being?” Bridgette asked, frowning.

“That her only crime in this world is being too much of an idiot to consider just telling the truth,” the demon replied. “And yet, by your laws, she’s to be executed tomorrow morning… How sad. I wonder, though - can you, as a knight, really allow such a thing to occur? An innocent’s blood spilled, while the naughty noble herself lives?”

“And what are you suggesting?” I asked, before Bridgette could. “That she take me and run away or something?”

“That would be interesting,” the demon remarked. “Certainly fun. But have you considered… simply telling the truth? To the king, this time. He might grant you clemency.”

“There’s no time for that,” Bridgette interrupted. “There’s no way to get an audience with him before the execution.”

“Indeed,” the demon confirmed. “But there’s one thing you’re forgetting…”

“And what’s that, oh great and weirdly helpful demon?” Bridgette asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s obvious isn’t it?” the demon laughed. “If you can’t meet with the king before your execution, then you’ll simply have to plead your case during it instead!”

~~~

Author's Notes

Wrote chapter 6 for Patreon on another insomnia-fueled binge of writing.... (Though in this case it was less insomnia, and more "I had to stay up all night for an EEG that I ended up missing anyway"). Still, the bright side of it all is that I now get to share this chapter with all of you! *Giggles wickedly.*

On a side note, it's maybe worth mentioning that I'm having a bit of a health issue? Thyroid issues, to be precise - which probably explains why my depression has been getting even worse over the last few months... I'm hoping to get this sorted soon? And I'm also hoping that getting it sorted will help me with getting more done in general... We'll see, I suppose?

Next up is probably some Double Trouble? I found myself almost writing Charlotte's name on more than one occasion, and it's making me realize I miss the girls... (After that? Who knows. Maybe more of this? Maybe Naughty Magic? Maybe even some Hatching the Heroine... we'll see.)

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.

I held my arms out as the guards unlocked my manacles, and took them off my wrists. I felt numb. Even as my freedom was being granted, I was struggling to process what had just happened.

I’d… pleaded for my life, and… Won? Or… not quite won, I suppose, but… I’d at least been given a stay of execution - literally, in fact. After coming so close to death, after seeing the axeman actually lift his axe and prepare to strike… it was hard to process the fact that I wasn’t going to die. Today, at least. 

Maybe not at all, even. It didn’t seem like the king really wanted me dead, after all - not when he was going out of his way to stay and make sure I got a fair trial. At the same time, though, I didn’t want to assume I knew what was going on in his head - not when my life was riding on it…

It wasn’t like I could claim to have any insight into the man’s mind, after all. He’d barely been a character in my story - more of a plot device, really, just there to keep the story moving. I’d never put any thought at all into who he was as a person… Something I regretted now that I needed to decipher his intentions.

Releasing me was one thing, but why the hell was he having me attend the academy?!

“Yo!” called a familiar voice, as an armored hand intruded upon my field of vision and began to wave wildly back and forth.

“Bridgette,” I replied, turning around in order to greet the knight who was… way too close to me. I hurriedly backed up a few steps. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pick you up, of course!” Bridgette replied. “Or did you think the King was just going to let you wander around without supervision?”

“Like you supervised me last time?” I demanded, arching my eyebrow. “Draining half a bottle of alcohol and falling to the floor?”

“Okay, first of all, that was an act. Alcohol doesn’t hit the system that fast, you know?”

“So you weren’t drunk off your ass, then?” I asked, dubious.

“I mean, not at first, anyway… But that alcohol really was too strong! What the hell did you dose me with!?”

“Just some uber concentrated alcohol,” I replied. “But I’m not sure you can really refer to it as dosing you when you knew exactly what I was doing… If anything, I’d say you were hoisted by your own petard after being overconfident.”

“Yeah, well, look where that got you,” Bridgette replied. “Nearly dead! On my watch!”

“Is that last part the only bit you actually care about?” I demanded.

“Of course not!” Bridgette huffed. “Just because you’re infuriating doesn’t mean I want you to die. It’s not like you’re the actual Amelia or anything… Speaking of which, what am I supposed to call you, anyway?”

“Call me?” I asked, blinking at her blankly. “...Can’t you just stick to Amelia? It’s worked so far.”

“I mean, I guess,” Bridgette conceded, “but it might get kinda confusing, what with you trying to convince everyone you’re not Amelia and all.”

“That’s…” Okay, that was a fair point, actually… My original name wasn’t exactly unisex, though, let alone feminine, and as for picking a new one… Well, picking out a girl’s name would feel too much like giving up. Like I was just accepting this ‘girl’ label the demon had stuck on me. I was still a man on the inside, after all, and if possible I really wanted to get back to my original body…

…Or at least I felt like I should want that? Even though, to be honest, my current body felt way better than what I’d had before… I mean, it was younger for one thing. More fit. Prettier, too. Though that last part was kinda the problem? I mean, again, I was a guy. At the very least, I should probably try to masculinize myself a bit if I could… I mean, even if my body didn’t feel bad right now, I’d probably feel better as a guy, right? That was what I was used to after all…

“Just… Call me Amy,” I decided, in the end.

“That’s just Amelia shortened, though,” Bridgette pointed out.

“Yeah, but can you imagine the original Amelia letting anyone call her that?” I countered.

“Hmmm… Good point. Alright! Amy it is!” Bridgette nodded, as if satisfied, and then stepped closer to me again.

“H-hey!” I protested, as she leaned down and swept me off my feet, picking me up in a princess carry. “What’s the meaning of this!?”

“Well, I figured you’d want to get home first thing, your not-ladyship,” Bridgette replied. “And the fastest way I know to get you there is this!”

“…Fine,” I murmured, turning my head away from Bridgette in hopes of hiding my blush. “But does it have to be a princess carry?”

“It’s the easiest way to keep you protected from the winds!” Bridgette replied. “And it’s a better view.”

“A better view?” I asked. “At the speeds you run, I probably won’t be able to see anything!”

“A better view for me,” Bridgette clarified. “You’re kinda cute, in a mean sorta way.”

“What do you - I don’t even know what that means!” I protested. Which you’d think would keep me from feeling embarrassed about it, but for some reasons my cheeks were only getting warmer.

Bridgette just laughed - and then she ran. Except, contrary to my expectations, she wasn’t running at hyper speeds. Rather, she seemed to be moving perfectly normally - or so I thought at least, until I realized that everything around us had slowed to a standstill.

“What… is this how you perceive the world when you’re running?” I asked. I’d never really written any details on Bridgette’s powers, other than that she could move at the speed of the wind. I had no idea it was like time stopped for her.

“You can move during this!?” Bridgette demanded.

“…Should I not be able to?”

“I mean, nobody else can,” Bridgette replied. “Or nobody else has? I wonder why?”

“Maybe I’m special?” I suggested, uncertain. “Like… because I’m from another world?”

“I mean, I guess that could be it,” Bridgette replied, hesitantly. “But… I think it might be something worse.”

“What do you mean worse?” I asked, worried now.

Bridgette shrugged, maneuvering through the frozen crowd with practiced ease, even despite having me in her arms. “I mean, I could be wrong…”

“Could you just tell me? We both know you’re smart enough to figure out most anything if you really want to.”

“I am?” Bridgette asked, blinking. “Wait. How would you even know that?”

“Because I created… or at least wrote about this world.”

“And about me in particular?” Bridgette asked.

“A little? You were more of a side character than anything, but you did get a lot of screen time - so to speak…”

“Not sure what a screen is in this context, but I think I get your drift… So what? You had a view into this world or something? Because that’s kinda creepy.”

“No, I just… wrote what I thought was a fictional story? And it just happened to match an actual world out there? If what the demon said is true, anyway…”

“That sea of possibility thing?” Bridgette asked. “Because it seems more like they were saying that everything is happening somewhere.”

“Like I said, you’re better suited to figure it out than me,” I confessed, a little ruefully. I wasn’t sure whether to be proud of my creation, or jealous. Or neither, seeing as how she might not be my creation at all.

“Right… Well, about the whole bad news thing…”

“Go on?” I prodded, nervously.

“Well, you see, in order to shield you from the wind, I’m actually pushing a small amount of my own power into you. Just enough to have a surface level effect - or at least it’s only supposed to be enough to have a surface level effect…”

“But you think it’s doing something… deeper?”

“Something like that!” Bridgette agreed. “But the more important part is why - see, the whole reason it’s ‘surface level’ is because usually surface level is all it can be. Your own magic should be pushing back against it - keeping it from sinking any deeper than that. At least unless you’re specifically doing something to stop it?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I replied, a little nervous as to where this was going.

“In that case, the most likely answer is that you just don’t have magic to push back - except that’s crazy, because everyone has magic to push back.”

“Unless it’s because I’m from another world…” I said, frowning. “Maybe… maybe it has something to do with my soul?”

“Well, your core is thought to exist on both a physical and metaphysical plane, sorta,” Bridgette replied. “A lot of people think that the unique gifts people are sometimes born with - like my wind powers - are the result of how a soul and body intermix…”

“Wait, really?” I asked. “The soul has an effect on your powers?” Was that why I hadn’t seen even a glimpse of Amelia’s future sight ability? But I could still tell if people were lying… Maybe… maybe my soul was more compatible with that trait, somehow? “...Wait. Before that… What’s a core?”

“We have to start with that?” Bridgette demanded. “Wait, does that mean you don’t even have cores where you’re from?”

“Considering I have no idea what you’re talking about… I wanna say no?”

“It’s where our mana is generated! Where it’s stored! In every sapient person, there’s a core.”

“A core…” I frowned. “Wait, do you mean like… a beast core?”

“That’s what they’re called when they’re found in monsters,” Bridgette replied.

“Yeah, but monsters are just animals that are able to cast magic, right? I wrote that they all develop a core near their hearts!”

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around, though?” Bridgette remarked. “In that they’re able to use magic because they form a core. Except most of them aren’t really good at using magic, so all that mana builds up inside them until they start mutating… kinda the opposite of what’s going on with you, miss no-magic.”

“Assuming you’re actually right about me not having magic…” I wasn’t so sure I bought that, though. My ability to tell when someone was lying was almost definitely fueled by magic, after all.

“Well, I guess you’ll be able to find out for sure during Core Carving class tomorrow,” Bridgette replied.

“Core Carving class?” I was starting to feel like a bit of a parrot, but I couldn’t help myself - I was learning so many new terms! 

“You know, where we learn how to most efficiently carve spells into our cores? I thought you said you wrote about this world - about us.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t exactly put a lot of thought into the magic system… or the classes…”

“Then what did you write about?” Bridgette asked.

“Mostly? Pauline’s struggles in a school where everyone was set against her, and her romance. And the occasional adventure where the prince had to save her from some dastardly plan.”

“So you stalked Pauline?” Bridgette asked. “Then how’d you end up stuffed into Amelia’s body?”

“You’d have to ask that demon… But what do you mean about the Core Carving class helping me?”

“Well, one of the tools we use for it is a Core Seer - an enchanted box of sorts that lets you see a representation of your core in physical space. That way, the teacher can help you figure out how to make the most efficient use of your space, and plan out what spells you want to have and where you want to fit them and all that… and more relevantly to you it also reads mana levels in the core.”

“So we’ll be able to see if I’m generating mana?”

“Yup!” Bridgette confirmed. “Now aren’t you glad the king’s sending you to school?”

~~~

Author'sNotes

Another chapter written on a sleepless night - hopefully it's good despite that? (Or maybe even because of it... sometimes it's easier to let the plot just flow when sleep deprived, after all. DX)

One more chapter and we'll be caught up with what's public (for this series.) Patreon has up to chapter 9 available for as little as $1 though!

If there was one complaint I had about the time-stopped world Bridgette had pulled me into, it was how damn quiet it was. I couldn’t even hear our own footsteps, and I was half-convinced her wind-magic was doing something to cover up sound on top of everything else.

I had no idea how Bridgette normally dealt with it - especially over long distances, which this thankfully wasn’t. The hearing had actually taken place in the academy itself, and while the grounds were fairly expansive, it didn’t take all that long for Bridgette to reach them, even with me in her arms.

“Here we go, your not-ladyship!” Bridgette declared, “Home sweet-”

“Welcome home, Lady Amelia,” a new voice interjected, drawing my attention to the door. I hadn’t even noticed it opening. Proof that Bridgette had come to a stop, I guess.

“How did you even know we were here!?” Bridgette demanded. “I didn’t make a sound!”

“I always know when my Lady is home,” Clara replied, opening the door further before curtsying towards me. “If my Lady would come inside?”

“Not without me she isn’t!” Bridgette declared, before I could speak. “I’ve been ordered to keep an eye on her.”

“My Lady?” Clara asked, turning towards me.

“I’m not your lady,” I replied. Clara just stared at me with those calm blue eyes of hers, not saying a word. “I mean it. I… Amelia - the real Amelia, that is - summoned a demon. She made a deal with them, and made me take her place.”

“I know.”

“Bwuh?” came from Bridgette. For my part, I merely arched an eyebrow, thanking Amelia for the skilled poker face she’d apparently left behind.

“Forgive me, my Lady, but I did see the summoning circle Lady Amelia drew in the basement. Having also attended your would-be execution, and having listened to your pleas, it wasn’t hard to put together what happened. Again I must ask for forgiveness, for I must admit that it was somewhat relieving to know that my true mistress wasn’t in any danger.”

“Then why are you greeting me like that?” I demanded.

“And how did you get back here before us?” Bridgette demanded. “Before me?”

“A maid must always be prepared to meet her mistress,” Clara replied, curtsying before turning back towards the door. “Now, shall I prepare the guest room for Miss Bridgette, my Lady?”

“I thought we just covered the fact that I’m not your lady!” I protested. “Hell, I’m not even a lady - I’m a-” I froze, a chill running down my spine as Clara’s gaze went cold.

“A man?” she demanded. “In my Lady’s body?” Her fingers twitched, as if she were grasping at something. “What perverted thoughts have you had, looking at her, you-”

“Hey, hey!” Bridgette interjected. “No need to look at her like that! She’s a lady now isn’t she? And it’s not like she asked to be stuck in your Lady’s body.”

“...I suppose that’s true,” Clara said, her expression turning placid once more. “Very well. As long as you continue to comport yourself as a proper lady, I have no room for complaints.”

“Uh… what was that about?” I asked, a little nervous now, as I looked between the two girls.

“It’s nothing,” Clara said. “The thought of a filthy man having perverted thoughts about my Lady’s body simply temporarily put me into a murderous rage. So long as you continue to act as the proper lady, however, I’m sure there will be no problems.”

“That’s… ow! What was that for!?” I glared at Bridgette, who’d kicked me before I could complain.

“Just got the feeling you were about to get yourself in trouble, that’s all,” Bridgette replied. “Also, you still haven’t answered your maid about the whole preparing me a room thing?”

“That’s… she’s not my maid! I’m not Amelia!”

“No,” Clara agreed, “but you are in her body, and it is my job to make sure that body remains in pristine condition, in case its owner ever decides to reclaim it. Unless you’d rather tell me where the real Amelia is?”

“That’s… I don’t know,” I admitted. “The demon wouldn’t say…”

“Then until such time as she returns, I will be in your care, my Lady.”

“You can… uh… call me Amy, if you want?” I suggested. “That’s what I told Bridgette to call me, anyway.”

“I could never, my Lady,” Clara replied, shaking her head. “You may not be Lady Amelia, but so long as you wear her skin I shall be in your service. As such, it is only right that I refer to you properly.”

“But I’m not even a real Lady!” I protested, only to pause when Clara’s eyes started to darken again. “I mean in the noble sense! The duke disowned me.”

“I see…” Clara murmured, calming down. “Then it is all the more important for my Lady to keep up appearances. It is possible she will wish to marry into money after her return, so it’s best we be prepared for that… indeed, whatever path towards power she chooses, I suspect looking good in the public eye can only be of benefit… you will purport yourself as a proper Lady, won’t you?”

I nodded, a little terrified by Clara’s big smile, which failed to reach her chilly blue eyes.

“Good. Now that that is settled - should I prepare a room for Miss Bridgette?”

“Please,” I squeaked out.

“Right away, my Lady.” Clara curtsied again, before rising - and proceeding to stand perfectly still.

“Um…”

“No extra preparations are needed for a girl of commoner origins who purports to be a knight in training but allows her charge to nearly die. The guest room is ready by default, in any case.”

“You… Then why did you make us go through all that!?” Bridgette demanded.

“To see how my Lady would respond, of course.” Clara replied. “One can not serve a mistress she does not know. Therefore it is my duty to learn everything about my Lady - in detail.”

“If nothing needs to be done, can we just go inside?” I interrupted. “My legs feel like cooked noodles after today, and I just wanna collapse on a couch.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Clara responded, curtsying again. “If you’ll follow me this way?”

I shot a glance Bridgette’s way, but only received a shrug in response. After a moment, I gave in with a sigh and nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

Clara didn’t need any more instruction than that. She simply led us into the house, silently guiding us to the sitting room and its couch.

I promptly collapsed upon it - much to Clara’s apparent distaste, as she pursed her lips together.

“At least keep your legs together, my Lady?” she begged, stepping towards me as if to physically remedy the issue.

“Sorry,” I replied, blushing a little as I complied, closing my legs together and contorting my body into something of a “Z” shape upon the wide couch.

“I’ll go get some refreshments, while you decide what to do with the day, my Lady,” Clara declared, before heading off towards the kitchen.

“…Strange maid you got,” Bridgette muttered, watching her go.

“I don’t think she’s usually like this,” I replied. “Or at least I didn’t write her like that…” Then again, I never paid much attention to her writing, either. She was simply Amelia’s loyal maid. Very loyal, apparently. “I wonder if she even realizes I have no way to pay her…”

“Payment isn’t necessary, my Lady,” Clara replied, striding back into the room with a plate of what looked to be freshly made cookies, and two cups of steaming hot tea. “I do what I do because I want to.”

“You want to serve me?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I want to serve Lady Amelia,” Clara replied. “Alas, the only way I can do so for the time being is to keep her body and image in perfect condition… which means serving you.”

“For some definition of serve, anyway,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I get the feeling you’ll be demanding more of me than the other way around…”

“Nonsense,” Clara replied. “So long as you continue to comport yourself as I’ve seen so far, I doubt we’ll run into any problems. I simply wish to make sure you greet each day in the proper attire, and with appropriate makeup.”

“Makeup?” I complained, screwing up my nose. “Isn’t that a bit… girly?”

“As I keep saying, you are a girl now,” Bridgette pointed out. “You might as well present yourself as one.”

“That’s not how it works,” I grumbled. “How you look doesn’t determine who you are. And I’m a man!”

“Maybe, but you really don’t look like one,” Bridgette countered.

“You aren’t acting like one, either,” Clara noted. “In fact, your speech patterns and body language are almost indistinguishable from Lady Amelia’s. Only the content of your speech has changed.”

“Yeah, well, the content’s the important part, isn’t it?” I pointed out. “Just like my content is still… male, or something? I don’t know, the metaphor’s getting away from me a little bit.”

“No, I think I get it,” Bridgette mused. “You’re saying that even if you look and sound like a girl, you’re still you…”

“Exactly!”

“And being a man is part of that?” Clara asked. “Was it really that important to you?”

“Well… I don’t know about important… I just sorta… I mean, I was a born as a man, and it’s not like I disliked it, so…”

“Does that mean you didn’t like it, either?” Bridgete asked.

“I mean, nobody likes being a man - or a woman! You just sorta… are. Aren’t you?”

Now it was Bridgette and Clara’s turn to exchange a look.

“I mean… I guess?” Bridgette said, hesitantly, after a moment. “I never really put much thought into it, but…”

“I for one am grateful to have been born a woman,” Clara stated. “For one thing, I would not have been able to get so close to Lady Amelia had I been born otherwise… but also, the idea of being in the body of a man feels inherently disturbing to me.”

“I mean, I don't know about disturbing, but I gotta admit I wouldn't wanna be stuck like that… guess this must be pretty hard on you, come to think of it, huh?”

“Well, I don't know about hard,” I demurred, hesitantly. “It doesn't feel bad to be seen as a girl, or anything. I just… know I'm not one.”

“Then do you want us to treat you like a guy?” Bridgette asked.

“A guy… in my Lady Amelia's body,” Clara all but whispered, her voice chilling and cold.

“N-no! I mean… I don't think I care much? I think the demon must have done something to my head to make me feel comfortable being treated as a girl… I mean, if anything, the idea of being treated like a guy feels a bit off - just because of how I look, you know?”

“You're the one who said looks don't matter, though!” Bridgette pointed out.

“Yeah, well… I never claimed it was logical, alright?”

“A man. In Lady Amelia's body…” Clara repeated.

“L-let's just forget about that, alright?” I suggested. “I mean, it's probably easier all around for me to pretend I'm - I mean, present myself as a lady. Since it's not like it feels bad or anything. I mean, if anything, it's kinda nice to know anyone and everyone who looks at me will just see a pretty young woman…”

“‘Young’?” Bridgette parroted. “Does that mean you were older before?”

“Well… thirty-four…” I admitted.

“A perverted old man in Lady Amelia's body….”

“I wasn't that old!”

“That's the part you have a problem with?” Bridgette demanded.

“A-and I'm not a pervert either, alright? I didn't ask to be stuck in this body, but now I am, and… and…”

“And she has Amelia’s brain,” a new, annoyingly familiar voice added. “The brain of a cis woman in her twenties. And considering the effects hardware can have upon a person…”

“Are… are you saying that I'm okay being a girl because I literally have the brain of a girl?”

“If that's how you choose to interpret it…” the demon murmured. “But I'd focus more on the fact that you have the brain and hormones of a proper twenty year old.”

“And I'd like to focus on how the hell you're okay with this demon just popping in?” Bridgette interrupted.

“I mean, it's not like I have a way to stop them…” I muttered.

“Should I prepare another bedroom?” Clara asked - her voice having thankfully returned to normal.

“No need… I'm just here for a cookie,” the demon replied, snatching one off the plate. “And to leave this behind.” Saying so, they produced a vial of what looked to be tar. “Another security potion. In case you nearly die again.”

“And you're giving me this, why exactly?”

“Consider it payment for the cookie,” the demon declared, before turning away from me and stepping out of existence. Still, their voice lingered a moment longer. “Delicious…”

Bridgette glared at the place where the demon had been for a moment before eventually turning her stare on Clara. “When the hell did you have time to make cookies, anyway?”

~~~

Author's Notes

I felt inspired to tackle Clara the day I wrote this. To the point where I ended up finishing this chapter in bed, typing on my phone because I had a lizard in my lap and no immediate access to a laptop.

Unfortunately feeling rather Meh at the moment, but I still managed to get out chapter 9 for Patreon! Which means I can finally unveil this chapter and bask in the glorious reactions of my readers as I unleash the yandere maid. Let me know what you think?

Will try to get chapter 8 up tomorrow. Patreon is up to chapter 10.

Amy

“Were they lying!?” Bridgette demanded, her pale green eyes drilling into mine.

“Wh-what?” I asked, nearly dropping the cookie I’d taken back onto its tray. “What do you mean? The demon?”

“Of course the demon!” Bridgette confirmed. “Were they lying? They had to be, right? About only being here for a cookie?”

“I… Maybe,” I admitted, hating the hesitancy in my own voice. “I’m not sure how much I can trust my powers, though… I mean, they didn’t go off when that girl, Bean, lied to me - though I guess she didn’t lie per se, so…”

“What does Bean have to do with any of this?” Bridgette asked.

“Nothing! It’s just… With her, my power didn’t go off because she didn’t technically say anything that was a lie. Meanwhile the demon… Well, I think they deliberately told a lie? Except it wasn’t really a lie, per se…”

“How can something be both a lie and not a lie, my Lady?” Clara asked, as she finished pouring my tea. Where she got the tea cup from, let alone the pot of tea… I decided not to question it.

“Saying it was just to get a cookie was definitely a lie,” I explained, “but then he followed it up with how he was also there to deliver something - which is fine, except I don’t really have a way to know if there was yet another goal, or… Or… Am I making any sense?” I asked, looking between Clara and Bridgette.

“No, my Lady.”

“Kinda?” Bridgette said, to my surprise. “You’re saying your power’s really nitpicky, right? It tells you that he lied about ‘just’ being there for a cookie, but not which part of it he lied about, or whether there was more motivation than just that and delivering the thing.”

“Or if the cookie was even part of his motivation at all,” I confirmed. “Which is… kinda freaking me out, actually?”

“My Lady… It’s just a cookie,” Clara remarked, frowning at me.

“No, I know, but… think about what that means. The ability to tell truth from lies is the only magic I have - at all maybe - and now I’m realizing that it’s full of holes… and the worst part is, I can’t help but feel like they let me in on this flaw on purpose, just to mess with me…”

“Or to help you,” Bridgette remarked, her lips pursed into a thin line. “Though why the hell a demon would be so bent on saving your annoying butt, I have no idea.”

“Don’t look at me… I’m just an innocent bystander in all this!”

“Perhaps that is the point?” Clara suggested, causing me and Bridgette both to stop and turn our heads towards her. “Forgive me, my Lady, but I took the liberty of reading through some of Lady Amelia’s literature on demons. I thought it prudent someone read about it, before some church inquisitor or another came to burn the books.”

“That knowledge is forbidden for a reason,” Bridgette pointed out, scowling. “If anyone and everyone knew how to summon demons-”

“Then the world would surely be an even worse state than it already is for us common folk?” Clara countered, arching an eyebrow. “Not that I particularly care, Miss Bridgette, but I’d think someone with your background would understand that the stability the church tries to protect is mostly for itself and the rich.”

“It’s because of my background that I know how dangerous demons can be. For everyone - noble and commoner alike.”

“As you say, miss Bridgette,” Clara replied, placidly. “You will be happy to know, in that case, that I did not bother to read about summoning them. I only sought to understand what might have happened to Lady Amelia.”

“And?” I asked, eager now. “Did you learn anything?”

“Very little,” she confessed, shaking her head. “The books were obtuse, and often spoke in religious overtones - the manuscripts of cults that simply happened to have instructions for working demonic rituals within them. I must praise Lady Amelia for piecing together disparate bits and pieces in order to form a proper summoning circle, but I fear it left us precious little of a trail to follow…. Except for this: demons are bound by laws.”

“That’s it?” I asked, disappointed.

“What do you mean that they’re ‘bound’?” Bridgette asked. “Like… there’s rules they literally can’t break?”

“I am unsure, Miss Bridgette,” Clara replied. “I only know that it is a recurring motif in everything I read. Demons have rules. Follow the rules, and your contract shall be completed safely. Don’t follow them, and who knows what will happen to you?”

“It didn’t complete that safely for Lady Amelia, though,” Bridgette pointed out.

“We don’t know that,” Clara replied, narrowing her eyes. “Without knowing the content of her wish, it’s impossible to know where she is, or in what state - but I choose to believe she is fine. Happy, even.”

“That’s great and all,” I interrupted, “but none of that seems to apply to me?”

“That is exactly the problem,” Clara declared, nodding. “You were not part of the contract, and yet you have become entangled in it through no fault of your own. As such, you are - in your own words - an ‘innocent bystander.’”

“And?” I asked, leaning forward a little.

Clara shrugged. “That is all I was able to learn for certain - but if I had to guess… I would say there are likely rules in place for how to deal with situations like yours, and that the demon’s behavior towards you has something to do with it.”

“Like what? They got in trouble with the cops for involving an innocent bystander or something?” I asked, disbelieving.

“Demons involve bystanders in their destruction all the time,” Bridgette pointed out, her own voice full of doubt.

“By our standards, yes,” Clara replied. “But what about from the demons’? If someone wishes for them to ‘destroy a village,’ and the people in the village suffer, that’s simply part of fulfilling the wish, is it not?”

“Absolutely horrid, and I hate it, but I guess the logic’s sound…” Bridgette reluctantly admitted. “But why wouldn’t that be the case here? Maybe Amelia’s wish involved Amy, somehow.”

“It’s possible…” Clara confirmed. “But it’s hard to imagine what wish she could make that would drag in someone she didn’t even know existed… Without knowing what she wished for, especially.”

“Well, I’m not exactly an entirely uninvolved party,” I admitted, hesitantly. “I’m a writer, where I’m from. And I wrote a story about… about people similar to… well you. All of you. That’s how the demon found me they said…”

“You wrote about us?” Clara asked, frowning. For a moment, I thought she was going to call me a creepy pervert again, but when her eyes met mine they were more serious than I’d ever seen. “Then would you happen to have written what Lady Amelia’s wish was, during your creepy perving?”

“I wasn’t literally looking at you or anything!” I complained. “I was just writing something fictional that just happened to match up to this world!”

“Uh-huh,” Bridgette confirmed, clearly trying not to laugh. “But seriously - do you know?”

“I… Yeah,” I confirmed, after a moment’s hesitation. “I know it, at least. She wished to be happy, somewhere far away from here.”

“Wait… Somewhere far away?” Bridgette asked. “Like where you’re from?”

“Well… Yeah, I guess?”

“You cannot possibly be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting,” Clara stated, clearly horrified.

“What? What am I missing, guys?” I demanded.

“The possibility of her being in your body, dummy!” Bridgette declared. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew what her wish was sooner!?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m a hundred percent sure of it!” I protested. “Everything keeps going different than I expect it to here - why should I think her wish was exactly the same as I was planning to write? And - and she asked to be happy anyway! There’s no way she’s happy as me!”

“…It’s true that I struggle to see Lady Amelia appreciating being in a man’s body,” Clara murmured, looking thoughtful.

“Yeah, can’t see it either,” Bridgette admitted. “Plus, that would just make Amy a proper victim, right? Not just an ‘innocent bystander’ or whatever.”

“You’re right…” Clara confirmed, before shaking her head and sighing. “In the end, I suppose we simply don’t know enough to be sure of anything… do we?”

“So we’re back where we started?” I asked, exasperated. “With no new info at all?”

“Well, you know that you have a flaw in your powers now,” Bridgette pointed out. “And I know that you’re… probably not working closely with that demon or whatever, for all that they seem awfully interested in helping you.”

“You thought that was a possibility!?” I demanded.

“Sorry! I’m a knight. They’re a demon. I… have history with demons.”

“Right… fine…” I muttered, shaking my head. “Whatever. I’m going to bed, alright?”

“I’ll prepare a nightgown for you, my Lady,” Clara replied. “And a bath. Which I hope you will not take too long in?”

“I don’t need a nightgown!” I protested. “Or a bath…” Though it did sound nice.

“I must insist, my Lady. Unless you’d prefer to be scrubbed by someone else?”

“I can handle it!”

“I’m sure you can, my Lady,” Clara replied, in a way that sounded vaguely disproving. “I do trust you will not take too long with my Lady’s body, though, correct my perverted Lady??”

“What the hell did I do to get downgraded to a pervert in your eyes!?”

Clara opened her mouth, and then closed it, before performing a curtsey. “Perhaps I’ve been discourteous, my Lady. It is just the thought of a man seeing my Lady’s body… even if that man is my Lady herself…”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for this,” I pointed out. “I didn’t want to be in this body - or have these hormones! N-not that I’m going to act on them, or do anything, or anything, but… you know…”

“Know, my lady?” Clara asked. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean. What are ‘hormones’?”

“They’re… they’re what the brain pumps out to make you… you… Well, actually they’re for a whole lot of things, but one of the things they do is make you… uh… horny?”

Clara’s mouth began to twist into a frown, again.

“N-not that I’m particularly horny! And if I was, it would only be because I’m in Amelia’s body - I mean, because the demon said I have the same hormones as Amelia! The same brain as Amelia! I’m basically just Amelia, except me, alright?”

Clara sighed. “I do not entirely understand what you're talking about, but… I will… hold back from calling you perverted unless given reason. But in return, I expect you not to give me a reason.”

“That’s fine!” I confirmed, quickly. “I mean, I never intended to give you a reason, in the first place, so…”

Clara nodded, before gesturing to the left. “The bath is this way, my Lady.”

“Right…” I murmured, thankful for the change of subject. So thankful that I strode right towards the bath and started stripping - though as I did, something finally occurred to me.

“Hey Clara… When did Amelia tell you about her truth telling powers, anyway?”

“She didn’t,” Clara replied, from the other side of the door.

“She didn’t?” I asked. “But… I mean, I kinda forgot you didn’t already know when I first brought it up, but then you took it so casually I thought you… you really didn’t know?”

“I did not say that I didn’t know it. Just that she did not tell me.”

“...Huh…” I muttered. “Is that how you’ve managed to avoid activating her power, all this time? Because you know about it?”

“I avoided lying to Lady Amelia out of loyalty,” Clara replied, stiffly. “If I ever made use of the intricacies of her power, it was only to avoid accidentally setting it off like the demon apparently purposefully did. My Lady is not one to trust easily, and to trigger her power at all is… best avoided.”

“Right… You uh… you really are loyal to her, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“Can I ask why?” I pressed.

“...I am your servant, my Lady. If you press, I will answer.”

“And if I don’t?”

There was no response from the other side of the door.

~~~

Author's Notes

Author's Notes

Kinda had to fight through depression in order to write this chapter, which in turn left me questioning the quality... Especially since I feel like it's a bit of a slow chapter? A friend of mine insists that it's fine, though - and that I need to stop being so hard on myself, and that it's fine to have a not particularly exciting chapter every now and
again, which is... fair? Still hate making everyone wait for a chapter like this, though... (Though people's comments have at least convinced me it's been well received.)

The good news is the next two chapters pick up the pace a bit, with chapter 10 in particular being a bit special to me. Both can be read on Patreon for as little as $1 - or you can just wait here, and I'll post them for free eventually~! (I also started posting on Royal Road, by the way. Just in case anyone wants to leave a comment or review over there.

The night passed smoothly from there, with me donning the white nightgown Clara provided with only minimal complaint, before laying down to sleep on a mattress much too large for me. It was rather soft, though, and the blanket was warm, and I was slumbering through the night before I knew it.

I don’t remember what I dreamed that night. I rarely do. It was probably a nightmare, though, seeing as how I woke up drenched in sweat… but whatever terrors I might have seen in the night were nothing more than hazy recollections by morning, forgotten entirely by the time I’d cleaned myself up.

“I’ve prepared an appropriate outfit for you, my Lady,” Clara told me, once I’d exited the bath.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that outfit contains pants?” I asked, my tone a little wistful.

Predictably, Clara shook her head. “Pants would ill suit you, my Lady, but fret not - the outfit I’ve chosen is designed to strike fear into the heart of lesser beings.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” I confessed. “I mean, scaring people is rather the opposite of what I want, isn’t it? If I want to keep my head, it’s important people know that I’ve changed.”

“And yet it’s because you’ve changed that you’re in danger, my Lady. The nobility at the school will most definitely look down upon you, and as for the commoners… Well, let’s just say that Amelia made enemies low and high. Many may see you as a viable target for their anger, regardless of whether you’re the real thing or not.”

“So your advice is… what? To go in with a flashy outfit and convince everyone that I’m still capable of kicking their asses if it comes down to it?”

“I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but… Yes, my lady. That is essentially my plan.”

I opened my mouth to protest again, only to seal my lips into a thin line a moment after. As much as I wanted to argue, Clara did seem to have a better grasp of the sociopolitical factors at play. Besides, it wasn’t like this was going to be my first time in a dress - I’d been wearing Amelia’s clothes from the very beginning, after all. The same clothes, in fact, from the moment I woke up, through the trial, right up until Clara gave me that nightgown to change into.

“…Fine,” I acquiesced, in the end. “But you’re going to have to help me with the clothing. I could barely even figure out how to take that other dress off.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Clara replied, immediately taking hold of my nightgown. “Arms up if you please?”

“I can handle this part by myself, at least!” I protested. Nevertheless, I raised my arms and allowed her to remove it.

“It’s faster this way,” Clara explained. “At least when you don’t complain.” From there, it was a flurry of activity I could hardly track. One second she had me holding up my arms so that she could slip the base of the new outfit over my head, then she was busy fiddling with clasps and buttons and ribbons and telling me to hold my breath while she tightened the corset a little and lift my feet to step into the strappy flats she provided. “No heels, this time. Not until we have some time for you to practice walking in them.”

“Fine by me,” I confirmed, not particularly wanting to be forced into heels. As if the dress and corset weren’t bad enough.

“Makeup, on the other hand…”

“No way!” I shouted. “Not happening.”

“Why not?” Clara asked, pursing her lips. “Because it’s too feminine? Do you think men don’t wear makeup, at least on occasion?”

“Well… I guess, but this doesn’t seem like any sort of occasion to me!” I protested.

“It’s your first day at the royal academy, my Lady. Your one and only chance to make a first impression upon the riffraff.”

“…You almost had me until that last part,” I admitted, “but no. I’m not going to be treating anyone like ‘riffraff.’ If anything, I’m pretty sure I’m at the bottom of the social hierarchy myself right now.”

“All the more reason to make an impression,” Clara pressed. “If you don’t show them you’re a force to be feared-”

“Then hopefully they won’t fear me,” I interrupted, firmly. “I’m trying to convince everyone I’m not Amelia, remember? Playing the part of a lady is one thing, but there’s no need for me to go scaring everyone by dressing up in the feminine equivalent of battle armor.”

“I think Miss Bridgette would object to the idea of battle armor not already being feminine,” Clara remarked. “I shall concede for the time being, however. It seems some lessons need to be learned the hard way…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” she replied, cryptically. “Now come downstairs, so I can serve you breakfast.”

I grumbled a little, not quite willing to let the conversation go, but in the end she succeeded in shooing me downstairs and seating me at the table, where Bridgette was already sitting with a glass of water and a plate of eggs.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I made myself breakfast already. You two were taking your time.”

“I do mind, actually,” Clara said, before I could reply. “We have limited supplies of food, and no way of getting more. If we aren’t careful, my Lady may soon be forced to start eating the free meals served in the cafeteria.”

“Those meals are good though!” Bridgette protested.

“Perhaps compared to what you’re used to, but my Lady has a more refined palette.”

“Like hell I do,” I interjected, frowning at Clara. “I’ll have you know I ate nothing but junk food back home. Besides, ‘free’ is a heady spice of its own, don’t you think? If I can eat without losing us any resources, I should go for it…”

“And be seen eating commoner food amidst commoners?” Clara asked. “Do you have any idea what that will do to your reputation?”

“I don’t,” I admitted, “but I hardly think it can get worse. You keep talking like I’m going to ruin Lady Amelia’s reputation, but you don’t seem to get that I don’t want anyone to think that I’m her.”

“You don’t have to be her,” Clara said, “but you underestimate the amount of scrutiny you’ll be under - and what it means for you. People won’t just be watching to see if you’re Amelia or not. They’ll be sorting you, in their minds, trying to figure out where you fit in the hierarchy. I simply don’t want you to be put at the bottom of it.”

“I am at the bottom, though,” I replied, firmly. “I have no money, no friends, no resources, and no people on my side except for you and Bridgette.”

“Hey, don’t you think putting me on your side is a bit presumptuous?” Bridgette complained. “I mean, sure, I don’t want to see you killed, but it’s not like we’re best buds or anything…”

“Then you’re against us?” Clara asked, her gaze darkening.

“Why can’t I just be a neutral party?” she asked. “Here to keep an eye on Amy, and make sure she doesn’t do anything too dumb.”

“Like going to class without makeup?” Clara suggested. “Or attending the cafeteria without even a single thought as to who might see her there, or what conclusions they might reach?”

“I was thinking more like stupid mistakes that might get her killed,” Bridgette replied. “But uh… no makeup? Wow. You really are kinda gorgeous, aren’t you?”

“M-me?” I squeaked out. “Gorgeous? I mean, I’m just… it’s Amelia who’s beautiful. I’m just… in her body.”

“Yeah, and that body is gorgeous,” Bridgette declared, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Clara was now glaring daggers at her.

“Can we please-” I began, only to be cut off by a sharp knock against the door.

“I’ll get it,” Clara declared. “Please, my Lady, sit down and appreciate your breakfast. It wouldn’t do for you to be seen opening a door while you still have a servant.”

“Very well,” I murmured, sighing. Not that my response actually mattered much, considering the fact that Clara was already heading towards the door…

People often underestimate the amount of work that goes into being a Lady’s maid. Everything I did had to be carefully considered, for everything I did reflected upon my Lady. The way I talked, the way I walked, and of course the way I served tea - all of it was important to the snobs who’d take any opportunity to look down upon my Lady and me.

That was why I worked so hard to perfect myself - to make myself the perfect servant for Lady Amelia. For her sake, I learned to walk with poise, talk with care, and serve tea perfectly. All for her.

She was gone, though. The Lady who I served, with all my heart and soul, had seemingly left this world - and me - behind. In her place was a buffoon, who wore her skin like it was their own. Wore it so well, in fact, that one could almost be excused for believing her to be the same person. She looked exactly like my Lady, after all. She walked like her, talked like her, even acted like her upon occasion - and yet they had nothing in common. Where Lady Amelia was calm and cold as ice, this person, this ‘Amy’ was like a chaotic flame, flickering and shifting, moving in every direction without ever actually getting anywhere. It would be a miracle if she didn’t burn herself out, and take my Lady’s body with her.

That was fine, though. It was Lady Amelia’s own decision to leave this world behind, after all, and I had to believe that whatever she planned it was going alright. That she was safe, and whole, and surviving. Perhaps one day she would call for me to join her - or else maybe she’d return to her original form. In either case, I had to be prepared. I had to be ready. I had to keep her vessel safe.

That’s what I told myself, at least, as I walked towards the door, and the person on its other side. They were still knocking, as if I hadn’t heard them already. I could tell them I was coming, but to raise my voice so early in the morning might be seen as improper… as could maintaining my silence, actually. In truth, if it was a noble, they’d probably find some reason to look down upon me simply for being a commoner.

A commoner who dared to get close to the shining star that was Lady Amelia… a miracle, in their eyes, no doubt. They could never understand what she saw in me. Why she was kind to me. Why she was always there for me. They never understood, for they looked at her and saw only the wealth and connections she represented. So they envied me for my connection to her, even as they strove to avoid her cruel attention. Because all they ever saw of Lady Amelia was her harshest side. Her cruellest actions.

All they ever saw was exactly what she wanted them to see.

I opened the door with a smile on my lips. One that refused to budge, even when I saw who was waiting for me on the other side: a brunette whose visage I had reason to know. She was, after all, on the student council. Not to mention the fact that she was technically the prince’s little sister, even if she was illegitimate.

“Lady Firanna,” I said, giving her a courtesy. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Oh, who knows? Perhaps I’m simply here to see what’s become of my dear brother’s fiancee.”

“I’m afraid his ex-fiancee is currently eating breakfast. May I take a message?”

“A message?” Firanna asked, tapping her chin. “Yes, I suppose I could leave it at that… but then I wouldn’t be able to see the despair upon that despicable woman’s face.”

“If it is my Lady Amelia you refer to, then I hope you know-”

“That her body is under new management?” Firanna interrupted. “Yes, I heard. Not that I believe a word. It is a rather clever plan, though, I admit… but nothing the ‘original’ Amelia couldn’t pull off.”

“As you say, Lady Firanna,” I replied, forcing myself to smile at her. She wasn’t wrong - my Lady Amelia could likely pull off such trickery. Except I’d know if she had. Nobody knew her like me, after all. “All the same, I must ask that you leave my Lady to her breakfast and pass a message onto me.”

“Oh, must I?” Firanna asked, before letting out a sigh. “Very well. I’m here first and foremost as a member of the student council, after all, rather than the royal family…”

“As you say, Lady Firanna,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

“Your Lady is to vacate the premises of this villa within one week. She’s being moved to a dorm more… fitting of her current station.”

“I see,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain neutral. “I will endeavour to get our-”

“Not our,” Firanna interrupted. “Her’s. Commoner dorms don’t include room for maids.”

I froze, unable - unwilling - to comprehend what I’d been told. I was to be separated from my Lady? How would I keep an eye on her? How would I ensure her safety? How would I make sure that her vessel remained in perfect condition?

“If her room’s too small, you two can always stay with me,” Bridgette declared. I hadn’t even heard her walking up.

“…Miss Bridgette,” Firanna said, her own smile turning sickly sweet. “I wasn’t aware you were here.”

“I was ordered to keep an eye on Amy,” Bridgette replied, shrugging. “Mostly just to keep her from getting herself killed again before her trial concludes. Still, I’d like to keep her close - like, super close. Which I guess means putting her and her maid up in my room, from the sounds of it…”

“Y-your room?” Feranna replied, her eyes flickering between Bridgette and another figure, behind her. ‘Amy,’ I realized, as I forced myself to calm down and analyze the situation I was in. She’d apparently ignored my directions in order to come to the door. Something to deal with later.

Being in Bridgette’s room would be… unpleasant. She was a knight in training, and her dorms would be with the other martial students. Still, as the adopted daughter of a baron, she was technically a member of the aristocracy. Which meant she’d likely have room for at least a servant in her quarters.

“I… I don’t think it would be appropriate at all to keep her in your room,” Firanna continued, even as I mused over the possibility. “I mean, really, aren’t you… isn’t it rather cramped in there? A-and you need room for your workout supplies, don’t you?”

“I do like working out at home…” Bridgette confirmed. “But as a knight, my duty is to keep an eye on Amy, first and foremost! If she got herself killed, I’d never forgive myself! Not to mention the fact that your father might not forgive me either…”

“R-right… you… Nothing can happen to…to ‘Amy’ you said?”

“Uh-huh,” Bridgette confirmed. “She’s really not the Amelia you know. Trust me. Way less evil - and less smart. Actually, I think she’s sorta something of an idiot sometimes?”

“I’m right here, you know!” my Lady complained, her hands on her hips.

“See what I mean? Totally can’t read a room.”

“R-right!” Lady Firanna laughed. Hard. “Right. Can’t read a room… how funny…”

“Riiiight… So… is that all you wanted?” Bridgette asked.

“No. I mean yes! I mean… Well, there was something I was going to say, but…”

“Is there a reason you can’t say it now?” my Lady asked, frowning. “I’m here to receive any message you want to deliver.”

“Well… yes, it’s just…” Lady Firanna’s eyes flicked back to Bridgette. “I-I think I’ll tell you later. After classes. Just… just make sure you get your stuff together, to-to move into… or maybe…. Maybe I was a bit too hasty? Y-yes. Maybe I can at least extend the duration of your stay here, until it’s time for your trial…”

“Really?” my Lady asked, frowning. “I didn’t hear everything, but it seemed like you were pretty intent on kicking me out a second ago.”

“Yes, well… things change… learn to read the room, hmm?” she said, before turning on her heel and strutting out the door.

“That was… Odd…” my Lady murmured, blinking at Lady Firanna’s back.

“Indeed,” I confirmed. “I’ve never seen Lady Firanna act like that before…”

“Really?” Bridgette asked. “She seemed pretty normal to me…”

“Right…” my Lady said. “Why don’t we feed ourselves, and then get to… classes? Are there classes today?”

“There are, my Lady,” I confirmed. “I’ve already prepped the proper textbooks for today’s lessons.”

“Assuming her lessons haven’t changed,” Bridgette pointed out. “If they’re shifting her dorm, they might be putting her in commoner classes, too…”

“Commoner classes?” my Lady asked. “You mean they segregate those too?”

“It’s not actually as bad as it sounds,” Bridgette replied. “Most commoners - even rich ones - don’t have the same level of education as the average noble. They need remedial classes to catch up…”

“And yet the teachers assigned to commoners are notably subpar,” I remarked, unable to help myself. “As a one-time commoner yourself, miss Bridgette, you of all people should know that the division between commoners and the nobility is hardly so simple.”

“I do need remedial lessons, though,” my Lady pointed out. “At least in some subjects.”

“Well, you’ll probably be getting them in all subjects,” Bridgette replied, “but come on. Let’s head after Lady Faranna and ask. Maybe that was the second thing she wanted to tell you? I swear, she’s always so scatterbrained…”

“Yes,” I murmured, eyeing Bridgette. “It certainly seemed that way, didn’t it?”

~~~
Author's Notes

Hmmm. Not sure how I feel about this one? It... didn't go the way I expected. In that not a lot actually happened. Still, I think it's an important chapter in terms of laying down some groundwork and introducing a new variable to the equation...

Next chapter we'll get to the interesting stuff with Core Carving Class, though, so look forward to it! (Or, if you're impatient, you could always read two chapters ahead on my Patreon for as little as $1~!)

In terms of writing, I'm probably going to be working on my Ranma fanfic next. Followed by more of this (or else Double Trouble, or maybe My Oni Love. We'll see.)

Amy

It turned out I did have a different schedule than the original Amelia. As Bridgette had expected, I’d been transferred to all commoner classes. Not only that, but something on my schedule had caused Bridgette to visibly flinch. Even worse, I’d been unable to get her to elaborate on it. She claimed, instead, that it would only cause me undue anxiety if I found out. More than just not knowing in her opinion, apparently.

She was telling the truth, too, from what I could tell. Which was more than I could say about some of my teachers - especially the one in charge of teaching us history. She’d advised me to read the textbook to catch up on where we were in class as best I could, and had otherwise ignored me, like most of the teachers so far. Which was fine by me, considering she didn’t even seem to believe the vast majority of the political propaganda she taught…

Math was easy at least, being largely focused on fractions and percentages. Schooling I’d… mostly forgotten, but which largely felt intuitive and easy to pick back up. Etiquette was a special sort of nightmare, though, in that the teacher kept picking on me to try and show off what I knew. She didn’t seem to believe that I didn’t know anything at all, especially since I seemed so proficient in it from the outside. I walked properly, talked properly, and - according to Clara - I even knew how to eat properly. Except it was all just muscle memory and instinct to me - something that came with the body. Nothing I could actually put into words, no matter how many times the teacher called on me.

Still, every class of the day had been worth getting to, in the end, for the sake of reaching the final one on my schedule: core carving. I was practically vibrating with excitement as I walked through the doors, a full… Well, I wasn’t sure how early I was, exactly, seeing as how I lacked a timepiece, but the school bell hadn’t rung yet and the room was still largely empty of students - except for one, who my eye couldn’t help but be drawn to in the absence of all others.

Pauline. The redheaded heroine’s yellow eyes met mine as I entered, shock registering on her face for a moment before she studiously looked away. It was obvious from the grimace on her lips that she didn’t want to see me, and I must admit that the feeling was quite mutual. I didn’t want to get dragged into any more trouble with the prince, or risk any accusations of meddling with their relationship. While I did want to thank her for saving my life, something told me the best thanks I could give her would be staying far away.

To that end, I took a seat on the opposite side of the room as her. We were both still in the front row, but there was no helping that - she was a teacher’s pet, and I actually cared about this class. I wanted to know what was up with my core! With my magic!

To that end, I found myself waiting in silence as more students filed into the room. Eventually, almost every seat was taken - though the ones closest to me were still noticeably bare. From what I could tell my fellow commoners weren’t quite sure what to make of the former noble in their midst. While the nobles knew full well that I’d been ousted from their ranks, the commoners had only rumors to go off of for the most part. In theory, I was a nobody now, with no power. But who knew what games nobles played, or what revenge I might enact if they tried to take advantage of my seeming weakness? Best to leave me alone.

…At least, that’s what I assumed to be going through their minds. It wasn’t like any of them were talking to me about it.

Regardless, time passed as the other students chatted amongst themselves, while I fought with my own trembling excitement at the class about to commence. The bell, at last, rang to announce the classes start, after what felt like at least ten minute’s wait, but was probably no more than two or three at best.

The teacher still wasn’t present. The students didn’t even bother to stop talking. Not until several minutes later, at least, when the door to the room opened again and a woman dressed entirely in black stepped inside.

The class went silent, in an instant. Nobody said a word as the woman strode up to her desk, pulled back the chair and sat calmly in it. Not even when she scanned the crowd, her eyes stopping briefly on Pauline, but no one else.

“You may all activate your core projectors and privacy screens. You already know what to do at this point, so get yourself to planning. And remember - you can carve on your own time. Preferably near an adult that cares more about your well being than I do.”

There was no response from my classmates. They all simply reached into the hollow space under their desk, pulled out some sort of square device, and pressed a button atop it - after which their forms and desks began to blur, until I could no longer make anything out.

Reaching into my own desk, I found a cube of my own, and a button. When I pressed it, I felt a tingling sensation shoot through me, traveling up my fingers and straight towards my heart.

Then it fizzled out, leaving me confused. I looked about, hoping to ask someone for help, but everywhere I looked people were simply blurred out. With no other option, I reluctantly raised my hand to catch the teacher’s attention.

She didn’t even bother to glance my way. Too focused on writing in a book, with a quill.

“Um… teacher?” I called out, eventually. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Ask one of your deskmates, then,” she replied, still not looking up. “It’s simple enough.”

“I don’t have any deskmates,” I replied. “And everyone’s already got their privacy projectors or whatever up, anyway.”

A few seconds passed without response, and for a moment I thought she was planning to ignore me. Eventually, however, she put her quill down and lifted her head to glare at me. “You are Lady Amelia, are you not?”

“That’s… I’m not…”

“Not a Lady anymore, yes, but the knowledge you have should still exist, no? Use it. Unless you’re so desperate to drag me into your schemes that you’d show me your core?”

“It’s not a scheme!” I insisted. “I truly do not know how to use this device, of yours - it fizzled out when I attempted it.”

“Fizzled out?” She frowned, then sighed. “Very well. If you insist upon being a bother… Just know that I’ll have no problem reporting what I see to the king.”

“Good,” I declared, placing my finger upon the cube’s button again. Once more I felt energy traveling through me - and once more it fizzled. “Perhaps then people will begin to believe me.”

The teacher frowned, looking between me and the cube. “And you say that it ‘fizzled’? You felt the energy go through you, then?”

“I did,” I confirmed. “Do you think it might be broken?”

“It must be…” she replied, frowning. “Unless…” She turned to look at me, gray eyes drilling into mine with surprising intensity. Then she moved, snatching up my wrist and closing her hand about it like a snake catching a mouse in its jaws.

Again, I felt a spark of energy run through me, striking against something in my chest. This time it didn’t fade, though, but instead seemed to spread around whatever it had struck. Not my heart, I soon realized - not unless my heart had turned into a perfect sphere.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “A truly blank core… Could it be? Your story… You truly aren’t Amelia, are you?”

“I’ve been going by Amy,” I told her, trying - and failing - to extricate myself from her grasp. “Now could you please release me? Whatever you’re doing, it feels… weird.”

“Of course,” the teacher replied, giving me a wide smile. “My apologies.”

“…What’s with that smile?” I demanded, finally pulling myself free from her suddenly unresisting grasp. “You’re creeping me out.”

“Nothing, nothing… it’s just that I think we got off on the wrong foot, is all. I am Tereesa Devulchas. Professor Devulchas, if you please. The best theoretical core carver in the kingdom of Olithia.”

“The best?” I asked, frowning at her. “Then why are you teaching a class for commoners? Why not the prince?”

“Because helping the prince would be boring,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “That boy grew up with the best core carving tutors available - myself excluded, at least. He’s had his core carvings planned out for him since he was old enough to use a projector properly, most likely. What point would there be in serving him?”

“So you want to work with commoners because they didn’t have tutors helping them?” I asked.

“What? No. Don’t be stupid. I mean, yes, I suppose it would be a challenge to work around their haphazard carvings, but quite frankly I find it beneath me to do something so mundane… Besides, my specialty lies in theoretical models - things beyond the grasp of most commoners, even those working here. No, there’s only ever been one student actually worth teaching, in this class - except now there’s two, and I couldn’t be any happier for the change.”

“Two?” I asked, a sudden feeling of foreboding descending upon me. “Who’s the other one?”

“Pauline, of course - the light magic bearer with a healing expression, if you’ll believe it. They say light users make the best healers, you know - and yet it’s surprisingly rare for them to specialize in healing. Far too many focus on offense, instead. Some say it’s because it takes a gentle soul to gather healing magic - something that Pauline certainly fails to disprove at the very least… though whether she’s truly gentle, or just a push-over, I’ll leave it to you to say.”

“Me?” I asked, even as that foreboding feeling began to crystalize within my heart. “I don’t think me and Pauline will be interacting much, so-”

“Nonsense!” Professor Tereesa interjected. “As my star pupils, it’s only natural that the two of you will be sitting together, going forward - for my own convenience, that is.”

“And if I refuse?” I asked, dreading the answer already.

Tereesa smiled, again - but where before it had been almost sickly sweet, now there was something terrifyingly wicked about it. “It seems to me that you know surprisingly little about core carving… Tell me, then - do you know how to carve your core, at all?”

“Well… Not exactly… but I’m sure I could get someone to tell me.”

“I’m sure you could,” Tereesa agreed. “If you’re willing to waste your potential.”

“Waste my potential?”

“That’s right,” the teacher confirmed, with a more normal smile this time. “Your unlimited potential. Do you even realize how impossible an existence you are? A grown woman, with a perfectly intact core?”

“I… No? I mean, I guess I can see it being pretty rare, but-”

“Not rare,” Tereesa interrupted. “Impossible. Magic is too natural a part of us, too intertwined with our desires and our wants. Even babies will make spells, in their infancy - usually little harmless cantrips meant to entertain them. It takes up little real estate on the core, but it’s still there. Little breaks in the surface that must be worked around when planning out their core’s final form. But you? Your core doesn’t have the slightest blemish in it! It’s perfectly smooth. That means there’s nothing to work around - nothing that might interfere with the carving. Your core is a blank canvas, and if we carve it right we’ll be able to take advantage of every inch of it…”

“That’s… alright. So you’re saying I can fit more spells than most? Be more efficient?”

“In theory,” Tereesa confirmed. “But it goes beyond that. You could, in theory, do what has only been theorized until now. A core carving of my own creation, that’s proved impossible to implement. One that would allow you untold power.”

“Untold power?” I swallowed. My mind couldn’t help but flash back to my time in the alleyway, with those thugs. If I’d had ‘untold power’ back then, would I have been able to fight my way out of it? More than that - would it perhaps give me an edge in surviving, should the king’s court turn against me in the end?

“In theory,” Tereesa confirmed. “But in practice, it’s unproven. The carving I’ve designed is extensive, and intricate - it must be carved with precision, to the point where even the presence of a baby’s spell in the wrong spot could make the entire thing inoperable… I’ve been able to do some basic testing using unawakened beast cores, but never have I found a person whose core could possibly support it. Until now.”

“And what does this design of yours do?” I asked, unable to help the excitement that was creeping into my tone. I knew I should be cautious, but the woman was winning me over quickly with her promises.

“It would separate your core into four quadrants, three of which could be closed at any given time!”

“That’s… Why would I want that!?” I demanded, confused now.

“Because the more spells a person carves the weaker each individual spell becomes! My theory - the leading theory - is that the mana we store within our cores is inherently pressurized. That’s why it’s constantly spilling out of the cracks in our cores, filling our bodies at the cost of lowering our regeneration. When you have relatively few spells carved into your core, you regenerate quickly, and your spells pack a powerful punch - it’s why some military types and adventurers prefer to keep to only a single major spell, which they can put all their power into. Because, by contrast, the more spells you carve, the slower your regeneration gets, and the less power your individual spells can wield. The pressure within your core is essentially lessened.”

“So by sealing part of my core, I’d make whatever parts remained unsealed stronger?”

“Indeed!” Tereesa confirmed. “So you do have a brain in that head of yours - good to know.”

“Of course I do!” I replied, affronted. “It’s just that we didn’t have magic where I’m from. Or cores.”

Tereesa looked like she wanted to say something to that, but after a moment she shook her head. “If that’s the tale you want to go with, Lady… or rather Miss Amy. The point remains, that if you’re willing to work with me, I can personally promise to make you one of the most powerful women this kingdom has ever known. Perhaps the most powerful in the world! And all you have to do is follow my instructions.”

I opened my mouth to object - to say that I had no interest in being the most powerful being in the world - but… again, my mind flickered to the thugs in that alley. To the ones who’d so casually stabbed me. It wasn’t just them, either. There was also the executioner, who’d lifted his axe and almost beheaded me. The prince, who’d goaded him on. The king, who had stopped it - but for who knew how long?

Having that much power sounded troublesome to me. More trouble than I wanted, for sure. Yet at the same time, could I really afford to be as weak as I was?

“I promise to tell the king you can’t possibly be Amelia,” Tereesa added. “And it’s not as if you have to begin carving right away - I’ll need to teach you a thing or two about how to do it, for one thing, and you’ll need to make your own version of the mark I’ll be teaching you. It’s been well documented that even spells that are identical on their surface generally bear differences in their carving, based on the ones carving them, after all… Really, there’s a lot of work to do, and plenty of time for you to back out. Not that you will, I don’t think. Not once you realize the full extent of what I’m offering you.”

“And what do I have to do for it?” I asked, against my better judgement.

Tereesa smiled. “All you have to do is exactly what I tell you to do - starting with staying put for a moment, while I go fetch my other pupil. Something tells me the two of you are going to get along marvelously.”

“Marvelously,” I repeated, glancing towards the other side of the room where I knew Pauline’s blurred figure to be. “Yeah… I’m sure.”

~~~

Author's Notes

Chapter 10! A fitting milestone for the Magic Class, I think. In which we discover a little something of what's going on with Amy's magic, and get a hint of her potential... which is apparently limitless.

Will things really go so easy for her, though...? Guess you'll have to stick around and keep reading to find out! (Or you can read ahead to chapter 12 on Patreon for as little as $1~)

Also, I just wanna say thanks to my friend Sammy, for helping me brainstorm a bit for the magic system... She wasn't the only one, either. Another friend basically handed me the idea of an empty core as a fun way to do weak to strong in the first place. Honestly, I've got a lot of people to be grateful to, whether it be for listening to me ramble, or for pitching ideas themselves. And I also wanna thank all of you for reading, too~!

Pauline

“Pauline, dear!” my teacher’s voice called out, the very moment I finished adjusting a line on my core projection. Nevermind that I was supposed to have total privacy thanks to the school’s magic tool… I suppose I should have just been glad that my eccentric teacher had given me time to finish what I was doing before nearly scaring me out of my wits with her sudden introduction.

“Yes, Professor Devulchas?” I asked, addressing not my teacher, but rather the small stone golem that had appeared on my desk. It was one of the professor’s many spells, and I knew from experience that she could hear through the thing as easily as she could speak through it.

“I’d like you to join me and Amy, if you would? I’m taking her as a pupil, and having you on opposite sides of the room is inconvenient for joint lessons.”

“Joint lessons?” I asked, trying not to let my dismay show. Not that I was upset about having another pupil join me, of course - though I did have to wonder who could have possibly gotten my teacher’s attention so suddenly - but because moving meant abandoning my work… for all the wonders the core projectors offered, they didn’t have a way to save or transfer the work you did upon them. Moving meant I’d have to start all over again! Not to mention the fact that going to the other side of the room would put me closer to… to…

“…Did you say Amy, Professor?” I asked, unable to keep the disbelief from my voice.

“Yes, it’s rather derivative, I know - hardly fitting for someone who claims she wants to distance herself from the body’s original owner - but there you have it. I trust that won’t be a problem?"

“N-no, Professor,” I replied, trying my best to put on the good girl face I always showed the world. I was lucky to have so much of Professor Devulchas’ attention as it was, and I wasn’t going to risk losing it just because of a little upset.

…Though sitting next to the woman who’d tried to kill me so recently did make me more than a ‘little upset’ when you came right down to it…

“You needn’t worry, dear,” Professor Devulchas said, her voice taking an almost motherly tone. “I’ve confirmed with my own eyes that this is not the same Lady Amelia who tormented you. In fact, as it stands, she’s so defenseless even you could take her…”

“Really?” I asked, frowning. That was hard to believe, considering the nature of my mana. It was so aligned with healing, that even my attempts at attack spells generally left people better off than it found them. Though that didn’t mean they couldn’t cause a fair bit of pain - and without leaving any evidence of a wound behind, at that.

“I know what you’re thinking, dear, but she really is quite defenseless. Like a newborn babe, almost. Except better, because nobody will get all upset at me for experimenting with her!”

“R-right,” I replied, reluctantly shutting down my core projection, and the associated privacy field. “I’ll be right over, then.”

There wasn’t much for me to gather before heading over. A few bits of parchment with practice runes drawn on them and my quill, mostly. Which meant I didn’t have much of an excuse to linger, unfortunately. I did walk a bit slower than need be, though, in the hopes of getting a better look at Lady… Amy?

It was hard to imagine Amelia letting anyone call her Amy. Though if she’d managed to win Professor Devulchas over to her side… Well, either she was even more cunning than Prince Jethroo believed, or she really was a different person. There were very few ways to sway the professor’s opinion of you, after all. You were either interesting to her, or you weren’t - and to my understanding, she’d never once shown an interest in Amelia before this…

Still, no matter what logic and reason told me, it was hard to overcome the pounding in my heart as I moved closer to the pair. Amelia wasn’t even facing me, at the moment, focused entirely on the professor as she spoke, but I knew the back of her head almost as well as the front. I’d watched her storm off after fruitless conversations with me more than once, after all.

She looked the same as always, from the rear, with her long black hair and her pale and slender form. I had to wonder if the girl had spent an entire day in the sun in her life, looking like that - compared to me, someone all tanned and muscled from a past of farmwork, she really did look like the perfect image of a frail Lady. We couldn’t be more far apart.

When I moved around to see her face, though, I got a little surprise - an expression I’d never seen Lady Amelia make before. Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were pursed, and it looked like her brain was about a step away from overheating.

“So, you see, from that we can conclude that the magic within us is somehow pressurized. I personally theorize that this implies a font of sorts within the core, an origin for the magic within us. Which of course brings us to the question of where magic truly comes from. Now, some would tell you that-”

“Professor?” I called out, trying not to giggle at just how overwhelmed Lady… No, Miss Amy was. It was an expression I couldn’t imagine Amelia making. She never let herself seem anything but fully in control of a situation. Though I think that a big part of what annoyed her about me was that I refused to be controlled completely… “I’m here to help Miss Amy with her core planning?”

“Oh, it’s much more than core planning, my dear,” Professor Devulchas told me. “This girl needs a complete primer - instructions from scratch. That means teaching her how to get in touch with her unconscious mind, so that she can personalize symbols. Not to mention the actual etching process - would you believe she knows none of it? Claims there’s no such thing as magic and cores where she’s from. Nonsense, I know, but the state of her core… why, I’m almost tempted to believe her…”

“You do realize I can hear everything you’re saying, right?” Amy asked, with a… pout? Was that a pout on her lips? I’d never seen Lady Amelia pout before. Though it was gone as soon as she glanced at me, replaced by the emotionless mask I was more used to seeing on that face. It was such a familiar sight that I almost stepped back, wondering if I’d been mistaken - if this was a trick of Lady Amelia’s after all… at least until she opened her mouth.

“You ah… Pauline, I’m… Well, that is to say… ah…. Thank you? For the help. With the healing. And the… the… Well, whatever this is, I suppose?”

“The core planning?” I asked, a small smile on my face. Nervous Amelia… Amy… was kind of cute? Not terrifyingly hot like Lady Amelia, despite having the exact same looks, but more… like a nervous little field mouse?”

“Yes, yes,” Professor Devulchas interrupted, waving her hand in a dismissive motion. “Flirt on your own time, you two. For now, I want you to focus on this!”

“I, we weren’t-” Amy tried to protest, but the professor ignored her completely, instead turning towards her desk. A moment later I heard the sound of a drawer opening, quickly followed by the sight of three stone balls flowing through the air towards us. Not a surprising sight, by most accounts - especially not coming from someone with an affinity for stone, like Professor Devulchas - and yet from the look on Amy’s face, you’d think she was witnessing one of the greatest wonders our world had to offer. Which… maybe she was, if she really was from a place without magic? Either way, it was quickly hidden behind that emotionless mask of hers, as if she were afraid her excitement might be spotted.

In fact, judging by the glance she gave me, that might have actually been the case… I wondered if she knew how close that expression brought her to the original Amelia? It was honestly pretty hard for me not to flinch back from it… but I did my best to give her a polite smile and a moment later the mask seemed to melt away, leaving behind a slightly nervous but more or less alright expression.

“This,” the teacher began, as one of the stone orbs landed in her hand, “is module one - which is to say the first of three variants I’ve designed for my self-sealing core theory. It’s rather simple, as you can see - four lines to make four quadrants, with little ‘x’s connected to each corner. That’s my way of signifying that they can each close, but you’ll have to let your unconscious mind take over if you want to draw what’s right for you. Regardless, the result of this one would be to allow you to shutter and reopen individual quadrants as needed. It's simple, but easy to work with so long as you're careful to track which spell is within each quadrant.”

“So that's the one you're recommending?” Amy asked.

“Not so quick! As I said, there's three variants. The next one…” she glanced at the ball, sending it floating back into the air so that another could settle in her palm. “See how it has the same quadrant structure, but without the ‘x’s? That's because, instead, you have these branches and circles,” she said, gesturing to the stone again. True to her world, each of the quadrants had multiple branches stretching from their walls, each ending in a circle.

“This one allows further control. Rather than quadrants, you can choose to turn individual spells on and off. Unfortunately, it leaves you with only a limited number of slots, and the spells you can cast are limited by the circles - though, in theory, you can make a spell first and then connect it to the structure, allowing for more adaptability.”

I watched the ball float off like the last one had, followed quickly by the final orb taking its place. This one had quadrants, like the others, as well as a circle that touched all four sides, leaving little pockets of free space behind.

“This one is a little different,” Professor Devulchas told us. “Like the second, you get a limited number of slots - only four, to be precise. One for each quadrant.”

“That seems rather low,” Amy pointed out, frowning.

I didn’t say anything, despite honestly wanting to agree with her. Knowing the professor, there was a bit more to it than that.

“It does,” Professor Devulchas confirmed. “But the difference is that those four spells can be big - huge, even, if that’s what you desire. As much power and complexity as you want to pack into it, almost. Though, if it was just that, there’d be no difference between it and the first. The big seller is the little pockets outside the circles - they should allow you to create what I’m referring to as sub spells. A minimum of four, but perhaps more if you’re careful. Every spell you carve in them will allow you to modify your main spell, customizing it as you desire. So if your main spell was to summon a cyclone, or some such, you could use subspells to better control the wind speed, temperature, or even create blades of wind hidden within its structure!”

“So, only four spells, but they’d be more versatile than average?” Amy asked, frowning.

“Exactly!” Professor Devulchas confirmed. “And considering your affinity is shadow - assuming that is still your affinity… Well, I imagine you could do all sorts of things. Why, I’ve seen shadow used in a myriad of ways - illusions, storage… Why, one person I read about even went so far as to manifest some form of shadowy limbs! Though accounts are unfortunately rather scarce on that one.”

“I don’t really know what it is,” Amy admitted. “But I kept her - I mean, that is to say, I have… uh… reason to suspect that things didn’t change that much.”

“Is that so?” Professor Devulchas asked, arching an eyebrow. After a moment, though, she shook her head, seemingly ready to let it go. “Well, as you will. You are allowed your secrets, I suppose.”

I was still pretty curious, but… I knew better than to pry.

Amy let out a sigh of relief, for her part, before glancing between the professor and me.

“So… when do we start?”

~~~

Author's Notes

Another exposition chapter - though I tried to make it a bit more exciting than it might otherwise be by shifting to Pauline's PoV. I hope that kept things fresh and interesting, even for those who aren't as interested in the magic system?

If you're interested in seeing where this is headed you can read two chapters ahead on Patreon for as little as $1~! You'll also get to read two chapters ahead on a bunch of my other works, including Naughty Magic, Double Trouble, and Hatching a Heroine.

Speaking of, my theoretical update priority list is as follows - Next up is Hatching a Heroine, followed by probably more MOV, and then maybe I finally give My Oni Love a revisit? After that there will probably be more MOV, and then... either a one-shot, or more of the Ranma fanfic. (I've actually written up to part 9 of that one, but I'm still waiting for the commissioner's seal of approval before releasing it)

Anyway, hope to see you soon!

 

Core carving class went… well, in the end, I suppose? At the very least it didn’t go as bad as it could have. Pauline didn’t run away from me in fear, call me an evil bitch, or do anything to imply she’d like to see me arrested or killed. Yes, she was perhaps a bit standoffish with me, and occasionally I saw her flinch away from me, but by and large she seemed willing to tolerate my company. I’d even caught her smiling a time or two! 

Her smile was rather pretty, too - enough that my heart might have been sent aflutter, if I didn’t know that the smile existed in spite of me rather than because. I was in the body of her tormentor, after all, and it wasn’t as if I could claim to be fully innocent of her crimes… not when I’d potentially written them into existence. Though, honestly, I was starting to think that the demon had perhaps been telling the truth about this world existing before me… It was just too complex to have sprung forth from the romantic fantasy slop I’d been writing.

Starting with the magic system - I’d never imagined anything remotely like it! Which was, perhaps, why I was struggling so much with it… Everyone kept talking about getting in touch with my ‘unconscious mind,’ saying that the proper symbols for what I wanted to do should just come to me, but they might as well have been spewing instructions in Latin, for all the good it did me. I was a writer, not a painter, and the more abstract forms of art had never really appealed to me before.

As such, it didn’t really feel like I managed to accomplish much by class’s end. Mostly I’d just doodled on a piece of parchment, my random scribblings more akin to ink blots than legible symbols, let alone magical marks that somehow ‘meant something’ to me. 

It was something of a relief when class finally ended, as it meant I could stop hitting my head against a wall. Truthfully, the looks of pity I’d received from Pauline for my paltry efforts had done little to lift my spirits. At least Tereesa - or rather, Professor Devulchas, as she insisted on being called - hadn’t seemed to mind much. She just said to give inspiration time to strike, and that I’d know it when it happened. Regardless, it was with a heavy heart that I eventually trudged out of the classroom and began to head home. 

Which made it all the more upsetting when my travel was interrupted by an imperious figure.

“There you are,” Firanna said, striding across the courtyard to greet me. I, of course, looked around in the vague hope that she might be talking to someone else, but - whether by chance, or plot - there was nobody but the two of us in the vicinity. “I was a little worried you might think to go out of your way to avoid me - shall I assume that you’re as eager to get through this spat as me?”

“What spat?” I asked, confused. “I thought you were done with me, after this morning’s debacle.”

“Done with you?” Firanna scoffed. “Please. You may have forced me to rearrange my plans a little, but trust me when I say they won’t be stopped. It’s only a matter of time before Bridgette sees through your little ploy, and leaves you behind - and that’s when I’ll strike.”

“It’s not a ploy,” I replied, annoyed. “And I don’t get what Bridgette has to do with anything, either.”

“Playing innocent?” Firanna asked. “It doesn’t suit you - but then, I suppose it’s your only option at this point, isn’t it? Seeing as how all your other schemes have crumbled to dust. It’s only a matter of time until this one fails, too, and then your head will be back on the chopping block. Where it belongs.”

“Why do you even care what happens to me?” I asked, careful to keep my expression blank. I didn’t want her to know how much that threat got to me - how an image of the executioner’s axe had just flashed through my mind. I’d almost peed myself, thinking I was about to be killed, before my frantic pleas managed to rouse the king into action. “Do you have some sort of history with the original Amelia I don’t know about?”

“Maybe I just like seeing nasty schemers like you being put in your place,” Firanna remarked, smirking. “It makes me feel like there’s actual justice to be found in this world.”

“Well, you won’t get justice by ending me. As I keep saying, I’m-”

“Not Amelia? Yes, yes, I know,” Firanna replied, rolling her eyes. “I was there at the execution. I assume you’re the one who had the truth stone swapped out? A nice way to delay your inevitable demise, but I do wonder what you’re going to do when a replacement is brought…”

“Swapped out?” I asked, frowning. “I thought it was broken.”

“Of course you did.” Firana sighed, shaking her head. “Look. I don’t care what trouble you get up to for the sake of preserving your skin - but if you think I’ll let you bring Bridgette down with you, then you have another thing coming.”

“For the last time, I’m not up to anything! Least of all anything that would trouble Bridgette - in fact, if anything, Bridgette’s the one troubling me.”

“Yes, I’m sure having a knight in shining armor save you at every opportunity must be so terrible for you,” Firanna replied. “I don’t know how you deal with it.”

“I mean… Okay, yeah, she’s helped me here and there, but… it’s not like she even likes me. She’s just doing it out of some… I don’t know, her sense of duty maybe?”

“Of course she doesn’t like you! You’re… Well you. The only one who can even stand you is that maid of yours, and even then it’s likely only because of how much you pay her.”

“I’m not paying her anything at the moment, actually,” I confessed. “Because I don’t have any money. Because I couldn’t keep myself from being robbed, or stabbed in the throat, because I have no damn magic, because I’m not Amelia!”

Firanna stared at me for a moment, before scoffing and turning on her heel. “Whatever you say, MissAmelia. Just know that if your plans bring so much as a prick’s worth of harm to Bridgette, I will see to it that you meet a fate far worse than death.”

I stared after the woman, actively fighting to keep from screaming or running after her. It wasn’t as if anything I said would actually penetrate - that much was clear.

Honestly, it almost made me feel bad for the real Amelia… if even the honest truth couldn’t sway people towards trusting me, a fake who’d been forced into her place, then what chance did the real thing ever have of escaping her fate? Even if she’d truly turned her life around, nobody would have believed her…

Maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t a part of this world any longer.

 

 

“Are you done sulking?”

I groaned, in response, grabbing hold of the thick blanket surrounding me and pulling it tight against myself - a proactive defense against the tug upon my covers that I knew was coming.

Sure enough, the blasted demon did in fact try to force me out into the open, but my grip upon the blankets was tight and my body as a whole heavy enough that they soon gave up.

“Seriously,” they muttered. “Your counterpart is so much easier to deal with than this…”

“My counterpart must be an idiot, then,” I replied, before flinching at the sound of my own voice. Even muffled against the mattress, it was far too deep for my liking. A stark reminder of what had happened to me - what I’d lost. “Anyone with even the tiniest hint of a brain should know better than to work with a demon like you.”

“And what does that say about you, who called me in the first place?” the demon asked, their tone as condescending as their words.

“I was a fool, too,” I replied. “But now I know better. Foul beast.”

“Now, now, there’s no need for insults,” the demon replied. “I’ve done what I can to help you, have I not? I’ve provided books upon your new world, taught you how to work a computer - I even made a reading recommendation or two to help you get used to using it!”

“You just want to poison my mind with happy stories about idiots doing idiotic things,” I replied - though there was admittedly a lack of conviction in my voice. In truth, I wasn’t sure what the demon was trying to accomplish by recommending half-finished stories posted on this… web. Something awful was planned, though, no doubt.

“Look, you’re never going to be rid of me if you keep hiding like this. Not that I particularly want to be gone, but… Well, it’s quite frankly depressing to watch the great and powerful Lady A-”

“Don’t call me that!” I snapped, finally sticking my head out from under the blanket. “I won’t have that name associated with this… this hideous mockery of a form you’ve stuck me in. So gangly, and hairy and… and…”

“Wrong?” the demon suggested, arching an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” I spat out. “Wrong. Every inch of my being is wrong, and gross, and… Does my counterpart feel the same? I can’t imagine they do, with a form as gracious as mine, but…”

“She took to it quite well, actually,” the demon replied.

“Well, lucky them, I suppose,” I muttered, drawing the blanket back over my head. “For however long they have until death, at least…”

“Yes,” the demon replied. “Death. Death you escaped - and yet you don’t seem very happy about that, do you?”

I scowled at them, even knowing they couldn’t see. “I’d be happier if I had a body of my choosing.”

“So would lots of people, but you don’t see all of them moping around in bed doing nothing, do you?”

“Well bully for them,” I grumbled. “I bet they weren’t all shoved into a shambling mess of a form by a demon who promised them happiness though.”

“No. Just by luck, genetics, and fate… but, you know, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do on the matter.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of jumping on what was clearly nothing but bait.

On the other hand…

“Well?” I snapped. “Are you going to go on, or are you simply trying to tease me?”

“It’s called plastic surgery, my dear,” the demon replied, their voice so smug I wanted nothing more than to punch them. “Though there’s some other, less dramatic steps you can take to feminize yourself a little.”

“And those steps are?” I demanded, impatient.

“Easily findable online. Just use the search engine - assuming you remember what I taught you about those?”

“Yes!” No, I didn’t, but like hell I was going to admit it. I did know it had something to do with the computer, though, and I knew how to turn that on, which was clearly step one.

“Of course, if that doesn’t appeal, there’s also the option of making another deal with me.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, reluctantly pushing myself up with one massive, hairy, annoyingly gangly arm. “What are you even doing here, anyway? I’ve never heard of demons sticking around after being summoned.”

“Yes, well, maybe that’s simply because you haven’t read enough stories on the subject. There’s one in particular I enjoy, called Self-Sum-”

I threw a pillow at the demon, glaring at them for a moment in the vague hope that my anger would somehow get through to them.

They grinned at me in reply. “Should I open it up in a tab for you?”

 

~~~

Author's Notes

 

Fun fact: Part of why I was so excited to write chapter 14 for Patreon was the thought of getting to unleash this chapter on the public... I've been looking forward to hearing people's reactions, so please do comment and let me know what you think~!

I seem to have deleted my original author's notes on this story, but I do recall that part two of it was not in my original plans. I was saving that particular reveal for the end of volume 1, in fact - but the way part 1 of the chapter ended basically demanded I check in on her, so here we are!

Hope you enjoyed? And if you're curious about what comes next, you can always pop on over to Patreon to read two chapters ahead on this (and several of my other stories) for as little as $1~

I fell through clouds of cotton, bounced on hills that looked hard as rock but gave like flesh, and landed upon a massive book that proceeded to snap shut - waking me from my dream and causing me to sit upright in bed.

“I’ve got it!”

“Got what my Lady?” Clara asked, from beside my bed post.

“Wha-you… No! No time! It’s going to leave my head at this rate - I need a paper and pen.”

“A pen?” Clara asked, frowning for a moment. “Do you mean a quill?”

“Yes! That! With ink!” I replied, waving off the question. “Hurry, too, or I’ll-”

“Here you are, my Lady,” Clara said, proffering the writing materials upon a tray.

“Where did you…?”

“Lady Amelia always kept them close at hand - in her writing desk,” Clara explained. Not that it explained how she’d gotten ahold of them so fast, or where the tray had come from, but… I’d worry about that later.

“Hold the tray steady,” I told her. “Or put it down, if you must - I just need a steady surface to write on.”

“I’ll hold it, then, my Lady,” Clara replied.

I didn’t question her choice, too busy dipping my quill into the ink, tapping it against the inner wall of the inkwell in order to shake off the excess, and then transmitting the image that had come to me in my dreams into reality.

“A book,” I murmured, mostly to myself, trying to keep hold of an image that I could already feel beginning to fade. “No - four books, in a square, their spines backed up together. Four parts of a whole - a series. Distinct, but interconnected. Each of the four books has four acts - four stages of the story, tied together by the central theme! A simple motif of shadow runs through it all, creating the interconnection between the works that make it work…”

I honestly had no idea what was leaving my lips. I didn’t know if it made sense. I knew what I was drawing didn’t - I mean, it sort of kinda looked like four pages if you squinted a bit? And maybe those little lines underneath could be said to be more pages, meaning a book… if you squinted real hard… and yet I knew deep in my bones that this was it. This was my abstract representation of the third option Professor Devulchas had provided. It was… messier than hers, to be honest. Not nearly as efficient - she’d probably complain about it taking up too much room. It would do what was needed, though… and if it was messy and inefficient, then so what? So was I.

Though there was one problem I still needed to solve…

“Clara. Why are you in my bedroom?”

“You called for me, my Lady,” Clara told me.

“No, I didn’t,” I replied - and yet there was doubt in my voice. My ability hadn’t read her words as a lie.

“Maybe not consciously,” Clara said. “But I could feel your need for me even before your eyes snapped open.”

“How?” I asked, deciding not to beat around the bush. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Of course not, my Lady.” Clara looked almost affronted. “I’m simply well attuned to my Lady’s needs.”

“So well attuned that you entered my bedroom before I even woke up?” I demanded.

“Of course not. I entered it the same instant you woke up. It’s just that your eyes took a second to open and notice.”

“That’s…” I didn’t know what to say to that. “How? I didn’t hear the door open, or close, either!”

“I don’t rely on such conventional means to appear by my Lady’s side,” Clara replied.

“…You can teleport?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“In a limited capacity,” she admitted, her tone so carefully neutral even I could detect it. Was she nervous? “More specifically, a lady’s maid must always be present to open the door for their Lady upon their return… and must similarly be available to her at all hours of the night within their own abode. The mana cost is heavy for large distances, but generally manageable.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before why?” I demanded.

“It wasn’t necessary information,” Clara replied, shrugging. “It’s still not necessary, in my opinion.”

“…Right…” I murmured, letting out a sigh. I’d almost forgotten, somehow, but Clara didn’t truly work for me. She worked for Amelia. It only made sense that she wouldn’t trust me with information she didn’t need to… though now that I knew about it, a scary thought crossed my mind. “Could you teleport into my room and kill me? At any point? All this time?”

“I would never do that, my Lady,” Clara replied, sounding almost affronted. “And… No. I could not.”

She wasn’t lying - I could tell that much - but… “What do you mean you can’t? Surely you mean you wouldn’t - or is there some issue with your abilities that would prevent it?”

Clara didn’t reply at first. Her lips twisted into an expression of discontent, and I could tell she was seriously considering refusal. Still, she eventually confessed. “I am unable to hurt you, my Lady. Physically. Magically. It would betray the very nature of my existence.”

Again, Clara seemed to wage an internal war with herself, her expression shifting from frustration to discomfort to eventual acceptance. “What do you know about magical affinities, my Lady?”

“That… they’re a thing, I suppose?” I replied. “I know I’m aligned with shadows - or at least Amelia was, and considering the fact that I can tell the truth from lies, like her, I imagine it remains unchanged…”

“Just so, my Lady,” Clara confirmed. “Similarly, Miss Pauline is aligned with the element of light, and her mana expresses itself through the healing aspect. Bridgette, meanwhile, is aligned with wind. I am aware that she can also hear things said from great distances away, though what she hears seems to be almost random. She can also travel at great speeds - probably a spell rather than a direct expression of her magic.”

Bridgette could do a lot more than travel at great speeds with her ability - but I wasn’t going to say that out loud. Rather, I bit my tongue to keep from letting it spill by accident, and just nodded along.

“Not all alignments are so straight forward,” Clara continued. “Most are fairly simple, mind you. Air, earth, fire, water, and - more rarely - shadow and light are fairly standard themes. You might have ‘stone’ or ‘metal’ over the more-encompassing ‘Earth.’ You might have ice, or lightning, or even warmth as your affinity, but it usually all ties into those categories.”

Again, I nodded. It was more than I’d known before, but it still made sense to me.

“Rarely, however, someone is born with something more… esoteric. Something that doesn’t neatly align with one of the elements…”

“I take it you’re one such case?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Just so, my Lady,” Clara confirmed. “More specifically, my affinity is servitude. Just as all your spells must inevitably invoke shadows in some way, mine must always be in service to another.”

“In service to me, you mean?” I asked, a grim realization falling over me. “To this body. Are you… couldn’t you switch to someone else?”

Clara shook her head. “I made my choice long ago. While it’s true that my power once had such flexibility, I chose to narrow the nature of my most powerful spells - more specific concepts are generally more efficient, requiring less power to activate and returning greater results. I can teleport to your side from almost anywhere - but only your side, my Lady.”

“That… that still doesn’t explain why you can’t physically harm me,” I pointed out. “Surely that only restricts your magic, no?”

Again, Clara shook her head. “I carved an oath into my core, when I joined my Lady. One enforced by the very nature of my mana. To break it would no doubt shatter my core. I’d quite literally die before harming you.”

“That’s… that’s horrible,” I whispered. “How can you be so calm about that? Being bound to someone like that - being bound to me, someone you don’t even know, just because the real Amelia left you - how could she-”

“I doubt she knew she would be taken beyond my reach,” Clara interrupted, her expression stormy.

“But still! You’re basically trapped in servitude, aren’t you? I mean, no wonder you chose to stay by my side, even when I can’t pay you… you literally couldn’t leave me if you tried…”

“I swore an oath to Lady Amelia,” Clara replied. “And I am bound only by my own interpretation of it. The only reason it protects you is because I trust my Lady to have a plan, and reclaiming her body might be part of it. To hurt your physical form would be a betrayal. That doesn’t mean I have to serve you, someone who isn’t her, beyond the bare minimum. I choose to do so.”

“But you’re still bound to her,” I argued. “What did she… how did she make you-”

“Stop!” Clara demanded, glaring at me. “Not another word, my Lady.”

“But-”

“I made my own choice when I carved my core.”

“But you’ve been serving Amelia since you were both children. No child should have to-”

“She doesn’t know about it.”

“What?” I asked, blinking.

“She didn’t require it - she certainly didn’t ask for it. As if she needed to… I was just some random girl from the slums. Someone she saved from the very fate you seem to think she consigned me to. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you?” Clara asked me, her eyes drilling deep into mine. “You just assumed the worst about her. Like everyone else does.”

“That’s…” I swallowed. “Amelia is the sort of person who’d take advantage of that. You have to know that. That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it?”

“I never told her because I didn’t want her to feel obligated to keep me around! I swore that oath because I wanted to! Because I wanted to be the best servant that she could ever ask for! Because I didn’t want to give myself the option of cowardly backing down, when things got tough, like I had all my life before! Because she saved me… but none of you can see that side of her. All you see is the cruel mistress who mistreats everyone around her. Everyone except me.”

“That’s… I mean… Just because she didn’t mistreat you doesn’t mean she was a good person…”

“I’m aware of that,” Clara replied, her voice icy cold. “But who said I care?”

I had no response to that. Not that Clara waited for me to give one, simply striding towards the door. Whether because her teleportation was limited to coming towards me, or simply to make a point, she actually went through the trouble of opening the thing and… surprisingly not slamming it shut. In fact, she closed it with the same care she always did.

Not for my sake, though, I realized. Never for mine, at all. She only cared because it was Amelia’s house - and this, in her eyes, was Amelia’s body…

Maybe she wasn’t wrong to think that way. Maybe Amelia really would come back for it… but I didn’t know for sure what had happened to her. I didn’t know that she could.

So she could go on thinking it was Amelia’s body… like I only had it on loan. Maybe she’d be proven right in the end. In the meantime, though? I needed to get used to treating this body like it was mine for good… because it very well might be.

The first step to that would, of course, be prepping my core… and after an entire week of core-classes, spent slamming my head against the wall trying to get in touch with my sub-conscious, the answer had literally come to me in a dream. It had been dropped right into my lap!

So why couldn’t I stop thinking about Clara, and just be happy about it?

~~~

Author'sNotes

I uh... was expecting to get to the actual core carving this chapter, to be honest, but then the whole thing with Clara happened and next thing I knew an entire chapter had flown by? Which is kinda the story of this chapter in general, considering I only intended to get the start laid out before bed and instead ended up writing the whole thing between 11:43 PM and 1:12 AM... Then again, the series as a whole never seems to go how I expect it to, huh...? Oh well! Hope you enjoy!

If you're eager to read about the core-carving experience, as well as Amy's first Real Spell, feel free head over to my Patreon where you can read three chapters ahead for as little as $1! (That's right, I boosted up the buffer to three. Will it stay that way? Grow? Come back down to 2? Guess it all depends on how productive I can be... but for the time being, three chapters it is!

You can also read 2 ahead on Naughty Magic, Double Trouble, and Hatching a Heroine - as well as 1 (new) chapter ahead on My Oni Love. All for that same $1 price!)

“You look down,” Pauline noted as I flopped down on my chair. “Look, I know how discouraging it can be to keep banging ahead against your wall without any apparent progress, but you’ll figure it out eventually! I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before you can carve your core.”

“No, I figured that out already,” I admitted, pulling out the messy piece of paper I’d written upon waking up. “It’s something else that has me in the dumps…”

“In the dumps?” Pauline questioned.

“Yes, it means sad - do you not have that phrase here?”

“We do. It’s just a bit odd to hear you speaking so… well, normally, I suppose. Lady Amelia was always a bit grandiose - she probably would have said something like, ‘my thoughts are in turmoil’ or something, instead.”

“Is that so?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “...Well, I suppose that’s how I would have written her, myself… but while I may have retained some of her habits, and even her way of speaking, the content of that speech remains very much my own.”

“Yeah,” Pauline confirmed, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear - something I’d detailed as a nervous habit in the books. Though how much I could rely on what I’d written to translate into reality, I had no idea. “Sometimes, you act a lot like her, you know? But then you’ll say or do something that’s so incredibly unlike her, that I can’t help but think you must truly be a different person…”

“Didn’t we cover this?” I asked. “Professor Devulchas even made me show you my core.”

“Yeah, I know…” Pauline confirmed. “I’ve never heard of anyone blanking out their cores - except maybe in fairy tales, and childhood fables… but Professor Devulchas confirmed that it shouldn’t be possible in real life. It’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes, Prince Jethroo always sounds so certain when he says it’s a trick… He said that if anyone could pull something like this off, it would be you… and as much as it pains me to admit, there’s a part of me that fears he’s right, even now…” Pauline sighed, then frowned. “Wait. What did you mean when you talked about writing her?”

“Ah…” I blushed. “Has that story not spread? I suppose I should thank Bridgette for keeping her lips shut, then, but it’s no great secret - back where I’m from, I was a writer. In fact, I wrote a story that pretty closely mirrors this land, and its people… Most especially Amelia, I suppose. That’s the conduit the demon used to pull me here, and put me in this body.”

“Then you wrote a story about Amelia?” Pauline said. “And she used that to… to turn you into her, or some such?”

“Something like that,” I confirmed. Bridgette had warned me away from telling everyone about the demon, saying that I should try to keep it secret from all but the king. I’d argued that it was bound to come up eventually, what with their tendency to appear at random, but apparently it was best for the king to disseminate that knowledge. Something about me being indelicate, and being likely to turn myself into even more of a social parriah… “Though the story wasn’t really about Amelia, per se…”

“No?” Pauline asked. “Then who?”

“That’s… It was about… I mean, that is to say, it featured a girl of commoner birth in a school much like this one, and her romantic relationship to… to the ah… Prince?”

“To… Prince Jethroo?” Pauline asked. “I’d have to wish her luck, then. The only one he seems to have eyes for of late is…” She paused, her physique paling. “You wrote about me?”

“Not you. Not really! I mean, I had no idea you even existed!”

“R-right. I mean, it’s not like you were magically stalking me from afar or anything… right?”

“Of course not! I swear! I mean no harm - in fact, if anything, I’d consider myself something of a fan, I suppose? Your romance with the prince was the entire point of the story, after all.”

“My… romance?” Her expression was perplexed, for some reason. Before I could dig into it further, though, I heard a clap from behind me.

“Is that it?” Professor Delvuchas asked me. “Did you finally get it?”

“Y-yes,” I confirmed, turning to face her. “It came to me in a dream. I know it’s a bit messy, but-”

“Messy?” The Professor scoffed. “Of course it’s messy. It’s a representation of you. Unfortunate, yes, in terms of space it’ll take - but short of reforging your very identity, which I hardly think we have time for, there’s little to be done about it. The real question is whether it will work. Are you ready to start the carving process?”

“Already?” Pauline protested, speaking up before I could. “She doesn’t even know how to carve!”

“We’ll have to walk her through it,” Professor Devulchas replied. “It shouldn’t be a problem - even babies can carve, after all… albeit poorly. Still, there’s no time to learn like the present! Though we’ll only have one shot at this, so I suppose it’s best you listen up…”

“Shouldn’t I practice it first?” I asked, frowning. “I mean, you just said we only have one chance at this…”

“Yes, well, this is unfortunately not the sort of thing that can easily be practiced,” the professor admitted. “The only way to do so safely would be by manipulating magical energy - energy you won’t have access to until after you’ve made your first carving. Which is, of course, something of a problem when the first thing you’re carving is the most important of all, but… Well, I have faith in you. Mostly because it would be incredibly difficult for you to fuck it up.”

“That’s… reassuring… I guess?”

“Good.” The dark haired professor smiled. “Now, there are two ways to do a carving - Pauline? If you would explain?”

“Of course, Professor Devulchas,” Pauline replied, sitting up a bit straighter. “The first method is ‘wishing’ - that’s how most babies carve. Though I guess it’s not really carving, as you’d understand it? It’s when the power comes bursting out all at once, in response to something you greatly desire. The pattern is more or less created for you, in those cases - hence why even babies can do it - but in return, you have little to no control over how it’s shaped, or where it’s placed. That’s what makes them so difficult to work around…”

“Correct,” Professor Devulchas confirmed. “And the superior method?”

“The second method is to plan it out and carve it yourself - that requires figuring out what the glyph you’re carving is going to look like from the start, and then carving it out manually. To do so, you generally take hold of your magic power, and use it to… Well, different people describe it in different ways, but personally it feels like I’m kinda burning it into my core? Except it doesn’t hurt.”

“Because of your light affinity, no doubt,” the professor confirmed. “I’m afraid you’ll have to figure out how your power works for yourself, Amy - but first, you need to extricate a bit of it.”

“Extricate a bit of it?” I asked, frowning. “And how do I do that?”

“Very carefully.” I would have laughed, if not for the serious expression on Professor Devulchas’ face. “You must first search for it within your core - next to your heart - and then take hold of it. Then you must shift it, shaping it into a needle of sorts, which you can use to pierce through the core. Then, once it’s out, you’ll have to go about making the rest of the carving…”

“Why can’t I just make a pinpoint exit and then leave it at that?” I asked. “Then I’d have some magic to play with, right?”

“True - but you’d also be left with a pinpoint spell. A small, probably useless carving that you wouldn’t be able to properly integrate with the rest of what you’re doing.”

“So it’s all or nothing?” I asked, to confirm. “All at once, or I ruin it forever?”

“Correct!” the professor confirmed, a smile on her lips. “Of course, I’m not concerned - you’ll get it! I’m sure.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked, worried.

“Then you’ll be a waste of time. Don’t worry, though - I’ll take responsibility and help you figure out something to do with your core, even in that case. It’ll still be a worthy challenge to optimize, if nothing else, I suppose…”

“…Right…” I took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out again. “Alright… So the first thing I need to do is focus on my core… You said it’s next to my heart?”

“It is,” the professor confirmed. She might have also nodded her head, but I also saw the start of that motion, for I’d already closed my eyes.

The core, next to my heart… Hadn’t I felt something like that before? When the thugs challenged me - when I’d been reaching desperately for my power… It almost felt as if I’d done something, that day. Perhaps I had? Perhaps I’d been about to make my first carving, powered by that desperate wish… In which case I should probably be grateful that I was interrupted.

Rather hard to be grateful for a knife through the throat though…

I shook that thought off - figuratively and literally, actually shaking my head to clear it. Then I focused deeper, on my core. On my magic. It was… surprisingly easy.

“I’ve got it,” I murmured after just a moment, concentrating on the core in my chest. There was a light burn coming from it - so faint I wouldn’t have even noticed it, had I not been focusing. I was used to some random amount of aches and pains coming from my body, after all - or I had been, in my old body. Becoming twenty had mostly solved that, making it a bit easier to find.

“Really?” The professor asked. “Most struggle to find it within them. I’ve had some students try to compare it to feeling the rush of blood in their veins…”

“That’s probably because they were born with it,” I surmised. To me, it was novel. New. It made it easy to detect, now that I was looking for it. Not just the core, but the energy too - I imagined it as a well of inky darkness, like a bottle full of ink. Full to bursting, as it happened - that was where the faint burning was coming from. It was because my core was completely full, and yet more was still coming in. Not much - the faintest of trickles, really - but enough that I could feel the energy pushing at my walls, seeking release.

If I let it all spill out, I’d be in trouble… but if I could control it, it would become the source of my strength. So, first, I had to reach into it. I had to take it, shape it - again, easy… at least in part. I could take it in my grip, but there was too much of it. It was all present, all there - I needed to separate a bit of it, somehow…

I needed… I needed a pen. Not a quill, but a proper modern pen, which would hold the ink within it. One that was impossibly thin - like a needle… but still a pen… a tattoo pen, then? It wasn’t what I was used to using, but it fit the concept rather nicely, so… a tattoo pen, then.

I imagined it - sort of. I didn’t actually know what a tattoo pen lookedlike so the image was somewhat vague, and blurry, but… that was fine, wasn’t it? My alignment was shadow, to begin with. So I was working with the shadow of a pen. A shade of what could be.

In my imagination, I took hold of that pen, within me, and I pressed its needle up against the top of my core. There was a moment’s hesitation on my end, as I wondered if this could truly work… and also how tattoo pens actually worked… was there a button to be pressed? Or did I press?

I was being silly, though, because it didn’t matter how they worked in reality, only how they worked for me in this moment. So I imagined a button - one that would put constant and predictable pressure into whatever surface it touched. Then I pressed the button, in my mind - and flinched. It stung.

“Is something wrong?” the professor asked. “Did it hurt? It shouldn’t hurt… Unless you imagined it hurting, anyway.”

“It’s… probably the nature of how I did it,” I admitted, frowning. Tattoos meant pain to me, after all… but even if I could change my mental image at this point, I wouldn’t. A little pain was a worthwhile price for what I stood to gain.

With that thought in mind, I again took hold of the tattoo pen in my mind - except now it was outside the core, drawing its ink up from that little hole I’d formed.

“I can do this,” I murmured, as an affirmation to myself.

“I’m sure you can - aren’t you?” Professor Devulchas asked. Perhaps she nudged Pauline or some such, too, for a moment later the girl chimed up with, “Me too!”

I ignored both of them, focusing instead on the tattoo pen. The tattoo pen and the image I had created last night. I’d thought I’d need to look at the picture I had drawn, but now that I’d actually begun the carving the image had solidified in my mind as clearly as it had in the dream. I knew exactly what lines to draw, and that’s exactly what I did.

I don’t know how long it took me in the end. My core felt vast, within my mind, for all that I knew it was small - perhaps a little larger than my fist. It had only so much room to it, and I was taking up much of it with this design… but it would be worth it.

I drew the carving I had made - four books, four stories, with interconnected plots and themes. I drew it line by line, carefully going over my flesh with the tattoo pen as it rhythmically punctured and stained my core with shadowy lines that seemed to blur the more I looked at them - until at last it was done.

“I… I did it,” I said, witnessing the scene within my mind’s eye - the pulsing black power within each painstakingly carved line. “I did it!”

“Good!” The teacher said. “Now, the test - can you open and close the quadrants?”

“I’ll… I’ll try…” I said, closing my eyes. Closing them - how did one close a book? By shutting its cover. Not that I’d really drawn covers, per se, but… somehow, I still knew it could work that way. With a mental nudge, I closed each of the book covers, closing my quadrants completely - and as I did so, I felt something change within me. The ink - that trickle of shadowy magic within me - had stopped flowing out of the orb. It was just like it had been at the start - at least mostly. There was less ink, now, I realized. Less pressure… I’d used up some of my power, and it would likely take time to get it back.

Still, I’d worry about that later, I decided. For now, I was going to open one of the quadrants. To open the cover, and reveal the story within, awaiting its central theme - its spell. To that end, I reached for the ink within myself, and pushed against the interior of the book. It was… harder than expected. Much harder. Still, the cover inched open as I pushed, the magic within me pressing against it… but even as it opened, I could feel ink beginning to slip away, out of the crack I was opening. Not much, but enough - enough to reduce the pressure within the core, and lessen the strength I had to work with. By the time I got the cover completely upright and off the book, I felt drained - it took everything I had to push just a little bit further, and lock the open book in place.

As for opening a second cover… “It’s impossible…” I whispered.

“What’s impossible?” Professor Devulchas demanded, startling me. I’d half forgotten that she was there… that I was in class.

“I… I can’t open up more than one of the covers - I mean, the quadrants.”

“What?” The professor narrowed her eyes, before stepping forward and placing her hand upon my shoulder. I didn’t comment, even as I felt the foreign energy pushing its way inside me, and checking over my core.

“I see… the way you designed it - to open from within, yes? It relies upon you having a certain amount of mana within your core, so that you may exert pressure from within it.”

“So… so I just need to wait for my mana to refill?” I asked, my worries somewhat diminished. It was a pain, since it meant I probably wouldn’t be able to switch quadrants on the fly, but-

“I’m afraid not,” Professor Devulchas said, giving me a look I could only describe as ‘pity.’ “The way you’ve carved this - if I’d realized what you’d intended, I would have warned you off of it… Relying on internal pressure to open your quadrants was an innovative way of wrapping your head around the idea, but it’s inherently flawed. By nature, your mana regeneration will only go so far - eventually, you’ll reach an equilibrium between your natural regeneration and the amount of mana that leaks out. Long before you manage to get enough pressure to open the quadrants. The only reason you were able to open this one again is that you were a bit overfilled with mana to begin with, what with not having a way for it to exit before…”

“So… I’m stuck?” I asked. “Limited to just one spell? Why - why didn’t you tell me that was a potential risk!?”

“Well, if you’d stuck to the efficient carving I provided, this wouldn’t have been an issue! You’d be opening it and closing it through a specialized valve, or some such - it’s the result of your own designs, and interpretations of them, that created this mess…”

“So… I’m stuck…” I repeated. “I’m completely stuck?”

“Not… completely…” Professor Devulchas said. “A powerful mana regeneration potion would tip the scales, in the system you’ve built - it would result in you gaining mana faster than you can remove it, which would in turn up the pressure enough for your little system to function.”

“Professor,” Pauline said, speaking up for the first time, “those potions are expensive… and Amy isn’t a noble, anymore.”

“Yes, well… there is that…” The professor grimaced.

“There are mana potions available to commoners,” Pauline pointed out. “Would those work?”

“That core-less trash?” The teacher scoffed. “No. It would never be enough… she’d be better off making her own potions…”

“Is that something I can do?” I asked, clutching onto straws. “Make my own?”

“Of course,” the teacher confirmed. “In fact, it’s quite simple. All you really need is some beast cores.”

“Also expensive, Professor,” Pauline said, clearly exasperated now.

“Not if she hunts them herself,” the teacher replied. “This school has electives for sword fighting, and magical combat - if you can’t buy what you need, you’ll simply have to become an adventurer and get it yourself! And if you happen to prove the strength of my theoretical designs to everyone in the process - why, I imagine that would only up your worth in this country, no?”

“But… I only have one spell to work with,” I pointed out.

“And it’s subspells!” she remarked. “But yes. I advise you to choose what to carve wisely… though if you’re really against the plan, I suppose I could take responsibility and hire you as a magical exper- I mean, assistant…”

“Thanks…” I replied, already deciding that no matter what else happened I would not be doing that. “But I think I’ll need to think on it…”

~~~

Author's Notes

If you're eager to see what comes next, I'd recommend checking out my Patreon, where you can read up to chapter 17 for as little as $1. You'll get to read a couple chapters ahead on most of my other works, too! 

I'm really excited about sharing chapter 15... not to mention 17... though 16 is pretty good too, I'm told? Really helps to flesh out Bridgette. 

Also, tomorrow's meant to be an editing day, but I might work on getting some Double Trouble done? Saturday's a day off and Sunday's a day with my GF and then Tuesday I have a game, so... basically I'm trying to set myself up for a potential Monday MOV chapter. We'll see how that goes, though.

“Now, don’t be glum,” Professor Devulchas chided. “There are still plenty of paths to power available for you. You just have to be careful with what you choose first! Though, if you really want to go all in, I suppose you could just focus on a spell to regenerate mana faster… it should be theoretically possible. I’m not sure it would get you all the way to opening up the other quadrants, but perhaps enough that a commoner’s mana potion could suffice? Though, in the worst case scenario, you’d be down your only spell slot… Certainly a tough choice to make…”

“I’ll think on it,” I repeated. A line that felt like it might become my catch phrase as the professor continued to pile on suggestions, saying I could try to make shadowy limbs - extra hands to wield weapons with - or a storage spell I could potentially learn to enchant onto bags, to make money for potions. Even Pauline tried to chime in, remarking that even without magic I could still pursue a normal education, which would have its own worth in the world…

I listened to it all, but in truth I struggled to really take any of it in. All I could think of was the fact that I had failed - failed to understand the assignment, failed to execute it properly, failed to make the most of my one chance at greatness. Yes, there were supposedly ways forward, but none of them were guaranteed… 

What if I failed again? What if I tried to use that energy sucking spell, only to end up barely able to offset the cost of the spell itself? Perhaps I could try to become a merchant - a storage spell was bound to be useful there, even if I messed it up in some strange way… but was I really willing to accept that? Did I truly want to live the life of a peasant in this world? To give up the comforts I had and really embrace living in a medieval society? As a woman, no less…

The worst part was, I’d gone into this knowing exactly what spell I wanted to carve. Exactly what I wanted to do first - I even had its first subspell worked out in my head. I was pretty sure it would still work, too - assuming I could figure out the proper way to carve it. It would provide me with utility, defense, offense - everything I needed to take on monsters… As long as I didn’t mess it up.

As long as I wasn’t wrong.

Could I really take that risk? Could I chance it? Everyone had told me I needed to believe in myself. That only I could shape the glyphs that would make my magic reality. They told me that magic was a personal thing… but I, as a person, had once again proven what a monumental screw-up I was, so why should I expect my magic to go any differently? I’d already ruined myself once…

In the end, class ended without me making a decision. Not that I was expected to make one - as Pauline and the Professor were sure to assure me - but… I think some part of me realized in that moment that I was liable to never make a decision. That if I walked out the door of that classroom without figuring out what I wanted, I’d probably never have the courage to actually go through with anything at all.

I walked out the door anyway.

The rest of the school week passed in a blur. I attended classes, but never volunteered or even tried to push myself through the malaise that was consuming me. Professor Devulchas remained optimistic at first, but grew increasingly annoyed with my unwillingness to interact until at last she threw up her hands and gave up on me, saying she’d be with Pauline ‘until I cleared my head.’

Part of me thought she was eager for an excuse to leave a failure like me. The rest of me recognized that thought for what it was - the whispers of depression, in the wake of my failure. Identifying it didn’t help, though.

Eventually, the final day of classes ended. The weekend would officially begin the next day - and the day after that, I’d be meeting with the king to plead my case. Though some part of me hardly felt it was worth the bother, in the moment, I knew I’d feel differently if the executioner’s axe was held over my head again. I had to put my all into this.

It was just… hard. Knowing that even in success, I would be seen as nothing more than a victim. A powerless person thrown into this situation, with no ability to protect herself, or provide… the mere thought of it produced a twisting, knotted sensation deep within me, a pit of darkness so deep and vile that it preoccupied my attention entirely - or at least that would have been my excuse, if Prince Jethroo had bothered to ask why I was trying to pass him without a word.

Instead, he quite firmly planted himself in my path and glared at me until I came to a reluctant halt, some few feet in front of him. Though my home was in view, it might as well have been on another continent for all the help it did me in escaping him.

“What do you want?” My voice wasn’t cold. It was dispassionate. Empty. Something that seemed to throw the prince aback a little, judging by how he blinked at me. In a moment, though, the scowl returned to his lips. 

“I want you to stop pretending.”

“…If this is about me being the real Amelia-”

“Not that!” he interrupted. “I know there’s no sense in trying to talk you out of that, miserable bitch of a plotter as you are - but no. I want you to stop pretending to be so damn miserable all the time!”

“…Excuse me?” I asked, hardly able to believe my ears.

“You heard me! Stop it! I don’t know what your plan is, but stop it. I’ll pay you if I must - anything short of dropping your charges, or putting in a good word for you to father. Just name your price, and it’s yours.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this miserable little impression you’re doing!” Jethroo snapped at me. “It’s worrying everyone who’s actually stupid enough to care about you - which wouldn’t bother me in the slightest, if Pauline didn’t happen to be amongst their number! Did you know she asked me to speak to you today? As your ‘childhood friend’ she said - as if we were ever friends, you and I.”

“Pauline asked you to talk to me?” I asked, frowning. “You… Does that mean she still thinks I’m Amelia?”

“I think you are. She is less certain - but seemed to think that playing the childhood friends card would move me, either way… In truth, I’d rather see you rot in hell, but the mere idea of having to sit there and listen to my dear Pauline as she worries about someone so despicable as you, is… it’s despicable!”

“…Noted. Is that all?” I asked, a faint trace of irritation breaking through my calm. Still, I was careful to keep my face neutral.

“Is that all?” he snapped. “Is that all?” He stepped closer to me, fire in his eyes - and in his hands. “I should burn you where you stand, for the insolence you heap upon me daily, you horrible, horrible woman. I almost hope that Father falls for your lies, just so that I can have the pleasure of personally exposing you the next time you act like your usual self - because next time I catch you trying to hurt Pauline, I will personally burn you to ash.”

He reached for me as he spoke, his burning hands coming perilously close to my bare flesh. I flinched back, tried to step away - and stumbled, twisting my ankle and falling to the floor. He stared at me, from above, contempt and disgust in his eyes, and I realized in that moment that he really would kill me if he thought he could get away with it. That he well and truly wanted me dead.

“You look good on the ground, Miss Amelia,” he spat out, the fire spreading down his arms. “Maybe I should make sure you stay that-”

“Henry!” came a voice, as Bridgette suddenly appeared behind Jethroo. “Oops, sorry - Prince Henry, right? On school grounds and in front of Amy and all… Ehehehe…” Bridgette rubbed the back of her head, laughing, while Jethroo scoffed - and yet there was something almost… performative about it. What’s more, the smirk he showed her looked almost… happy. 

“You need to get these things right, Bridgette - or one of these days you’ll say the wrong thing when I’m king and I’ll actually have to do something about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it!” Bridgette replied, nodding her head with a smile that implied she’d gained nothing at all from the exchange. “So, what are you doing with Miss Amy, huh?”

“Just… giving her a warning,” Jethroo replied, glaring down at me. “One she’d best heed.”

“Uh-huh,” Bridgette replied, nodding. “Because you don’t believe she’s Amy, right? I get it - you wanna look out for everyone! To be honest, though, it uh… kinda looks like you’re just being a jerk and traumatizing an innocent girl.”

“Innocent?!” Jethroo demanded. “You know what she did to me - the things she got up through, all throughout our childhood! The ‘pranks’ she pulled, the schemes she plotted - and every time, she came out of it with an explanation! An excuse to push all the trouble onto me! But not this time! Not this time!”

“Yes, yes,” Bridgette replied, sighing. “You’ve been heavily traumatized. I get it. But… maybe you can go talk with your sister, for a bit? I uh. Really don’t wanna have to go to any of the faculty about you bullying Amy like this…”

“Bully-you…. Fine!” He announced, throwing up his hand and stomping away from us. “Fine. Do as you will.”

“Well, that could have gone better,” Bridgette said, holding out a hand for me. “You want help getting up?”

I said nothing, merely taking her hand and allowing her to pull me upright. Then I brushed myself off, and headed towards the door.

“Not even a thank you?” Bridgette called from behind.

“For what?” I asked. “Sympathizing with the abuser who just threatened to kill me?”

“Yeah, well… Henry has his own things going on…” Bridgette huffed. “I wish he’d go easier on you too, but… you have to know you could have called on me to step in at any time, right?”

“Can I?” I questioned. “You seem pretty chummy with him - how is it that you’re on a first name basis with him, anyhow?”

“You… don’t know?” Bridgette asked, tilting her head to the side. “I thought you said you wrote about all of us?”

“Yes, well, you were… something of a side character,” I confessed. “I wrote that you were close, but I suppose I never realized just how close… Honestly, now that I’m actually thinking of it, I find it odd that someone as prickly as him would befriend the daughter of a baron.”

“Oh, I wasn’t a baron’s daughter when we met,” Bridgette replied. “I was a commoner! An orphan, in fact.”

“An orphan?” I asked, now turning my full attention to her. “Then how…?”

“Well, I was something of a… uh… ‘honorary knight’ even then, I guess? Though really it was mostly just kid’s play… but, well, you know how I can hear people talking, sometimes? Sometimes, I’d hear something really juicy - something downright wicked - and I’d go to the guards, and give them the info, and they’d check it out. They didn’t really take it seriously at first. Just thought it was part of me playing around, you know? But my intel proved good often enough that they started putting their trust in me… So when I told them there were two kids tied up in a merchant’s barrels, they went to check.”

“You don’t mean… Henry and Firanna?”

“Yup! Though uh… don’t let them catch you calling them by name, okay? Prince Henry lets me go on account of the fact that we’re sorta childhood friends, and Firanna… Well, honestly, I think it makes her pout a bit when I put some distance between us at school… She was always tagging along with me and Henry when we were sword training and such, wanting to fetch me water or snacks or… whatever I needed, really. I guess she was just glad to feel included?”

“I’m sure,” I replied, dryly, before turning my attention back to the house. “But I suppose we should get back inside…”

“I suppose we should!” Bridgette agreed. “Or uh… you should. Clara wanted to have a bit of a talk with you.”

“A talk?” I asked, turning around to face her. “With me?”

“With you, My Lady,” Clara confirmed, opening the door to our manor even as she spoke. “About this ‘malaise’ you’ve found yourself in.”

“What about it?” I asked, uncertain I liked where this was going. “I’m just-”

“Wallowing in self pity?” Clara interrupted, arching an eyebrow. “It’s a bad look for you - and even worse look for my Lady. She always projected strength, and yet here you are quivering like a rabbit.”

“But-”

“You made one mistake, and now you’re afraid to make another move lest you make a second?” Clara continued, steamrolling right over me. “You’re so afraid of making a problematic choice that you’ve left yourself entirely defenseless. Useless. Worthless. Just as you see yourself.”

Each word she spoke felt like a physical blow coming down upon me, leaving me emotionally bruised and ready to cry. 

“Then what would you have me do, instead?”

“Only what you already wish to do, my Lady,” Clara replied, pulling a few sheets of paper out of her apron. They had drawings on them - crudely made, twisting lines that I myself had drawn, over the course of the last few nights. “You have an idea of what you want to do with your core, don’t you, my Lady?”

“So what if I do?” I demanded. “I had an idea before, and look where that got me!”

“It got you to the threshold,” Clara calmly replied. “One choice, leading to another. Is that not life? Making choices? Stepping forward? Or would you rather give up on your life entirely? Allow the king to kill you?”

“I… no,” I replied. “Of course not… I don’t want to die.”

“Then live,” Clara instructed me. “Live, and carve your core - now, so that you can get used to it by tomorrow.”

“Why?” I asked. “It’s not as if I’m going to be asked to show the king my progress, is it?” If anything, flashing spells in front of him would likely get me arrested, if not outright killed.

“Because you need to believe you can do it,” Clara replied. “You need to believe in yourself - or else I’m sure you’ll not only be permanently locked in as a simple commoner, but perhaps banished from the school altogether.”

“That’s a possibility?” I asked, aghast.

“Of course it is! This school is for bright minds to learn how to serve their country - not for dullards to mope around. You’ve done no networking, made no attempt to stand out, have done nothing to make yourself useful in the eyes of this kingdom - and now you want to march in front of the king in a depressed sulk and simply hope things go your way? I don’t know what mistakes you have or have not made before, but I will tell you this - that would likely be the greatest and last of them.”

“…You’re right,” I whispered, taking a deep breath. “You’re right…”

Of course, saying so didn’t magically make my depression go away. Neither did it make me feel the least bit more relaxed, or less scared about what might very well be my next mistake… but at least, in that moment, I knew the step I had to take.

Perhaps it was a mistake to act without further thought. To begin carving, without first running my ideas past anyone. It was entirely possible that anyone reasonable would have a thousand ideas why the spell I wanted to carve was stupid. They might even be able to give me better ideas, or else suggest improvements… I knew that…

I also knew that this was what I wanted. That it called to me, in a way nothing else did. That it was a note of potential and possibility amidst the darkness of despair, such that I had been doodling my mental image of it on the sly even as I moped…

So I carved it. A single squiggly line, followed by another and another, all attached to a central point. Right in the middle of the first quadrant - the first book. A central theme that all the subspells would attune to and shift, from that point onwards…

“Is it done?” Clara asked, as my eyes flickered open. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them…

“I… I think so,” I said, taking a deep breath, and focusing. Down, beneath my skirt, where the light did not reach - where shadows dwelled upon the earth - something stirred at my command. I felt something in my core shift as the ink within began to pour out, taking the form I had made for it.

Long, sinewy limbs, dotted with suckers emerged from beneath my skirts, pressing against the ground and lifting me high up in the air. They writhed across the ground on my command, curling around Clara’s ankle and grasping hold of Bridgette’s wrist before she could grab her sword.

“Don’t worry! It’s just my new spell! What do you think?”

“It’s…” Bridgette began, before falling off. “I can’t believe you actually made…”

Clara looked almost shell-shocked, mouthing a word that looked suspiciously like ‘pervert’ again and again.

I let neither of them bother me, absolutely thrilled to finally announce my new spell’s name. “Behold - Eldritch Tentacles!”

~~~
Author's Notes

I feel the need to start off by saying no, this will not lead to any perverted scenes... (At least in the main series. There's potential for future Patreon exclusive chapters, but any such content will be completely skipable so feel free to disregard its future existence.) 

Depression Suddenly Worsened, which is a big part of why you're getting a chapter of this and not Double Trouble. I can apparently still write this even in the throes of such depression, since I'm just a little bit obsessed with it right now - though I'm terrible at judging the quality of chapters in such a state, and invariably forced to turn to friends for reassurance...

Still, I'm pretty sure this chapter's a good one, and I've been excited to show it! (And my friends all swear chapter 18 is great, too, if you wanna read ahead for as little as $1~!)

I sat up in bed, not even bothering to try and close my eyes or sleep. The next couple days would probably be busy, what with Amy meeting with the king and all, but I wasn’t the one who needed to rest.

It had taken a while to convince Amy to sleep. She’d been so excited to play with her new spell - like a child let loose in a sweets shop. It almost made me smile… if not for the nature of what she’d summoned.

Not that tentacles were really a bad thing in and of themselves - even Clara had to admit that, when pushed - but there was something about hers. The way they moved, and shifted in the darkness… Not to mention the fact that she insisted on summoning them from beneath her skirt, of all places, claiming that was where ‘the shadows dwelled most thickly’ - whatever the heck that meant.

Something to do with the ‘eldritch’ concept she kept bringing up? It reminded me of some of the stories I’d heard as a child - of monstrosities that lived and hunted amongst the stars, occasionally devouring one whole and leaving an empty space in our night sky. It really seemed to resonate with Amy when I told her about it, though she insisted it wasn’t actually a monster eating them.

I wasn’t sure how she could be so sure, though. I mean yeah, maybe there was some other explanation in her world, but this was another one altogether! One with magic, and demons, and all sorts of things she claimed didn’t exist back on ‘Earth’ - though, if there were really no demons on this ‘Earth’ of hers, I had to wonder how one had even managed to snag her and bring her here…

I sighed, thinking I should maybe close my eyes and try to sleep anyway. Before I could, though, a knock came across my door - one I’d kinda been expecting, if I was being honest.

“You can come in!” I called out. No way I had enough energy to walk towards the door… or more like I wanted to keep what energy I did have for the conversation I was about to put through.

“Miss Bridgette,” Clara greeted me, curtsying the moment the door was open. “May I speak to you?”

“You do know you can drop the formalities, right?” I asked. “I might be a baron’s daughter, but I still started off as a commoner, in the end…”

“You are currently the highest ranking member of this household,” the maid pointed out.

“Do you always have to stick to the rules so tightly?”

“The rules of decorum are the only shield I have left to hide behind, now that my Lady has lost her status,” Clara replied. “Amy still doesn’t realize just how tight a spot she’s in - but the other servants about this place certainly do. They gossip constantly, whispering and wondering what fate will await her… Right now, she’s in something of a limbo, seeing as how the king has yet to decide her fate… but even if she survives the upcoming meeting, it’ll likely cement her standing in everyone’s mind. The commoners will no longer have to fear her, and the nobles… Well, I’m sure more than a few would love a chance to take Lady Amelia down a peg, even if it is only through a proxy…”

“I know,” I replied, sighing heavily. “I’ve heard things… Though don’t you think you should be more worried about yourself? It can’t be easy serving as a commoner’s maid, in this place.”

“I have my ways of working around such limitations,” Clara replied primly. As expected, I guess - she wasn’t really the type to appreciate other people butting into her business. “And, as much as it pains me to admit it, your presence helps - you might only be a baron’s daughter, and a knight in training, but everyone knows how close you are to royalty. Fear that word might get back to you - well, I suppose that’s another shield that can be wielded, if need be. For my Lady’s sake.”

“For Amelia’s, you mean… You know, you really should give Amy a chance. You might actually find that you like her!”

“Like you do, Miss Bridgette?” Clara asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Me? No. I’m just fulfilling my duty as a knight - keeping the innocents safe, and all that…”

“And keeping an eye on her for the king,” Clara noted.

I grimaced. “That too, I guess… It’s not like I’m reporting her every word back to him or anything, though. He just wants me to form an opinion on whether or not she’s really Amelia - and we both know she isn’t.”

“Indeed…” Clara said, sighing. “Did you know I had to talk her out of carving the first subspell? She said she wanted to use the shape of a sponge - so that it could absorb mana from the atmosphere, and become ‘all spongey’ to absorb attacks as well. An interesting idea, I suppose, but not one to do on impulse… not before figuring out its placement with Pauline and Professor Devulchas, at least…”

“She is pretty impulsive, isn’t she?”

“You’re smiling, Miss Bridgette,” Clara noted. “Should I take that as a sign you like her after all?”

“Am I?” I frowned. I hadn’t even noticed, but… “I guess I do. Sorta. She’s… I don’t know. Impulsive? Kinda stupid? Really annoying to talk to, sometimes, too…”

“And yet something tells me you’d stay by her side even without the king’s orders,” Clara remarked.

“…Maybe…” I confessed. “She’s just so… I don’t know… Maybe it’s just that feeling of being needed?”

“Perhaps,” Clara replied. There was a weird smugness in her tone that kinda made me want to throw something at her, but I decided to be the better person and ignore it.

“So why are you really here, anyway?” I asked, to change the subject. “Is this about the tentacles? Because I know having something like that crawling out from under your ‘Lady’s’ skirt can be a bit… much, but I don’t think she’s really planning to use them for something perverted. I’m not even sure how she could.”

“I’ve read… literature on the subject,” Clara replied, her cheeks tinged pink. Under other circumstances I might have - okay, definitely would have - teased her about it, but it was pretty clear Clara had something else to say.

After a moment of awkward silence, she finally got to the point. “The day after tomorrow… when Amy meets with the king… I want you to listen in.”

“Listen in?” I asked. “On the king? You do realize there’s, like, privacy wards and stuff keeping that from happening, right? Not to mention the small fact that it’s kinda treasonous.”

“On her way to and from that conversation then,” Clara replied, shifting her plans so quick you’d think she’d been expecting that answer all along. Which maybe she did? Maybe that was her idea of sneakily getting me to ‘compromise.’ It sounded like her. “I want you to listen. And, if she seems to be in trouble - if she’s to be locked up and executed, or some such… I want you to rescue her.”

“Okay, that’s definitely treason,” I protested. “There’s no way I can do that!”

“Would you rather watch her die for the crimes of another?” Clara asked, arching an eyebrow.

“That… Well… No,” I admitted. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. “But I also don’t want to betray the kingdom, and throw away my knightly pride.”

“Is that so?” Clara asked, her tone cold. “Tell me, Lady Bridgette - why did you seek to become a knight in the first place?”

“Can you just stick to ‘miss’ like everyone else, please?” I asked, grimacing. “You know the whole ‘technically an aristocrat’ thing still makes my skin itch… I don’t like being seen as above other people.”

Clara didn’t reply. She just sort of stared at me, waiting for me to reply.

“Fine. I wanted to become a knight to help people, alright? Does that answer your question?”

“And becoming a royal guard would help you with that… how, exactly?” Clara pressed.

“I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe I could help Prince Henry do good things? Make the right choices? Plus, he’s kinda sorta a friend…”

“And yet you’re here with me and my Lady, instead,” Clara pointed out. “People he despises.”

“Only because Amy needs me…”

“Much more than ‘Prince Henry,’ I would say. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that she needs protection from Prince Henry most of all.”

“Ugh…” That was true. Henry was… Well, he was sort of obsessed… not that I could really blame him. Amelia caused him a lot of pain and trouble, and always found some way to get herself out of trouble. He just didn’t want to believe she’d managed it yet again.

“I’m just saying, Miss Bridgette… perhaps you should put more thought into exactly what sort of knight you want to be?”

I didn’t reply. Mostly because Clara turned her back and left before I could, but also because I really didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t… I probably wasn’t going to be able to help people the way I wanted to, staying by Henry’s side… Not directly, at least… but, for a long time, I’d been thinking that maybe indirectly helping was enough? Maybe helping him to be a better person, to make the right decisions, and telling him how the common folk lived… maybe it could do more good than just being one more knight on horseback…?

At the same time, though… if he truly threatened Amy… Was I really going to let him get away with sending an innocent to her death?

I wanted to say no… but at the same time, I couldn’t help but remember earlier that day. How I’d stayed by the sidelines until the last moment. How I’d failed to be there for Amy, telling myself that she could surely get through to Henry if just given the chance… that he would be reasonable. Even though he clearly wasn’t…

I sighed again - deeper and longer this time - before collapsing down upon my bed, not even bothering to strip out of my armor. I didn’t need to be comfortable. I needed to think… at least until I passed out and fell asleep.

When I finally did, though, I just knew it wasn’t going to lead to pleasant dreams…

I didn’t sleep well that night. Too excited by my new magic, I suppose… The tentacles weren’t too strong, as of yet - they lacked substance. They were easily cut through, or even pulled away from by someone with enough force. What’s more, the heavier an object I tried to lift with them, the more mana they demanded to get it done - though lifting myself seemed to be an exception to the rule. Perhaps because it was my own spell?

So many questions running through my head - so much to experiment with. I wanted to carve my first subspell immediately, if only so that I’d have more time to play with the tentacles - they took mana just to exist as it stood, and that mana was painfully slow to recuperate - but I knew full well that Pauline and Professor Devulchas would both yell at me something fierce if I did…

…Well, okay, Pauline wouldn’t yell, but she would give me a really disappointed expression which was somehow kind of worse? 

Still, even without being able to keep them out without limit, my excitement at least knew no bounds. I spent the entirety of the next day exploring and practicing and figuring out what I could and couldn’t pull off. Not that I really learned much - but it was exciting! I was casting magic! Using tentacles! Eldritch tentacles of pure shadow!

I wondered if I should maybe use a subspell to give them eyes? And teeth? …Well, maybe not teeth, that might be a touch too creepy… How would it even work? Would I give them fully functional mouths? Would they be able to eat? Would they need to eat?

No, definitely not teeth… but eyes? Eyes were a ‘maybe,’ especially if I had the power to make them appear and disappear at will. I also wanted something to harden them, so that they could strike strong and defend better against sharp strikes that might go right through the spongy defenses I already had planned… and maybe I could do cold damage with them, too? Frosty chilly tentacles that would freeze you to your bones before smashing down upon you, hard and tough as a rock!

There was so much to do, so much to plan, that I honestly half expected to stay awake the next night as well - but in the end, sleepiness claimed me.

Which was honestly probably for the best, since Bridgette came knocking on my door the next morning, bright and early, to ready me for my visit with the king. 

~~~

Author's Notes

This chapter looks nothing like I thought it would,. I expected it to mostly be playing with tentacles, but then I thought about Bridgette and Clara talking and the next thing I knew the chapter was practically over... Oops?

Oh well. Hope you enjoyed! It's undergone some slight editing as of today, to better differentiate Bridgette's voice from Amy in terms of internal monologue - hope that helps?

Patreon is currently up to chapter 21 by the way - a 5 chapter buffer. I'm going to try and keep it that way, but we'll see how it goes. You can read ahead, now, for as little as $1~!

I was met at the door by a knight dressed in plate mail. She bore the royal crest, a gryphon on a red field, emblazoned on her armor’s chest, and had little interest in talking to me. She confirmed my identity as ‘Amelia,’ and that was that - even as I tried to tell her I preferred ‘Amy,’ she turned away and gestured for me to follow her.

She led me to the school’s administrative building. More specifically, to the principal’s office - the best the school could arrange under the circumstances, I suppose. The king sat behind a large desk, swept clean of all personal belongings. Behind him were two more guards. They were armored, similarly to the one who’d brought me there, but the background of their crests were purple instead of red.

“You may leave us,” the king told the leading guard, who nodded her head while placing a fist upon her heart. She turned and left, closing the door behind her.

“Amelia,” the king stated, studying me. “Or should I say Amy?”

“I’d prefer Amy,” I replied, cautiously studying the king in turn. He had short cropped brown hair, and his eyes reminded me of flames. Eyes that were regarding me with a quiet intensity.

“You look just like her, you know,” he said, after a moment.

“I would,” I replied, weighing how much to tell the king. Bridgette would probably urge me to tell him everything, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to trust him with that… “I’m in her body, after all.”

“Yes - the work of a demon, correct?” the king asked. He chuckled, then, no doubt noticing how my eyes had widened in alarm. “Bridgette sent me a missive. She might be in your court, girl, but she’s still loyal to the crown - and I’m the one who sent her to guard you, besides. Never forget that.”

I nodded, biting my lip. Of course. I’d been thinking of Bridgette as… as an ally, I suppose, if not a friend. But she wasn’t hanging around me because she wanted to, was she? From the start, it had been nothing but orders - that and her sense of justice.

“Oh dear,” came a familiar voice, making me shiver as my face paled. “You’re making the poor thing depressed… It’s almost as if you’re aiming for some sort of miscommunication arc.”

The king tensed, while his guards moved to grab their weapons. I didn’t bother to respond beyond a tired sigh, though - not even when the demon manifested right besides me, a smile on their face.

“They do this sometimes,” I explained. “Please believe me when I say that I have no control over them.”

“Of course,” the king replied, his tone betraying not even a hint of wariness as he placed a familiar looking stone upon the desk. “The purpose of this meeting is trust, after all.”

“Oh?” the demon murmured, glancing between me, the king, and then the stone. “You’re putting it out in the open? You’d think someone like you would play their cards closer to their chest - and yet here you are, exposing it, despite being within its radius yourself.”

“Come now,” the king said, turning his full attention to the demon. “I think all three of us know there’s no reason to even try to get away with lies in front of Miss Amy, here. I lose nothing by letting the stone alert her to lies she can already detect.”

“You…” I started, then stopped. Had Bridgette told him that as well?

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” the king said, letting out a sigh. “I’ve known about Lady Amelia’s truth telling ability for quite some time - since she developed it, in fact. For all of Duke Tearbolt’s many flaws and ambitions, he’s actually quite loyal - told me first thing that a new truthteller had been born to the kingdom.”

“A truthteller?” I asked. “That hardly feels like an apt description of Amelia.”

“And yet the term has long been set so,” the king replied, smiling wryly. “Though I do find it hard to argue with you there… She wasn’t always a liar, of course… but that girl closed her heart off from a young age, I’m afraid. No doubt sick of all the lies she detected around herself.”

“Just so,” I murmured, thinking back to how I’d written her. The king didn’t seem to know about her future sight, seeing as how Amelia had kept that secret even from her Father.

Why wouldn’t she, when her very first vision had been of her Father’s eventual betrayal?

The demon clapped their hands. “Yes, yes, that’s all well and good, and I’m glad we’re putting things out in the open, but forcing you two to talk about obvious things isn’t really why I’m here.”

“You’re the one who brought this conversation about in the first place, though!”

“I did, didn’t I? And yet now I’m bored of it. Such is the way of things, sometimes - as I’m sure you’ll learn as you grow older… again. For now, though, the important part is that Bridgette likes you. Understand? She isn’t just spending time with you because the king commanded it, or because her knightly code demanded it, or whatever other thoughts are going through your brain.”

“You seriously came here just to tell me that?” I asked, irritated. “This is my meeting with the king! To prove I’m not Amelia!”

“And you’re doing a fine job of it,” the demon assured me. “But seriously - I’ve read things with miscommunication arcs. I won’t name names, but let’s just say that reading fifty plus chapters of it gets annoying.”

“This isn’t a story!” I protested. “This is my life!”

“And my entertainment!” the demon replied. “Aren’t I allowed to pop in and keep things interesting?”

“You… you…” I scowled at them. 

“Ah-hem.” The king cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to him, a light blush tinging my cheeks. 

“Apologies, your Majesty,” I murmured, dropping into a curtsy.

“Enough of that,” the king said, waving for me to get up. “It’s good that the demon is here - it helps to prove your story. That you were forced into this body by another’s hands, at the true Amelia’s request - is that correct?”

“It is,” I said, nodding my head.

“Indeed,” the demon confirmed. “The girl - Amelia - asked to be taken away from this place… and I obliged.”

“And so the girl in question is safe?” the king asked, arching an eyebrow.

The demon smiled. “I really should be going - there’s someone waiting for me, you see. I promised to show them a new story - I’d tell you the title, but it would only torment you knowing that you wouldn’t be able to read it… Oh, who am I kidding? That only makes it better! It’s called-”

“Out!” I shouted, causing the demon to laugh as they turned their way out of existence once again. 

“…So that’s the demon that plagues you,” the king remarked. “Bridgette described them as such, but I must admit - I found it difficult to believe… or perhaps I merely didn’t want to believe that such a powerful being could act so chaotically and without restraint upon my lands…”

“They haven’t actually hurt anyone yet,” I remarked, frowning. “In fact, I’m not sure they can…” They were limited, at the very least - or else why would the demon have used a potion upon me, instead of simply saving me themselves? Unless they really did simply lack the ability to do healing magic, but… Well, so far the demon had at least tried to present themselves as omniscient, if not all powerful. They always seemed to show up at exactly the right moment, and knew exactly what was going on. Were they really just watching me that frequently? Or was there more at play?

“Is there something on your mind?” the king asked me.

I shook my head. “No-” I began, only to pause when the stone turned bright red. “I mean, yes, but… I’m not certain enough of anything for it to be worth articulating.”

This time the stone remained inert. The king nodded. “Very well, then. It’s a relief to know that the stone is working, at least. Can you then state one more time, for the record, that you are not the original Amelia, or the one who committed the crimes she was to be executed for?”

“I am not the original Amelia,” I said, my voice kept as firm as I could make it. “And I have not committed any crimes within this kingdom, to my knowledge.”

The stone did not react, and the king smiled. “Wonderful. A pleasure to hear it. In that case, I am proud to declare you innocent of all charges, and free to continue living your life. I’ll contact your father - or rather Amelia’s father - about adopting you back into the family. You’ll need that sort of backing if we want to keep the local riffraff from bothering you.”

“…What?” I asked, hardly able to believe my ears. “Wh-why would you do that? Why would you go that far for me? And… and adopting me? The Duke? I’m just a stranger to him! If anything, shouldn’t he despise me for taking over his daughter’s body?”

“If anything, I’m afraid he’d thank you,” the king replied, shaking his head. “I mentioned the man had faults, and I fear this is one of them - he’d likely see this as the restoration of a useful tool to the kingdom.”

“A tool?” I parroted. “What do you mean a tool?”

“Let it be known that I’m not quite so cynical in my view,” the king explained, no doubt hoping to placate me. “But yes - a truthteller makes for a powerful asset to any kingdom. Do you know how enchantments are made?”

“Enchantments?” I asked, confused by the sudden shift in topic. “No?”

“Enchantments come in two forms. One is beast cores, which can be crafted into items that replicate a monster’s natural abilities. The other is ‘imprinting’ - something generally done with the help of a dedicated enchanter. Essentially, the special abilities certain people are born with - like your truth telling, and Bridgette’s ability to hear things on the wind - can be imprinted onto enchanted items. This is where truthstones come from. And considering how important truthstones are in any noble courtroom…”

“So my ability makes me valuable?” I asked. “Is that why you want me back in the Duke’s family? To tie me to the kingdom, and make use of my ability?”

“It’s certainly a factor,” the king replied, without an ounce of shame. “But I do believe it would be best for you, as well.”

“And if I refuse?” I asked, my tone colder than I’d intended it to be.

The king tilted his head, confused. “Why wouldn’t you? The alternative is to live as a commoner once you leave this school.”

“A commoner with a royal education,” I pointed out. “I’m sure I’ll be able to make a name for myself.”

“And if you were to lose access to that education?” the king asked. “You have no money to pay tuition - without a scholarship from me, you won’t be getting any degrees from this institution.”

“That’s… I… you won’t do that. Not if you truly want to make use of my ability.” So I said, but in truth I was shaken by the king’s words.

“We don’t need you to be willing to serve as imprinting material,” the king remarked, and for a moment his eyes seemed to go cold - but then he closed them, and sighed. “But as I said before, that is only one factor in my decision… so very well. I will not force the issue - but I must again ask why. Why are you so determined to avoid becoming the duke’s daughter?”

“I…” I hesitated, there. Not because I didn’t want to say, but because I wasn’t entirely sure myself. It just felt… wrong to me, I suppose. Signing up to join him, after the way he’d so casually thrown aside Amelia… and… and more than that… there was something else. Something harder to explain. A revulsion at the idea of belonging to that man, again, in the eyes of the law…

“If you don’t wish to speak of it, you don’t have to,” the king said, with surprising gentleness, before glancing at the truthstone. “In fact, perhaps it’s better for me not to know…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, frowning.

The king chuckled. “Secrets, my dear - even kings must keep them. But still - I’m afraid this puts me in a difficult position… You see, I need to keep you connected to this kingdom. Becoming the Duke’s daughter again was one way to accomplish it - but, in truth, one could say it was part of the set-up for the true trap… to engage you once more to my son.”

“You wouldn’t!” I whispered, horrified.

“I would,” the king said, his eyes again going cold, and his voice stern. “For the sake of my people, I’d force both your hands…”

“I’d rather die than marry a man,” I said, instantly. “I’m… I used to be a man, so… so…”

“Men take men as lovers all the time,” the king remarked, shaking his head. “But very well. If it’s his masculinity you have an issue with, then there’s an easy solution - a better fitting one, in fact, considering it avoids traumatizing Henry further… And there will be less of an outcry from the nobles, no doubt - especially his supporters, of which there are quite a few… Yes, I think this will work out quite nicely indeed…”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

The king smiled. “I mean to engage you to my daughter - Firanna.”

~~~

Author'sNotes

Well, looks like Amy's keeping her head at least! That's the main takeaway here, right? ...Right?

We'll be diving a bit more thoroughly into the king's plans and motives next chapter, for the record, so don't worry if there's something you don't understand quite yet.

If you'd like to read ahead, please do considering joining my Patreon, where you can read up to chapter 22 for as little as $1!

“Firanna!? You can’t be serious! She hates me!”

“She hates Amelia,” the king corrected me. “And something tells me she’ll be quite happy to stay by your side, so long as a certain blonde knight sticks close by.”

“You… Are you seriously trying to set her up with me and Bridgette in the same breath?” I demanded.

“Why not?” he asked, in turn. “It’s quite common for the members of arranged marriages to take a lover or two. I would hardly expect you to remain loyal to her, either, after being forced into this. Besides, whether Firanna appreciates it or not, it’s a far better fate than she expected to befall her. Up until this point, it seemed likely I’d be marrying her to an out-of-country prince or some such. It’s doubtful Bridgette would have agreed to go with her in such a case.”

“You… you can’t really expect me to go through with this, can you?”

“I can, and I do,” the king said, his voice firm and his eyes cold once more. “You refused me once, Amy, and I allowed it - but don’t think you can get away with defying me twice.”

“I… I get that you want me to be tied to this kingdom, but surely there has to be another way? Couldn’t you… I don’t know, adopt me or something?”

“I considered it,” the king admitted, before shaking his head. “But based on what I’ve seen so far, can we be absolutely sure that Amelia is gone for good? That the demon won’t put her back in your body on a whim?”

“I…” I hesitated, glancing at the truthstone on the table. With my own recent doubts, there was no way I could convince myself, let alone him, that the possibility wasn’t there.

“Engagements can be cancelled. Adoptions are a much trickier matter, once finalized.”

“That’s… I don’t even like her…”

“I think we’ve already established that there’s no need for such things in an arranged marriage,” the king chided me, his voice gentle but firm. “Please - make this easy on both of us and agree? It’s not as if you’ll necessarily have to go through with the wedding, in any case.”

“What… what do you mean?” I asked, instinctively attempting to cling to this new hope he was offering me.

“I said earlier that engagements can be cancelled, can they not?” the king reminded me. “The engagement will start out a secret - something written on paper, that I can use against you if need be, but which needn’t be pulled out so long as you remain loyal to the crown. Ideally, you would accomplish something worthy of a title, before I even thought of making it public - but, depending on the title earned, and the services rendered, it might be that the marriage isn’t even important, in the end. In such a case, the engagement could be annulled without anyone knowing the better.”

“That.. makes sense,” I replied, my own tone cautious. He hadn’t lied. I was sure of that… but something about the way he’d spoken still put me on edge… Still, if this was truly the only way forward… “I want a stipend.”

“A stipend?” the king asked, frowning.

“Yes. Something I can spend on food, and clothes, and cores and the like.”

“Food and clothes, yes,” the king agreed. “But cores might remain outside your budget, even with a royal stipend, I fear. They’re too useful to be sold cheap.”

“Then I guess mana potions are also off the table?” I asked, already ready to heave a sigh.

“A commoner’s potions would be fine, but I’ve heard from Professor Devulchas already about your problem - you need high grade mana potions, and a large supply at that.”

“Are you saying the king can’t afford to supply me with mana potions?” I demanded.

He shook his head. “No. I’m saying that supplying you long term would be a considerable investment - one that you haven’t proven yourself worthy of yet. Perhaps once we’ve gotten things set up so that you can produce truthstones, it’ll be different, but for now I’d rather keep that ability of yours a secret…”

“A secret?” I asked. “Just like the engagement… is there a reason you don’t want to be officially tied to me?”

“Other than the optics of overturning a conviction and marrying a commoner in the body of an aristocrat to my own daughter in the same breath? I suppose there’s also the fact that the main value of truthstones is how rare the talent required to make them is - there are plenty in the school who would seek to turn you towards their own gain, and plenty outside the school that would see you ended before you could devalue their claims in such a market. But also, I just think you deserve to learn a little about this world you’re in, and settle in, before we even consider announcing the production of truthstones in this area.”

“I… guess that makes sense,” I confessed. It sounded sensible, at least. “Then… there’s truly no way out of this?”

“You speak as if being married to my daughter is the worst fate possible.”

“No. That would be marrying Prince Henry…”

The king laughed. 

I didn’t.

***

In the end, I was forced to accept the king’s proposal. At least he promised to personally handle telling Firanna about it - a duty I very much did not envy.

As it was, I still had to tell Bridgette and Clara. I left out the bit about Firanna’s interest in Bridgette, figuring that it really wasn’t my place to intercede there. As it was, though, neither my maid nor knight took it very well.

“So he’s forcing Firanna to marry you?” Bridgette asked, for the umpteenth time. “That doesn’t seem very fair to either of you…”

“I mean, there might not even be a wedding in the end!” I pointed out. “That’s what the king said… and he wasn’t lying, I know that much.”

“But did he ever make any concrete promises?” Clara asked. “From the way you speak of it, it seems to me he mostly kept to hypotheticals.”

“Yes, well… maybe?” I confessed. “I’m not really sure… but it’s a chance, and I have to take it! For everyone’s sake!”

“Yeah!” Bridgette agreed. “I mean, there’s no way I’m okay with my two friends getting married! Not when you don’t even like each other!”

“Wait, two friends?” I asked. “You consider me a friend?”

“Well… yeah?” Bridgette replied, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, I guess? You’re someone I’m trying to keep safe, anyway… and you’re kinda fun to talk to? In a really annoying way that somehow always makes me want to come back for more.”

“Annoying!? If anyone here gets on the nerves, I’d argue it’s you!” I protested.

“See? This is exactly what I mean!” Bridgette complained, throwing her arms up. “I can’t even pay you a compliment without it turning into a whole thing.”

“Which part of any of that was complimentary!?”

“If I may?” Clara interrupted. “It would seem to me that a proper friend wouldn’t be reporting back to the king behind their friend’s back.”

“Urk…” Bridgette looked a bit sick at that. “You’re… probably right. But it’s my duty as a knight!”

“A knight in training,” Clara replied. “One who might very well need to decide who her loyalty truly lies with, and soon.”

“I mean, it’s not like any of you are actually planning to move against the crown, right?” she pointed out. “So there’s not really a conflict of interest!”

“Perhaps not,” I admitted. “But it certainly makes it difficult to trust you with anything, knowing we can’t truly trust you to keep your mouth shut.”

“That’s… fair, I guess,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “And now Firanna’s getting thrown into this mess, too, huh?”

“As if things weren’t already enough of a mess,” I sighed. “And I couldn’t even get that stingy king to promise me mana potions…”

“I mean, they are pretty expensive,” Bridgette replied. “Anything made with a beast core will be…”

“But so expensive a king cannot afford them?” Clara asked. “No, I do not believe that for an instant. It’s almost as if he wants you to earn them yourself, for some reason…”

“Well, the only way that’s happening is if I become an adventurer, apparently,” I grumbled. 

“An adventurer?” Clara asked, her lips twisting with distaste.

“Be careful bandying that term around,” Bridgette warned me. “A lot of people consider it an insult - especially coming from a noble.”

“Why would it be an insult?” I asked, blinking in surprise. I didn’t recall writing anything like that.

“Because adventurers ‘venture out’ to make their fortunes, in the words of nobles,” Clara informed me. “That’s why nobles refer to them as such to begin with…”

“So, what do they call themselves?” I asked.

“Some of them do call themselves that,” Clara replied. “Apparently it’s different coming from their own lips… but most would prefer to tell you their specific job in The Guild.”

“The Guild? Like… the… well, I guess they wouldn’t call it an adventurer’s guild, huh?”

“Officially, it’s the Hunter Gatherer Healer Freelancing Guild - but most just refer to it as ‘The Guild’ for brevity’s sake.”

“And because everybody has an opinion on which of those words should have come first,” Bridgette interjected, with a smug smile that practically screamed, ‘Look at me! I know stuff too.’ “I heard it started out as a whole bunch of individual guilds, but they were all so interdependent on each other that they just sorta started merging.”

“Really?” I asked. “Hunting and gathering seem rather distinct - and I can only see the former really requiring healing on the regular.”

“What are you talking about?” Bridgette asked, giving me a puzzled look. “There’s no way any gatherers would be dumb enough to enter dangerous forests and the like without some form of protection from monsters. And the hunters usually like taking in some extra revenue from magic plants when they’re in the area anyway, so they usually want to party with gatherers. Best case scenario, they get to ride along as free protection without even doing anything… which sometimes led to gatherers not wanting to pay them. That’s one of the problems that combining it all into one guild was meant to solve, I think?”

“Your education on it apparently surpasses mine,” Clara confessed, shaking her head. “I can imagine that anyone who risked their lives outside the gate would occasionally find themselves in need of a healer, though.”

“Yeah!” Bridgette confirmed. “Sometimes, people even form parties with them - though there’s actually still a dedicated healer’s guild out there, so most of the really talented ones tend to go there instead of joining ‘The Guild.’ Still, any healing is better than none when you’re on the road!”

“You say that almost as if you’ve experienced it,” Clara remarked, causing Bridgette to blush.

“I haven’t,” she confessed, “but… if I hadn’t lucked into becoming a knight, for real, I probably would have had to join The Guild, you know? It was sort of my backup dream, I guess you could say…”

“And so you learned a lot about it, I suppose?” Clara asked.

Bridgette nodded. “Yeah… though uh… I’ve gotta admit, I still have no idea how freelancers worked themselves into the mix… maybe The Guild was just already such a mishmash that people kept coming to them for various things anyway?”

“Or they wanted freelancers to do stuff that involved leaving the cities?” I suggested.

“Not that it really matters,” Clara remarked, “but… I personally think they must have come up with the idea, in the first place. It’s the only reason I can think of.”

“Either way,” Bridgette said , “you might want to give The Guild a visit yourself, Amy. Especially if you want to hunt monsters for their cores.”

“Shouldn’t I learn to fight, first?” I asked. “Professor Devulchas said there’s classes I could take for combat?”

“Those are classes on how to fight humans for the most part,” Bridgette replied. “In case you’re ever called upon to defend yourself, or your country. You’ll want the lessons they give at The Guild itself - and the books they have, for members. Though I suppose the library here might have some good stuff, too?”

“Maybe…” I agreed. “I’ll have to visit both, I guess?” Hopefully I’d have time for both within the next week - assuming Firanna didn’t disrupt my life too badly.

In the end, Amy accepted my proposal - much to my own relief. Not so much to the relief of my daughter, who glared daggers at me for even thinking of using Bridgette as a bargaining chip… not that it stopped her from taking the offer, in the end. She knew she’d get none better.

As for myself? I held only a simple wish - that the prophecy would complete in my favor… 

“A shadow born of shadow, with flesh born from duke and duchess, shall make the kingdom right and whole or else see it burned to ashes.”

~~~
Author's Notes

I wrote this chapter while dealing with depression, and only my friend Sammy's approval convinced me it was decent enough to post at the time...

I'm still not sure it was a good idea to do that bit from the King's perspective - I initially worried people would call the king's actions out as unrealistic or something if I didn't explain a bit better, but now.... I don't know. Done is done, though, and I don't hate it.

Currently doing a bit better, depression wise? Though I kinda spent the entirety of yesterday in bed (only getting up long enough to feed my pet and her food) and today all my limbs feel like noodles... Still, I managed to write two things today, so that's a win in my book! (There might be a third thing coming, in terms of bonus content for the $5+ patrons, but we'll see how that goes...)

Planning to work on Naughty Magic next, if anyone's curious, meaning there won't be another chapter of MOV until at least Friday (possibly not until Sunday, since I do need to get some editing done Fri and Sat is my next day off... We'll see how it goes.)

Of course, if you're in a hurry to read ahead, you can read five chapters on Patreon for as little as $1~! You'll also get two bonus chapters of Naughty Magic, and Hatching a Heroine (which just updated today) while you're at it.

PS: Went and wrote that bonus chapter for $5 plus patrons... It's a completely skippable somewhat steamy scene that'll be made available for $1 patrons on 8/01. It won't be coming to the public, though, since I want the public releases to remain purely SFW.

It was barely past the break of dawn when I arrived at Amelia’s home. I thought it unlikely that this ‘Amy’ I’d been engaged to would be awake - not that I particularly cared about that at the moment. It wasn’t as if I’d gotten any sleep, after all, so why should she?

Thankfully, I knew for a fact that Bridgette was an early riser, and as for the maid… Well, I couldn’t really be bothered to care, honestly.

Unfortunately, my knuckles had barely grazed upon the door when it was suddenly pulled open from the other side, not allowing me to make much noise at all.

“Princess Firanna,” Clara said, her voice flat. “What do you want?”

“Did you not hear?” I all but snarled. “I’m to be moved in. Preferably right next to Bridgette.”

“So on the other side of the house?” Clara asked, arching an eyebrow. “Did you know she snores?”

“Of course I know she snores!” I snapped. “Now take me to your mistress - or rather, my betrothed.”

“We were told that the engagement was to be a secret,” Clara replied, her brow furrowing. “How does moving in with us possibly facilitate that?”

“Me being able to sleep close to Bridgette is the only reason I even agreed to this farce - and you should be grateful I did, seeing as how my presence in this household implies some form of connection between the royal family and your mistress. It might be enough to prevent people from taking their grudges with Amelia out on Amy.”

“Does that mean you believe my Lady’s story now?” Clara asked, arching an eyebrow.

“What I believe hardly matters,” I replied, bitterly. “She convinced Father, and that’s enough.” 

At least I hoped he was sufficiently convinced, considering he had essentially chained my future to hers. Though he said that the truthstone had left no room for doubt, I couldn’t help but worry this was some sort of plot. He’d always gone easy on Amelia, after all - getting him to agree to her execution was even harder than convincing the duke.

“Be that as it may,” Clara said, “I’m afraid my Lady is currently indisposed, so-”

“Indisposed?” I demanded. “Indisposed.I was indisposed earlier, myself - during the meeting that apparently decided my future fate! So excuse me if I don’t care much about what your mistress is up!”

If I had fire magic, like my father and half brother, then I’d likely have been fuming for real at that point. As it was, I had to settle for giving Clara an icy glare until she reluctantly stepped out of my way. “Very well. Just… try not to be too shocked…”

“Shocked?” I asked, not even waiting for her to finish getting out of the way before barging my way past. “What could possibly be more shocking than finding out that I’m en….gaged….”

I stopped in place, my mouth hanging agape as I stared at the source of my troubles. The girl I’d come to lecture. The girl I’d have to live with.

The woman who was most definitely not Amelia… for honestly, I don’t think I’d ever seen that woman let out such an innocent smile as the one on ‘Amy's’ face. And I certainly couldn’t imagine her showing such an expression while playing with her tentacles.

“Oh - ah… Firanna. What’s up?”

“I… you…” I hesitated. “What are you even doing? Why do you have tentacles?”

“They’re my spell!” Amy explained. “I’ve been experimenting with giving them eyes and stuff - and it kinda works? But I can’t see through them, so I’m taking a break for now and just testing out what I can do with them!”

“Testing… Eyes and… why would you give them eyes?”

“Other than the practical application of seeing through them?” she asked. “Because it’s way more eldritch when there’s eyes and mouths and stuff!”

“I… I see…” I murmured, taking a step back. Was this really the woman I was engaged to?

“Look,” I began, deciding to be diplomatic, “about our living arrangements…”

“Living arrangements?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.

“She says that she’s moving in with us,” Clara informed her.

“Oh… I wasn’t aware of that… It must kinda suck from your side, huh? Being stuck with me all of a sudden… Sorry I didn’t really think of that before… though in my defense, I didn’t exactly have a lot of options.”

“Yes, well, living with you does have its upsides,” I admitted, suddenly finding myself unwilling to convey the fact that I’d chosen to live here of my own accord. “But that’s not what I’m here for. I want to talk about Bridgette.”

“Bridgette?” she asked, blinking at me.

“Bridgette?” Bridgette asked, opening her door and stepping out into the hall. “What’s that about me?”

I felt my mind go blank, as it always seemed to when Bridgette was in the room. My pulse quickened, and words suddenly became hard to grasp. I didn’t know why it was always like this - I’d known her for years, and yet had never once been able to get close to her without making a fool of myself in one way or another…

“Firanna?” Bridgette asked. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yesh,” I mumbled. “I um… I’m going to be… ah… living with you?”

“Really?” Bridgette asked. “Like, in my room, or… just here in general?”

“Here! In general! I mean. Not your room. I mean, can you imagine that? Me rooming with you? Me, in the same tight quarters as you…”

“Guess it would get pretty cramped, huh?” Bridgette replied, with a little laugh. Such a cute laugh. “Plus, I’m told I snore, so… Yeah. Probably for the best you claim your own room.”

I forced myself to nod, and not think about what she might have said had I given a different answer…

The rest of the conversation went in a blur, as she led in a kitchen. I could hardly taste the food, and couldn’t tell you what I’d eaten even moments after it was finished.

In fact, I didn’t come to my senses until after Bridgette and the others had already left for their classes… meaning I was running late for mine.

Oh why, oh why, did Bridgette always affect me like this? How was I supposed to woo the girl if I couldn’t even string two words together near her!?

Classes continued as they always had. Which is to say that I was largely ignored by my classmates and teachers alike, but I was fine with that. I was there to learn, not make friends.

Though, admittedly, making friends as well would have been nice… I wondered if the king would maybe make some public statement about me not being Amelia? Or, if he didn’t have the time, he could at least make the principal do it, right? Then maybe people would be a bit less scared of me.

Such thoughts were for the future, though - in the present, I was simply glad to be done with the majority of my classes, and excited for the prospect of Core Carving class. Partially because I was really looking forward to carving my first subspells, but also because of Pauline.

She… still didn’t seem to know how to feel about me, honestly. In fact, I was fairly sure I made her downright uncomfortable with my existence from time to time… but the smile she gave when she greeted me, so innocent and free of ulterior motive, was nevertheless healing for my heart after a day of being largely ignored, with the occasional glare or squeak of fright thrown in for flavor. 

“You’re still taking classes,” Pauline noted, a particularly bright smile on her face. “I’m guessing that means everything went alright with the king?”

“I’ve been cleared of all charges,” I confirmed, unable to resist smiling myself. “One hundred percent not the girl who tried to kill you.”

“Just the one who wrote about it,” she replied, her tone taking on a teasing edge.

“Yes, well… Ah-hem… I uh… I carved my first spell.”

“You did!?” Pauline asked, the previous topic instantly forgotten. “What did you go with? Something to pull in mana? Or extra hands? I’ve always thought extra hands would be useful, myself.”

“Well, it’s sortof like extra hands,” I said. “Only better.” Saying so, I reached for the magic in my core and passed it through the marks I’d made, activating my spell - though I only formed one tentacle this time, which slithered out from under my skirt to give Pauline a wave.

“Oh! It’s… um…”

“It’s a tentacle,” I explained. “Like an octopus has! Only, you know… not quite that?” Eyes began to open up across the length of the tentacles as I spoke, some of them blinking up at her, while others looked in various directions. It was probably a good thing that I couldn’t see through them, come to think of it… That one spinning eye alone would probably be enough to make me dizzy.

“Ah… that’s… Um… I guess I can see why it’s better than hands, if you can see through them?”

“I can’t, actually,” I admitted, closing the eyes and making them disappear. “But they’re still really useful for grabbing stuff! And they can lift me up into the air, too - which is a great way to travel, let me tell you, especially after you twist your ankle…”

“You twisted your ankle?” Pauline asked. “Does it hurt? I can take a look, if you’d like.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “It wasn’t that serious an injury to begin with, and it’s been a few days besides.”

“If you’re sure…” Pauline murmured.

“And what’s this?” Professor Devulchas asked, striding into the room and heading straight for our desks - without even bothering to address the other students, I noticed. “You carved your first spell at last? And such a unique one, at that - tell me, how do tentacles relate to shadows?”

“You clearly don’t have any experience with eldritch horror,” I replied. Not that I had much experience with the subject either, really. But I’d picked up enough through osmosis to get the gist, and the idea of shadowy tentacles in particular was pretty much cemented in my brain. 

“Eldritch horror?” Pauline asked.

“It’s something from my place of origin,” I explained. “Some guy came up with it forever ago - it’s… kinda too involved to get into right now, but I’m pretty sure it - no, I mean, it definitely involved shadow tentacles, so… Yeah.”

“Right…” Pauline replied, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

“Yes, well, that aside,” the professor said, “why don’t you go ahead and show us what you’ve done to your core? Assuming you don’t mind miss Pauline seeing it.”

“I don’t,” I replied, reaching for the core projector that was stored in my desk. Much like the first time I tried it, pressing the button sent a charge of magic through my body, towards my core - and this time it was met with magic from my core, which surged back down my arm and into the box. 

For a moment nothing happened, and I wondered if I’d somehow managed to mess this up again - but then it appeared. A sphere, floating in front of me.

“You’ll need to state your intention to let me and Pauline see,” Devulchas said - or at least it was her voice. Instead of coming from her mouth, though, it seemingly emanated out of a small figure made of stone.

“Ah - right… um… Let Professor Devulchas and Pauline see?”

There was a fluctuation at the peripherals of my vision - and then suddenly I could see Pauline and the professor again. Not that I’d even noticed them disappearing from my vision to begin with, what with me being so focused on my core.

“Intriguing,” the professor murmured, her own attention now on my carving. “So that image represents these tentacles for you?”

I nodded, glancing at the image. It was a fairly simple interpretation - just curvy lines spiraling out from the center - but to me, it stood for tentacles emerging from the abyss.

“And I can see you successfully reserved space for the subspells… Not a lot of room - you devoted a bit more of it to the main spell than was strictly necessary, I think - but enough that we should be able to fit a few subspells into each pocket, if we’re careful.”

“Y-yeah,” I murmured, frowning. “I mean… I think so?” Except something about it didn’t feel right…

“What do you mean you think so?” the professor asked, narrowing her eyes. “Come to think of it, you never told me exactly what this pattern means to you…”

“Four books,” I told her, thinking back to what I’d said the night I made the design. Four parts of a series. The main spells are the central themes, and the subspells represent… acts…” My face paled.

“What’s wrong?” Pauline asked, concern etched in her voice.

“Four acts,” I replied, speaking slowly. “Four. I’m… I’m pretty sure I might have… sort of… accidentally limited myself to four subspells each?”

There was silence, for a moment, as Pauline and the professor processed my words.

“Well then,” Professor Devulchas said, after far too long a moment. “I suppose you’ll need to pick them carefully, won’t you?”

~~~

Author's Notes

We wanted to write a chapter of Naughty Magic, but depression spat in my face and said no - which was (funnily enough) the case when I wrote chapter 19 and 24 alike.

Fun fact, btw - I did not initially plan to limit Amy to four subspells. No, this idiot did that to herself. I didn't even catch it until I did a reread and realized her mental image had bit her in the ass again. Really gotta be careful with that stuff.

If you're wondering what she'll pick, do feel free to head over to Patreon where you can read five chapters ahead for as little as $1~! (Though as to how many of those subspells she will or won't have filled in the course of those five chapters... Well, telling you that would be spoilers!) Still, if five chapters of MOV aren't enough to sway you, there's also two advance chapters of Naughty Magic and Hatching a Heroine waiting! Also Double Trouble, if you're one of its relatively few fans... Also also - to save the best for last - free and paid members get access to my discord, where I regularly post pictures of my pet bearded dragon, Autumn!

I'm hoping to finish the NM chapter I started on Sunday, btw, but we'll see how that goes... Friday's for editing, meanwhile, and Saturday is of course a day off, so... Hope to see you then!

New MOV chapter will probably be here Monday at the latest, btw. Maybe sooner. Possibly later (though I doubt it.) We'll see.

“Actually… I’ve been thinking about subspells for a while, and I think I’ve got… Well, five ideas, actually, but only three I’m ready to go with.”

“Already?” Professor Devulchas asked, arching an eyebrow. “I would have thought it would take you longer to commit - especially knowing you’re so limited.”

“I mean, yeah, there’s something to be said for taking my time,” I admitted, “but I think if I do that I’ll just get lost in my own head again and struggle to make any decisions. Heck, I’m pretty sure that’s still going to happen with the fourth slot, but at least I can get the first three done while I’m still feeling certain about it.”

“Very well,” the professor replied. “Then show us what you’ve got - preferably on your core projection, rather than your actual core, this time.”

“Right…” I took a deep breath, steadying myself before studying the core projection. “First off, I need a way to… wait a second. Uh. How do I carve on this thing again?”

The professor rolled her eyes, clearly ready to lambaste me, but Pauline spoke up before she could.

“You just need to draw magic into your fingertip - then just sort of trace what you want onto the model.”

“Right,” I murmured, reaching for the magic that now dwelled inside me - not the stuff in my core, but rather the loose magic that had begun to accumulate within the rest of my body. Drawing a bit of it towards my fingertip, I pressed my finger against the core - and instantly made a mistake, drawing way too big a line. “Shit…”

“It’s alright,” Pauline said. “It can take a while to get used to it.”

“It was a lot easier when I was just drawing in my own mind,” I muttered. Fine motor control had never been my specialty - one of the reasons I’d never gotten into drawing. My handwriting had always been a mess back home, too, resulting in me usually preferring to work with computers over actual pen and paper - though I’d noticed that I had no trouble imitating Amelia’s fancy handwriting, in this body. Apparently the muscle memory didn’t transfer over to core carving, though.

“Wait… Maybe…” I frowned, a moment, before reaching for my magic again - this time, though, I went for the magic in my core, drawing it out through the tentacle glyph I’d created and forming a singular shadowy tentacle, the very tip of which I pressed against the core, drawing with it a new line - a much smaller, smoother one. “There we go…”

“How can that possibly be better?” the professor demanded. “You can’t have had those limbs for more than a day or two, unless I miss my guess!”

I shrugged. “It just is? They’re like… an extension of my mind, almost…” 

“As long as it works, right?” Pauline said, even as Professor Devulchas eyed me critically. After a moment, though, the professor shrugged, and gestured for me to get on with it. 

“Alright,” I murmured, going to work with my tentacle. “The first subspell I want to do is a sponge - it’ll let my tentacles absorb mana from the atmosphere, which should make it easier to keep up. Plus, if I pour extra mana into them, my tentacles will swell up and get all squishy like a sponge!”

“I suppose that would make it a feasible defense option,” Professor Devulchas remarked, eyeing the slightly squiggly rectangle I’d drawn. “Though that’s a rather odd shape for a sponge, isn’t it?”

“I mean… wait. You guys have sponges?”

“Of course,” Professor Devulchas replied, eyeing me like I was an imbecil. “They’re a bit hard to get your hands on, this far from port, but one does what they must for hygienes sake.”

“Right… sea sponges,” I muttered. “Well, uh… this is kind of a synthetic one? Something from where I come from.”

“You seem to come from a rather strange place,” Professor Devulchas remarked, eyeing me. “Exactly what country was it again?”

“America,” I replied, rubbing the back of my head. “I uh… doubt you’ve heard of it. But anyway, it should work, right?”

“I imagine so,” the professor agreed, frowning. She didn’t press on the question, though, which was good enough for me.

“Great! Then the next thing I need is to give my tentacles a bit more substance. The sponginess will let them take a hit, but it’s not great for fighting back… For that, I need something with weight - something heavy, and strong, but still flexible. I was thinking about some sort of plastic, at first, but I wasn’t sure how to represent that… until it hit me, all of a sudden - lead!”

“Lead?” Pauline asked, tilting her head. “I guess it is pretty easy to mold…”

“Yup! Perfect for something flexible like my tentacles,” I declared, puffing up my chest with pride. “Though… uh… more specifically I’m thinking a lead core. Wouldn’t want any of it leaking out and poisoning people, or whatever…”

“Poisoning people?” Pauline asked, her face paling.

“Yeah, lead’s like… really poisonous. Probably won’t affect me, since it’s like shadow tentacles and not actual flesh I’m sticking it in, but better to keep it sealed within the sponge, you know?” To that end, I first wrote ‘Pb,’ before surrounding it with a box, which in turn had tentacles branching off of it. “Lead core… except I remembered something about lead having a low melting point? Which is why I had another idea, to combat fire magic - liquid nitrogen!”

“Liquid… nitrogen?” Pauline asked, clearly confused.

I nodded. “I thought of ice, first, but that’s kinda brittle? Or maybe a thermometer, so I could go with heat and cold, but… I don’t know, it just didn’t feel right? Tentacles of shadow shouldn’t be getting hot in the first place… So, then I started thinking about stuff that’s cold but not solid!”

“Which is how you arrived at this ‘liquid nitrogen’ of yours?” Professor Devulchas asked.

I nodded, already hard at work drawing my next symbol - this time just an ‘N’ in a box, with wavy lines to represent the fact that it wasn’t a solid. “Thankfully I still remember most of the periodic table - they made us learn it in school. There was a whole song - with a video. Honestly, I remember just being glad they didn’t include a dance, because I’m pretty sure I would have screamed if they made me do that.”

“Right…” Professor Devulchas said. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with your ideas, as far as I can tell. Usually I’d suggest trying to trim them down to basic concepts, removing any lines you can in order to save space… but since you’re apparently limited to four subspells per spell regardless of size, I don’t think there’s much harm in going for it. Still, try to keep your marks as small as you can, hmm? Smaller cracks leads to less of a leak and higher pressure when the spells come out.”

“Right!” I confirmed, closing my eyes, and beginning to focus.

“Just don’t mess up again.”

I did not mess up in the end - something that had me wanting to stick my tongue out at the professor, to be honest, as immature as the idea might have been… alas, she had moved on already by the time I had finished, apparently more interested in helping Pauline plan out her core. Not something I intended to interrupt, so I instead focused on experimenting with my subspells as best I could during the remaining class time.

The sponge was easy to figure out - it was meant to be a passive, more or less, and I could tell immediately that it was helping to sustain my tentacles. No longer did they drain me merely by existing - I was pretty sure I could keep them out indefinitely, now.

Though that was only in their default state I soon realized. Pumping mana into the tentacles resulted in them swelling slightly, and turning spongy to the touch, but the effect ran out quickly once I stopped supplying mana and there was no way I could keep it up for long periods without completely running out.

Similarly, focusing on the lead subspell added significant weight to the tentacles in return for a heightened mana cost - more than they could passively absorb through my sponge spell. Cold was more or less the same, the tips of my tentacles turning so chilly that I could even see faint traces of mist around them, in return for a rather rapid drain on my mana. I wondered if it would be possible to reduce the level of cold for a lower cost, but… my mental image of liquid nitrogen didn’t really allow that, did it?

Ah well. At least they worked… though, in truth, I knew that the minor amount of testing I’d done wasn’t enough to prove anything. I needed to actually see what my tentacles could do in battle - preferably against a nonliving target.

To that end, I had plans. Plans that had me itching to leave my seat and rush out of the room. Especially since the professor had seemingly lost interest in me for the moment… Still, I tried to keep myself entertained. Mostly by watching Pauline work - the way she stuck her tongue out and pinched it between her teeth as she adjusted minute lines on her core was rather adorable, really…

…Though… come to think of… “You’re letting me see your core?”

Pauline blinked, looking up at me. As did Professor Devulchas, though her reaction to the interruption was a much harsher look. “I mean… you showed me yours, right? Isn’t it only fair I do the same?”

“Perhaps,” I conceded, “but… I mean… aren’t you afraid I’ll use it against you in some way?”

“Would you?” Pauline asked. “Because honestly, I can’t really see it.”

“Well… No. I wouldn’t. But how do you know that? Aren’t you still concerned I might be Amelia?”

“Not really,” Pauline told me, shaking her head. “I mean, I kinda doubted it from the first time we met… but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the less likely it’s felt… and you wouldn’t be here if the king hadn’t confirmed your identity, right?”

“Well… yes, that’s true,” I admitted, “but… are you really willing to just trust me like that? Even if I’m not the real Amelia, you still don’t know me all that well…”

“Maybe not,” she admitted, “but I think I’d like to? And again, you showed me, so… I guess returning the trust is me making my first step towards that?”

“You… you actually want to get to know me?” I asked, flabbergasted. “You… do realize that’s likely to cause problems between you and Prince Jethroo, don’t you? I don’t think he’ll ever believe I’m not the real Amelia in disguise, at this rate…”

“Maybe,” Pauline replied, sighing. “It’s… he’s pretty traumatized when it comes to her, I think… but Prince Jethroo doesn’t get to decide who I make friends with. And if he doesn’t like it, he can stop being friends with me at any time…”

“You almost make it sound like you’d rather be rid of him,” I said, chuckling faintly.

Pauline didn’t reply.

“You… can’t actually want to be rid of him, can you?”

“I mean… he’s nice to me?” Pauline said. “And he obviously cares a lot… He seems like he has a good heart under it all, too, maybe? Or at least I’d like to think so… but honestly, sometimes I think school would be easier for me without his royal backing… even if it does keep most of the bullies off my back.”

“Except for Amelia, you mean?” I asked, only to immediately regret it as Pauline’s face darkened. “Sorry… didn’t mean to bring up bad memories…”

“No, it’s fine,” Pauline said, giving me what looked to be a slightly strained smile. “It’s just… I sometimes wonder if Amelia would have even bothered with me if it wasn’t for Jethroo…”

“Well… I’m not so sure about that,” I admitted, not quite able to meet her eyes. “I think she had her own reasons for going after you…” Like visions of Pauline bringing about her doom.

“Really?” Pauline asked. “…Is this something from that story you wrote?”

“More or less,” I confirmed. “Which means it might not be that accurate…”

“I’ll say,” Pauline agreed. “I mean, you said it was about romance right? Between me and Prince Jethroo? But-”

It was at that moment that the bell rang, and I all but leapt out of my chair. “Well, great to see you Pauline, but we’ll have to continue this conversation tomorrow!”

“Huh? But I was about to tell you - about me and Prince Jethroo-”

“You can tell me tomorrow!” I said, perhaps a little too hurried. In truth, I didn’t really want to hear about her love life with someone who hated my guts. Besides, the less involved I was in their romance, the less likely I was to be pulled into the mess Amelia had left behind… “Right now, I’m off to The Guild!”

~~~

Author's Notes

I wonder what Pauline wanted to say...? Oh well, I'm sure it'll be revealed eventually! (Seriously, though - those who have been following me for a while know I don't like to do big arcs based on miscommunications. It's just not quite the right time yet.)

I'm going through a Depression Period right now - possibly related to me not being able to take my thyroid meds in a couple days. (I'll be on it tomorrow.) ...Could also legitimately just be unrelated depression, though, I do go through that a lot.

Either way, I'd expect more MOV sooner than later - especially since I'm really eager to release chapter 22 - but I'm also gonna try and aim for some Double Trouble as the next not-MOV thing for anyone keeping track of that.

If you're eager for either, do know that you can join my Patreon and read five chapters ahead on MOV (and two on DT) for as little as $1~!)

“Bridgette!” I called out, waving my hand even as I rushed out the door. Not that I could actually see her, yet, but knowing her she’d show up soon enough - and there she was! Shaking her head in exasperation, before tilting her head up to the sky as if to ask why she’d been burdened with someone like me.

“Yes, Amy, hello. I’m here.”

“To take me to the guild, right?” I asked, grinning. “We’ll need to take the carriage, again, in order to reach the closest town I suppose? But then we’ll be able to go to the guild! And I can get lessons, and maybe experiment on some training dummies or the like?”

“I’m pretty sure that would work,” Bridgette confirmed. “First steps first, though - we have got to get you out of those clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I asked, peering down at myself. I’d chosen a dark red dress today, with a slit down the sides to make for easier movements. It perhaps wasn’t the best for trekking through the wilds and fighting monsters, but it was surely good enough for a trip to the guild?

“Nothing,” Bridgette said, perhaps a touch too quickly. “It’s just that they basically scream that you’re a noble.”

“I’m not a noble,” I reminded her, frowning.

“Yeah, but everything about you still screams at the world like you are. You’re too pale to have spent any real time in the sun, you have practically no calluses, and you’re wearing a dress worth more than some commoners will earn in a year. Plus, there’s the way you talk, the way you walk, and just… everything about you, really.”

“Then why even bother with changing my outfit?” I demanded. “If literally everything about me screams noble, anyway?”

“Because the attempt at disguising it matters!” Bridgette explained. “Most commoners can recognize a noble pretending to be one of them - but they also know to more or less stay out of that noble’s way and pretend like everything’s normal for their own sakes. Just like most of the nobles who try slumming it like that know not to kick up a big fuss about every tiny thing, when they’re pretending to be commoners. It’s like… a social contract, I guess? But if you go in there wearing a freaking noble dress, you’re basically shouting to the world that you’re there as a noble, rather than having the decency to at least try to blend in.”

“I guess that makes sense…? But what do I do? It’s not like I have any commoner’s clothes hanging around…”

“Well, I’d offer to let you have some of mine, but I don’t think we’re quite the same size,” she said, staring at my chest for some reason. “But don’t worry! The king gave me a stipend to take care of you with - not much, but we should be able to get some second hand clothes that more or less fit you.”

“Second hand?” I asked. “Can we not even afford new clothes, then?”

“Well, we could, but it would take time to get something made fresh and tailored to you, and I thought you wanted to visit The Guild today?”

“I do! I just… I don’t know… second hand commoner clothes? You’ll have to forgive me, but I can’t imagine they’ll be that comfortable to wear, compared to what I’m used to.”

“They might not be the cleanest, either,” Bridgette remarked. “But hey, if you really wanna delay going to The Guild, then-”

“No, no!” I interrupted, shaking my head rapidly. “Second hand commoner clothes it is! I’ll make do… but ah… do you think we could put in an order for something specially tailored to me, while we’re at it?”

“I think we can come up with something,” Bridgette said, before taking my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you to the carriage.”

“R-right,” I murmured, glancing down at Bridgette’s hand, with a faint blush on my cheeks. Maybe it was just my inexperience with the fairer sex - though I’d been getting quite a lot of that since joining them, come to think of it - but the idea of holding hands with a cute girl…

Well, it made me just a little bit nervous… but it was probably fine, wasn’t it? I mean, Bridgette certainly didn’t seem to mind… and she was wearing gauntlets, anyway.

The carriage ride really was annoyingly bumpy - especially for someone who wasn’t used to riding in them. I mean, usually I’d just sorta run to the nearest town and back, but the trip could be sorta long and boring by myself, and now that Amelia had her own magic I probably wouldn’t be able to take her into the slowed down world I liked to zoom through. Plus, I didn’t really feel like carrying someone in my arms the entire way, either. Though I’d do it in an emergency! I’d done it once, already, when I had to carry Amy back with me…

An image flashed through my mind - Amy, bleeding out of her neck, her body limp and cold and so much blood. She should have been dead - would have been dead, if not for that weird potion the demon had given her. At the time, it hadn’t bothered me too much. A little, yeah, especially with me being so unsure what was going on with her, but she’d basically been a stranger to me, at the time. Just someone I was honor bound to try and save.

Now? Well, I guess she was still sort of a stranger, by some metrics… I mean, we’d barely known each other for two weeks, at this point, and we’d spent most of it getting on each other’s nerves

So why did imagining her bleeding out feel so much worse than it did before? Did it have something to do with that warm feeling I got when I’d grabbed her hand? Or the way I’d instantly run over to her class the moment mine was over, without even taking the time to say goodbye to my teachers?

It… probably did, honestly. In fact, I was pretty sure I knew what it meant, too - I wasn’t a total idiot. Unlike a certain someone who was sitting across from me, absurdly oblivious to my inner turmoil as she hummed a happy tune she’d picked up from who the hell knew where. Her old world, maybe?

Whatever. I wasn’t going to put my feelings into words, in any case - not yet, at least. I mean I barely knew her, in the end, and she really was annoying… Always so quick to get lost in her own head, missing obvious things at every opportunity, refusing to take things seriously - she was going to get in major trouble, one of these days, I just knew it. She’d probably get pulled into some scheme or another without even realizing it!

Which is why she needed me. To protect her. From the physical stuff, at least - Clara was probably more of a help with the politics and scheming, as much as I hated to admit it. Maybe Firanna could help, too, though? Assuming she could ever bring herself to accept that Amy wasn’t Amelia… Which it seemed like she was at least starting to, judging by how she’d apparently agreed to getting engaged?

Which was another reason for me not to try and put my feelings into words. Amy was engaged. Which… okay, maybe that didn’t mean much so far as the average noble was concerned, but Amy wasn’t a noble. She didn’t have a scheming bone in her body! She’d probably take any oaths of marriage seriously - and I wouldn’t wanna trample over that with some stupid half-formed feelings that were just starting to stir in my gut.

Way better to just ignore that. Hopefully Firanna and her would be happy together, that way, and I’d… I don’t know… find someone else? I mean, I was probably only even attracted to her because she let me live out my fantasy of protecting an innocent maiden as her knight, to begin with…

I sighed, shaking my head, only to be startled out of my thoughts a second later by a hand gently pushing against my shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Amy asked. “You seem troubled.”

“I’m fine,” I said, only to regret it an instant later when I saw Amy’s eyes widen. Right. Lie detector. “Okay, I’m not fine, but I’ll be fine, and I’d rather not talk about it, so can we please just go shopping already?”

“Alright,” Amy said, heading towards the carriage door. She opened it and stepped out without even waiting for the coachman to do so - something the real Amelia would never have even thought about doing - and then turned around to offer her hand to me.

“You know, I’m pretty sure the knight is the one who’s supposed to do that sorta thing for her Lady, not the other way around,” I grumbled. Not that it stopped me from taking her hand, though.

I wondered how warm her hand would feel, if I wasn’t wearing metal gloves? I was honestly kinda tempted to take it off and find out - but also that definitely wasn’t the sort of thing I should have been thinking about, especially when I was supposed to be acting like her guardian knight.

“Come on,” I said, pushing the thought away. “This way. I know just the place to take you.”

“Do you, now?” Amy asked, chuckling faintly. “I’m starting to think you must have had this little outing planned from the start…”

“Not really,” I admitted, shaking my head. “It honestly sort of slipped my mind until I saw you at class…” Looking unfairly pretty in that dress… wait… was that the real reason I didn’t want her going out like this? Because of how The Guild’s members would look at her? I didn’t think so - I wasn’t really the jealous type… usually.. probably?

I… hadn’t actually ever had anyone to test that on, come to think of it… I’d always been too busy focusing on my training to really think about love, or… well, anything, really… Maybe I just preferred not thinking in general, since it meant I didn’t have to think about things like this.

“So you just happen to know the perfect place to take me for second hand clothes?” Amy asked, completely unaware of my inner turmoil. Which was maybe for the best? But also just like her. “You’ll have to forgive me for struggling to believe you.”

“I mean, considering you’re a truthteller, I’d think it would be pretty obvious that I’m not lying,” I pointed out.

“I guess… but the ability honestly feels pretty unreliable, sometimes…”

“Then don’t rely on it,” I replied. “Just trust me when I say that this is a complete coincidence! Though I think you’ll probably like it.”

“What are you talking about?” Amy asked me, furrowing her brow. “And… where are we going? Because… I mean, no offense to those who live around here, but the buildings seem to be getting… ah… a bit dingier as we go?”

“Okay, so it’s not the best place,” Bridgette admitted. “Though I do wanna point out that it’s not as seedy as it could be - I mean, I would have gotten her a ritzier job if I could have, but I don’t exactly have a ton of high class contacts, and the woman who owns this store seemed to think she owed me a favor ever since I outed a few rough types from her store a year or so back…”

“What are you even talking about?” Amy asked, now completely confused. She looked so cute when confused, too… though you’d think I’d be used to seeing it by now. “Who is this her you’re referring to?”

“You’ll see in a second,” I said, gesturing to a store not too far from us. “Come on, right through here.”

“Alright,” Amy said, shaking her head even as I led her there. “But I don’t get the secrecy… Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were leading me into a trap.”

“Not a trap,” I promised her. “More like a reunion?”

“A reunion?” she parroted back, even as she opened the door. “What sort of person could I possibly know he-”

“Lady Amelia!” a voice called, and for a moment I saw a look of pure panic on Amy’s face. Which was actually pretty guilty making - she must have been wondering just what I brought her here for… but it turned into confusion when a tiny figure rocketed across the shop and threw herself in Amy’s arms. 

“I… wha… Bean?”

~~~

Author's Notes

This was the fourth of four chapters I wrote in twelve hours, running off a single hour of sleep - I edited it after, trying to make Bridgette's voice more distinct from Amelia's, but it might be a bit rough still as a result of all that.

That said... Bean! (The child from chapter 3, for those who've forgotten.) Next up is a chapter I'm very much looking forward to. It's titled "Beastkin" and I'll say no more about it (other that that I'm considering renaming it The Beast Within. I took off an "A" for this chapter title, too, for that matter.)

It'll probably end up released on Friday, but if you find yourself impatient for it do feel free to check out my Patreon, where you can read 6* chapters ahead for as little as $1~! (Also two chapters ahead on the majority of my other series! And all members - even free ones - get access to my discord, where you can peruse pictures of my lizard. Or, y'know, chat me up I guess? If you're into that sort of thing.)

*It's usually 5 chapters, and may go down to that, but I writing it so fast there's currently a surplus.... We'll see if that goes up or down...

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Bean cried, squeezing as tight as she could - not that the strength of a little girl amounted to much, really. “Bridge said you were, but she also said we couldn’t visit or nothing.”

“Bridge?” I asked, glancing over to Bridgette. “It sounds like the two of you are close.”

“Naw,” Bean denied, immediately. “I mean, she’s alright, I guess, seeing as how she helped my sis and all, but she isn’t… I mean, she didn’t…” she trailed off, toeing at the ground with a little blush on her cheeks.

“What’s that?” I asked, curious.

“Nothing!” Bean replied, far too quickly. “I mean… it’s just… she’s not a hero like you.”

“Not a hero?” Bridgette asked, looking a little offended. “You do know I’m the one who actually got your sister and all the others freed, right?”

“Only ‘cause I made you!” Bean replied, sticking her tongue out at the other girl. “If you didn’t want info on Lady Amelia, I bet you’d never have even given us or our problems a second glance.”

“Of course I would have!” Bridgette protested, looking legitimately hurt by the accusation. “I just… didn’t know you were in need…”

“Uh-huh,” Bean replied, rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out at Bridgette before burrowing her head against me. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Lady Amelia…”

“It’s… Um… Amy, now,” I told her, trying not to laugh at the way Bridgette was puffing up her cheeks in displeasure. “Just Amy.”

“No way I could call you just Amy!” Bean protested. “Not after everything you did for us…”

“I don’t see why she gets the hero treatment,” Bridgette protested, with what almost looked to be a pout upon her lips. “From what you told me, all she really did was fall for your tricks.”

“And she still helped me!” Bean said. “Like… like a saintess! Unlike you, who only did it ‘cause you wanted info to hurt her. I heard all about how Lady Amelia was arrested, and gonna be executed, and stuff! Even though she’s so nice…”

“Yes, well, the execution’s off, at least,” I said, a little surprised that Bean knew about it. Was Amelia’s fall from grace truly such common knowledge?

“Bet Bridge didn’t help with that, though,” Bean muttered, looking discontent.

“Bean,” a voice called from within. “What have I told you about being rude to Dame Bridgette?”

Bean stiffened, straightening up at the spine and turning around with a guilty look on her face. “N-not to?”

“That’s right,” came the tired reply, as the voice’s owner came out of the shop. A brunette woman, with bright green eyes - and vertical pupils, I couldn’t help but notice. Atop her head was a pair of cat ears, and behind her was a tail that flicked back and forth behind her.

“A beastkin?” I asked, unable to help myself. I’d written about them existing in the books, but hadn’t really given them much focus. 

“That’s my big sis!” Bean informed me, smiling brightly. “You saved her!”

“Your… big sis?” I asked, glancing between her and Bean. There was a resemblance there, now that she mentioned it, but at the same time there was also a glaring difference - Bean had no animalistic features.

“Are you unfamiliar with how beastkin work my Lady?” Bean’s sister asked, no doubt noticing my confusion. 

“We ah… didn’t have any back where I’m from,” I replied, a little embarrassed.

“No?” the girl asked, before shaking her head. “I suppose I’m not surprised… there are few enough people who choose this life amongst commoners, let alone the nobility…”

“Choose this life?” I asked, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“She means that this is something she did to herself,” Bridgette replied, her tone carrying an edge of disapproval to it that I wasn’t used to hearing.

“Just so,” the brunette replied, nodding her head. “I beastialized myself - and I don’t regret it.”

“Huh?” I asked, glancing between her and the clearly disapproving Bridgette. “I feel like I’m missing something…”

“Do you know what happens when one forgoes the use of spells, Lady Amelia?” the catgirl asked me.

“No?”

“It’s the same thing that happens to animals when they turn into monsters,” Bridgette supplied, her voice tight. “Your core bursts, and all the latent magic surges through you, transforming you. You gain great physical strength, alongside animalistic features, but you lose the ability to cast spells outside your body.”

“Just so,” the girl confirmed, nodding her head. “The only magic I can manage these days is self-enhancement…”

“It’s a shortcut to power,” Bridgette continued, “but a short sighted one. Beastkin can’t handle any sort of specialized jobs, because they can’t compete with people who’ve developed specialized spells to do their work. The only thing they’re good for is pure brute strength - and their looks, I guess, if you’re into that sort of thing. I’ve never understood why someone would do that to themselves.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t understand, no,” the brunette said, smiling gently even as her tail lashed behind her. “Still, I thank you for your help Dame Bridgette. While I might not have hated my previous position, I did quite miss the freedom to come and go as I pleased - freedom you restored to me.”

“And hopefully to the others, soon, as well,” Bridgette said. “I informed the guards as to what was going on in that place - forcing people, even debt slaves, into brothel work is supposed to be illegal.”

“As you say,” the catgirl replied, bowing her head. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure that the guards will do much. I’m sure you know that us beastkin are considered to be in something of a legal gray area - there are many who debate whether we truly count as human anymore, and whether the law’s protection should extend to us.”

“That still doesn’t excuse forcing you to work in a brothel,” Bridgette said, clearly outraged. “Nobody should have to work like that! Human or not.”

“As you say,” the girl again replied, bowing her head.

“Hold up a sec,” I protested, deciding it was time to interject. “Why would they be less human? Just because they transformed themselves?”

“Like monsters do,” Bridgette said, frowning. “It’s unnatural. The ability to cast magic properly is what’s meant to separate us from the beasts, to begin with, and they just… throw it away for the sake of power.”

“She doesn’t look all that powerful to me,” I pointed out, looking the girl up and down. She wasn’t as bone-thin as her little sister - in fact, she had quite a bit of padding, especially around her chest and rear - but her thin limbs didn’t exactly scream of strength.

“Looks can be deceiving, Lady Amy,” the catgirl replied. “I’m stronger than I look… though, I must confess, it wasn’t a desire for strength that led me down this path…”

“Then what?” Bridgette demanded. “Looks? I’ve heard beastkin tend to be attractive - especially the ones who stay mostly human - and I get why the… exotic look might have been an advantage for you, in your prior line of work, but throwing away your humanity just for-”

“I was born a boy, Dame Bridgette,” the catgirl interjected, her voice containing a trace of ire for the first time. “I gave up my humanity, as you put it, because I decided it was better to live as a monster woman than a human man.”

“…What?” Bridgette asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But… that’s… In school, they always said-”

“That beastkin are nothing but power hungry, and vain, shortsighted fools?” the catgirl asked, her tail now lashing back and forth at high speed. “Yes, they said the same at my school… but it’s funny. Every beastkin I’ve met, since changing, has had a story similar to my own. None of them expressed any desire for power, or a will to throw away their morality… They just wanted bodies that suited them. Even if it meant giving up their right to be treated like a human being.”

Bridgette didn’t say anything to that. She just stared at the catgirl, her mouth agape.

“Big siiiiiiiis,” Bean complained, breaking the tense standoff. “You’re making Lady Amelia uncomfy! I can feel her tensing up!”

“…My apologies, Bean,” the catgirl said. “I’ll be heading back inside to work on some sewing - can I trust you to look after our guests, and show them around?”

“Of course!” Bean said, puffing out her chest.

“Wait!” I called out, as the brunette turned to go. “I um… I never got your name.”

The catgirl hesitated a moment, looking me up and down. Then she greeted me with a small smile and replied, “Lilith,” before heading back inside.

“I… I think I need to go have a word with the guards,” Bridgette said. “Wanna make sure they’re following up on that brothel problem I told them about. Will you be okay here for a bit?”

“Of course,” I lied, repressing the tingle of fear that went through me at the thought of being left alone, in this place. So close to where I’d been stabbed… but I wasn’t going to force Bridgette to babysit me, just because I was a little anxious. Not when she clearly had more important matters to attend to.

Bridgette took a deep breath, before letting it out in a sigh. “I’ll be back,” she said, and just like that she was gone.

Leaving me standing in front of a shop, with a sign depicting a patch-work shirt. 

“Come on!” Bean said, detaching from my middle so that she could snatch up one of my hands and tug me towards the store. “You’re here for clothing, aren’t ya? I bet we can find something that’ll look real pretty on you!”

“I’d love to, but… Bridgette took the funds with her, I’m afraid,” I confessed.

“Really?” Bean frowned. “Knew I shoulda stolen her purse when I had the chance…”

“Bean!” I all but shouted, narrowing my eyes at the little girl. “I hope you aren’t stealing things? You’ll only make trouble for you and your sister if you are.”

“Not if I don’t get caught!” Bean pointed out, puffing out her chest again - only to deflate when I glared at her. “Big sis said the same thing… Even though she’s the one who taught me all the tricks of the trade to begin with…”

“Yes, well, now she seems rather invested in forming a proper, stable life with you. Something you should do your best to support her in.”

“Yeah, alright…” Bean replied, kicking at the ground. “But I still wanna find some clothes for you! We can just make Bridge pay for them when she gets back, right?”

“I… suppose that would work,” I confirmed, glancing nervously at the interior of the shop. I felt some trepidation at the idea of going inside, in all honesty. The idea of shopping for clothes - it was silly, really, but… so far I’d only worn clothes that Amelia already owned. I didn’t even pick the clothes, as a rule, simply wearing whatever Clara told me to.

Now? Now I was being asked to pick clothes for myself. To purchase things that would remain in my closet for who knew how long. It was silly - it was only clothes, really - but… it felt, in a way, like I was taking my first real step towards claiming this body - this life - as my own.

I wasn’t just some schmuck in Amelia’s body - I was Amy, a girl(?) with a life of her own to live. A girl’s life. One I had never expected to have… and which I could apparently give up, I suddenly realized, if I truly wanted to.

All it would take was giving up my rights as a human being, and taking on some animal features, in return for a male body that I… was starting to realize that I didn’t miss. At least enough to throw away the promise of magic and status for.

Was that weird? Was it strange that I didn’t miss being a man? Or was it just because I was in the body of a cis woman that I didn’t particularly care for my missing masculinity?

I didn’t know. I didn’t know if it even mattered, really… but I was starting to realize just how lucky I was to actually feel content with the body I was in.

 

 

~~~
Author's Notes

 

If any of you have wondered why I've been babbling about how "All Catgirls are Trans" of late... WELL NOW YOU KNOW.

The idea for this chapter honestly hit me like a bolt from the blue - I was minding my own business, making myself some dinner (warm anchovies on a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese) when it just hit me straight in the face. Before then, I'd intended to have "beastkin" - or The Kin, if you prefer - be... similar in nature to this, but more something just done by certain People's? But then this idea hit me like a mouthful of warm anchovies (before I even had a chance to take a bite, mind you) and I just had to run with it...

Been waiting to see the public's reaction ever since, and now I finally can! (Ah... not that that's why you're getting a double release or anything... No. It's to celebrate hitting trending on Scribble Hub. Obviously.)

Also because I've currently written up to chapter 28 on Patreon, and am likely to write more before Friday besides... If you're eager to see more, please do consider supporting me! You can read all the advanced chapter for as little as a dollar~! Excluding the NSFW quasi-canon 23.5, which is currently restricted to the $5+ tier, that is.)

I allowed Bean to drag me into the shop, which was full of various clothes held up on racks, or else piled up in folded stacks against the wall.

“I know where everything is,” Bean said, pridefully. “Boss Lady says it’s my best talent - after parting suckers from their coin, that is.”

“Do you always refer to your customers that way?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at Bean’s antics.

“Not in front of ‘em!” she swore, placing a hand on her heart. “I’m mostly just talking about the rich blood types, anyway - the sort who want to go slumming, without actually looking like they belong in the slum, y’know? They buy the fanciest outfits we have in stock, and don’t really care what we charge ‘em.”

“You do realize that’s what I’m here for, don’t you?” I asked, a little exasperated.

“…So it’s not just to see me?”

I flinched at that. To be honest, I’d all but forgotten about Bean, with everything that had happened… I’d done the bare minimum to make sure she would be alright, and then once satisfied I’d let her fall by the wayside.

“Just joking!” Bean said, with a smile I might have believed if I wasn’t a living lie detector. “Wouldn’t expect you to take time out of your busy schedule for someone like me, anyhow.”

“It’s not that,” I protested. “It’s just… Well, to be quite honest, up until a few hours ago, my own head was on the chopping block - literally.”

“It was?” Bean asked, perking up a little. “I mean, uh… is that why you didn’t come visit?”

“Part of it,” I replied, stifling the guilt I felt for that lie. “It was rather hard to think about anything but my own survival, to be truthful. And Bridgette did assure me that you and your sister had been saved.”

“Saved, huh?” Bean asked, with a far away look in her eyes. “I sleep on a mattress, now, y’know? Never did that before… and I fleece people from their coin the honest way, rather than just by stealing it from their pockets… and Big Sis is back, too! All thanks to you.”

“More thanks to Bridgette,” I informed her, shaking my head. “She’s the one who called upon her connections to get you situated here.”

“Would’ve been fine without that, so long as I had sis,” Bean muttered. “Didn’t need her interference.”

“Why do you dislike her so much?” I asked, deciding not to press her on just how ‘fine’ she would have been, living on the streets and stealing to survive.

“I don’t dislike her,” Bean said, nudging the ground with her foot. Another lie, obviously. “I just… She called you stupid, Lady Amelia… and she looks at Sis like there’s something wrong with her, just ‘cause she rearranged herself a little.”

“I think that was more born of ignorance than anything,” I remarked, thinking back to our recent conversation. “And I do expect it to change, after our recent conversation.”

“Maybe, but she’s still one of them richy noble types. She only even helped ‘cause you asked her to.”

“I’m one of those noble types,” I pointed out. “Or at least I used to be.” Or Amelia used to be. I didn’t really want to do a deep dive into my history at the moment, though.

“You almost died for me, though,” Bean said, her voice soft. “Nobody… nobody ever did that for me, before… Even though I betrayed you… Why’d you do that?”

“I’m not really sure,” I confessed, shaking my head. “I suppose I just wanted my death to amount to something…”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t die,” Bean murmured, kicking at the ground again. “Even if you are filthy rich.”

“Not so rich anymore,” I told her. “That thief friend of yours stole all my money - and seeing as how I’ve lost both my title, and my connection to the Duke, I don’t think I’ll be getting more any time soon.”

“Right… sorry about that,” Bean muttered, staring down at the floor.

“If you truly want to make it up to me, you can go fetch me some of those ‘fancy’ clothes, you mentioned - perhaps something a rich merchant’s daughter might wear?”

“You sure you don’t want something more plain?” Bean asked, eyeing me up and down. “If you look like you’ve got money on you, someone might stab you again.”

“I’m fairly sure I’ll stand out no matter what I wear,” I replied, shaking my head. “In which case I think it’s best to go for something made of comfortable fabric, at the very least.”

“Comfortable?” Bean asked, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t think most of those dresses look all that comfortable to me. Sure you don’t want, like, britches or something?”

“I… No. I think I’d rather keep to skirts, for the time being. My maid would likely get upset, otherwise.” Not to mention the fact that I’d need to figure out a new place from which to draw out my tentacles, if I went that route. “I don’t suppose you have anything that scream ‘adventurer’ do you?”

“You want a guild-type outfit… with a skirt?” Bean asked, staring at me blankly.

“I-if you don’t have it, we can just-”

“I do, actually,” Bean said. “Some snazzy looking gentleman came by to drop it off - ‘parently his daughter commissioned it, ‘cause she was on an adventurous streak… Or at least that’s how I heard it? Damn outfit’s been here longer than me. It’s too expensive for someone who just needs day to day wear, and we’re not exactly the usual shop for people who wanna buy gear. Not that I can imagine anyone but you having… uh… a brave enough fashion sense to wear it?”

“Brave enough, hmm?” I asked, grimacing. “Go on, then - let’s see this monstrosity of yours.”

“Well… if you insist.”

The outfit Bean proceeded to show me wasn’t actually too bad, in my opinion - though I could see right away why it might not fit the needs of their usual clientele. The top part could pass as traditional leather armor, at least from the front. The back was made of cloth, and the whole thing doubled as a corset, with stiff but somewhat flexible ribs on either side, and laces meant for tightening it about someone. The bottom, meanwhile, was a simple cloth dress, dyed brown. It went all the way down to the floor, too, making it rather impractical for the average adventurer - or guild member, as Bean had put it - but all the more perfect for me.

“I’ll take it,” I declared, eyeing it happily. “Assuming it fits at least.”

“We can resize it, if need be,” Bean told me, puffing up her chest. “Got spells for it - one for taking sizes, another for resizing outfits. Wanted to make one for sewing, too, but Sis said I shouldn’t make too many job-spells too quickly. Gotta leave room, in case things don’t work out, y’know?”

“Not particularly,” I admitted, shaking my head. “What do you mean by ‘job spells’?”

“Well… they’re spells you carve for the job, of course,” Bean replied, looking confused by my lack of knowledge. “Makes you more valuable as a worker! At least in theory… Sis says to be cautious, though, ‘cause if you fill up your whole core with them then you’ll only be good for the one job, for the rest of your life.”

“I… see…” There had been mention of specialized skills earlier, hadn’t there been? For jobs? “If there are job spells, does that mean you have personal spells, too?”

Bean hesitated at that. “Sis… Sis always said I shouldn’t,” she muttered, not quite meeting my eye. “Only rich people can afford to waste core space on stuff they want. Rest of us gotta do things that make life a bit easier.”

“But you made one, anyway, didn’t you?” I pressed, a small smile on my face. Seeing Bean like this, squirming under my attention, she looked like a normal child - rather than a starving street rat who’d do whatever it took to survive.

“Well… I mean, everyone’s gotta baby wish or two,” she hedged. “‘Cause you can’t be expected to control your power completely when you’re a baby, right? Like.. I can conjure water in my mouth, when I’m all thirsty and the like…”

“Is it just a baby spell, then?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “And here I thought perhaps you had something interesting to show me.”

“I do!” Bean replied, quickly. “Just… don’t tell Sis, okay?”

“Don’t tell me what?” a teasing voice asked, as Lilith stepped out fro behind a row of clothes.

“N-nothing!” Bean shouted out, before clasping a hand over her mouth.

“She was thinking of giving me a discount,” I replied, deciding to cover for the little one. “Said you might disapprove.”

“R-right! That!” Bean said. “T-though, uh, I wasn’t really gonna give that big a discount… It was just a sales tactic! Honest!”

“Uh-huh.” Lilith giggled, raising a hand to her mouth. “I see. Well, if that’s the outfit you intend to walk out with, I don’t see a reason not to give at least a tiny one - I was starting to think it would stay in the stacks until the end of time.”

“I suppose I can see why,” I confessed, giving it an eye. “Still, I’d like to try it.”

“This way, then,” Lilith told me, gesturing for me to follow her as she turned towards the back of the store. “There’s a small room in the back with a hand mirror. It’s not much, but you’ll be able to get at least some idea of how you look in it.”

I nodded, not saying anything for a moment as I followed Lilith to the back of the shop. When she gestured to the door, though, I hesitated a moment before reaching for the handle.

“About Bridgette… the things she said…”

“I won’t take them personally,” Lilith replied, a soft smile on her lips. “How can I, when we owe you two so much?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. It’s… I just… I think she was perhaps even more ignorant than me, on these matters, if that makes sense? She’s a good person, though, so… don’t be surprised if she acts differently when next you meet.”

“Is that so?” Lilith asked, eyeing me with a faint hint of amusement behind her eyes. “You certainly do have a positive impression of her, but in my experience, telling people they’re wrong about you rarely leads to anything but more pushback.”

“Yes, well… Bridgette’s different… or at least I hope she is…”

“As you say,” Lilith replied, gesturing for the door again.

I wanted to say more - to apologize on Bridgette’s behalf, to tell her that I didn’t judge her for her decision, that I respected it, even, but… was it really my place to say any of it? It wasn’t as if I could understand the struggle she’d been in - I hadn’t hated my old body, and I actively liked this one, so… in the end, I merely opened the door and stepped inside.

“How do I look?” I asked, coming out a few minutes later. The outfit had gone on without a struggle - though it was a bit tight about the waist and chest alike.

“Like you need a proper fitting,” Lilith replied, looking me over. “But other than that… I think it looks nice.”

“What are you planning to use it for?” Bean asked, holding a hand out towards me.

“Well, I’m planning to join the guild,” I confessed. “And Bridgette said that it would be best to come properly attired.”

“I don’t know if I’d count that as ‘proper,’ but I guess it’s ‘attire’ alright,” Bean said, furrowing her brow as a bubble popped into existence in her palm. She blew it towards me, and I watched with interest as it expanded in size, soon as large as me - and then larger, as its walls pushed past me with a soft ‘pop.’ 

“What’s this supposed to do?”

“Measurements!” Bean replied, as the bubble began to shrink down. This time, though, I didn’t pass through the wall - instead, the wall of the bubble contorted to fit my shape, shrinking further as it did so until there was a skintight sheen of water surrounding me. “Done!”

The bubble popped, and Bean grinned. “I bet we can get it done for you in half an hour, if you’re willing to wait for it!”

“And don’t worry about the price,” Lilith added. “I’m sure your friend and I can come up with something.”

~~~

Author's Notes

As mentioned previously, I've written a quasi-canon* NSFW one-shot for what happened in that changing room, if anyone's curious. It's limited to $5+ patrons for the moment, but it'll become available to $1 patrons at the start of August.

*Quasi-canon means that you can imagine as much or as little of it happened as you'd like, but it won't be referenced in the main storyline and certain non-sexy parts of it might repeat down the line.

Other than that, I've got currently got a 5 chapter buffer on Patreon, meaning you can read up to chapter 28 for as little as $1 if you're interested~!

PS: Planning to work on a chapter of My Oni Love next. That'll bring it back up to a 2 chapter buffer, so that I can start posting to the public again when its turn next comes around. Then prooooobably more MOV? So expect a chapter Sunday or Monday in all likelihood.

I came to a stop in front of the shop, a soft breeze the only sign of how fast I’d been traveling. Not that it felt particularly fast when I was running, or anything. Really, the only difference was whether people around me were moving or not.

Speaking of, the door was already in the middle of opening, the bell above it tinkling as a figure stepped out. A familiar figure, with soft brown hair and a small smile that looked real gentle, so long as you didn’t pay attention to the cat tail whipping back and forth behind her. I didn’t know a lot about beastkin - like, whether they even had a term they preferred to beastkin, for example - but if the body language was anything like an actual cat that probably meant she was a bit agitated at seeing me.

Not that I could blame her.

“Sorry,” I said, first thing - though maybe that was a bit too abrupt of me, because she just blinked at me. “For the things I said before, I mean. I… I tend to think I’m better than the average noble, when it comes to commoners - I mean, I still sorta think like I’m one of them - one of you - a lot of the time, but I guess I’m out of touch as any of them sometimes. Haven’t had to deal with having no meals, or… well, what you’ve been through… I’m uh. Not really sure I get it, still? I mean, I like being a girl, but I’m still not sure why someone would feel the need to go out of their way and chase it like that… but maybe if I wasn’t born a girl, I’d understand better? And… I do wanna understand. At least a little, so… I’m sorry. For what I said before.”

The woman blinked at me, again. Her smile never shifted, but her tail did start to slow. 

“I see…” she murmured. “Well, if you’re done apologizing, Dame Bridgette, I do believe Lady Amy is ready and waiting for your arrival.”

“Just ‘Miss’ is fine, honest,” I hurried to tell her, before she could reach the door. “And uh… if you could? I wanted to ask a favor of you before we go inside.”

Her hand paused on the door’s handle. She didn’t turn around, but didn’t open it either.

“If my friend - that is, Lady Amy - if she comes to you, to learn how to do what you did - but in reverse, I guess? To make herself a boy? Anyway, if she comes to you for that, could you… give her guidance, maybe? Tell her what you went through, and make sure she knows what she’s getting into, and make doubly sure she does it right? She has a bad tendency of rushing into things and messing them up bigtime, from what I can tell.”

“From what you can tell?” Lilith parroted back at me, still not turning around.

“It’s sorta complicated, but I’ve only really known her for a couple weeks… she’s messed up loads during that time, though, so I’m pretty sure I’m right about that much at least!”

“You might be,” Lilith replied - and I’m pretty darn sure I heard a touch of amusement in her voice as she did so - “but I don’t think you know her very well, if you’re worried about her doing what I did. She seems quite enamored with magic, from what I can tell - not to mention the feminine form itself. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she started off in a similar state as me.”

“You mean being born as a… that is, uh…” I turned away, even knowing the lady wasn’t looking my way, and coughed a few times. “Well, uh. Good to know, I guess! Though… I’m a little worried as to how you’re so sure of that fact so quickly after you met her! She didn’t do anything odd, did she?”

“Odd? You could say that,” Lilith replied, swinging the door fully open, so that I could see what awaited me on the other side.

Which is to say Amy - propped up high on two tentacles, her feet dangling out from beneath her dress, holding up little Bean with her tentacle and swinging her around and around.

“Bridgette!?” Amy cried out, catching sight of me and stopping midturn. Sadly, the tentacle keeping up Bean didn’t stop, and instead ended up wrapping itself around Amy’s body, with Bean slamming into at the end and both of them tumbling towards the ground.

I was planning on activating my ability to keep them from actually hitting, but in the end I didn’t need to as new tentacles burst out of Amy’s shadow to catch her before she could hit the ground. “Woopsies!”

“I thought you could only summon those from underneath your skirt,” I remarked, narrowing my eyes at her. “Something about how the shadows dwell deepest there?”

“Well, it’s not strictly a requirement,” Amy admitted, blushing a little. “Technically, I suppose it doesn’t even need to be my shadow at all - though it takes a lot more power when I try to conjure them from someone else’s shadow, and I have a lot less finesse with them besides.”

“Right…” I murmured, shaking my head. It probably had more to do with her mental image than any innate limitations of the spell, but stuff like that was notoriously hard to work around. We could deal with it later in any case. “Looks like you found an outfit, at least!”

“Isn’t it perfect?” she asked, dismissing her tentacles so that she could stand up and spin about. The skirt she was in lifted slightly off the ground as she did so, revealing her dainty looking feet dressed in strappy sandals. Possibly not the most practical set of adventuring footwear - I personally preferred sabatons, or failing that some really sturdy boots - but it fit her well enough, and the outfit as a whole had a sorta ‘I guess it technically works’ vibe to it. Like, I wanted to say that the long skirt was completely impractical, but considering how Amy’s spell worked..

“Alright, I guess it’ll do,” I declared, giving it my reluctant seal of approval. 

“It’ll do?” Amy asked, sounding almost offended. “It’s perfect for me!”

“I mean, I guess,” I begrudgingly admitted, “but you should seriously look into getting some leather under the skirt, too.”

“Perhaps later, when we have time to go to a proper armor shop,” Amy replied. “What took you so long, by the way? I thought you were just going to go talk to some guards, but you actually took long enough for them to finish my clothes and then some.”

“Yeah, well, apparently the guards needed more than a little talking to. I had to threaten to get the king involved just to get them up and moving, and even then they just kept complaining about ‘some rich brat’ telling them how to do their jobs - I might have had to teach one of them a lesson.”

“You fought the guards?” Amy asked me, aghast.

“No! I mean, yes, but it was, like, a sanctioned duel! With witnesses and everything! And I mostly just pulled his pants down in front of everyone. And pulled his shirt over his head. And kicked him in the ass a few times, too fast for anyone to see it, but in my defense it made for a really big target.”

“Was that guard George?” Lilith asked, bringing a hand to her mouth as she chuckled. “Oh my. You might want to be careful with that one.”

“I’m not worried about some guard holding a grudge,” I scoffed. “Especially now some lowdown who can’t even be bothered to do his job right…”

“Oh not a grudge, no - it’s just… Well, it’s just a rumor, you understand, but I’ve heard he rather likes that sort of thing…”

I paled. “Oh for… ugh. Whatever. If he wants to come find me at school, I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget - except next time I’ll do it by burying him in paperwork or something. Let’s see him get off on that.”

“As you say,” Lilith replied, chuckling again. It was a cute chuckle, too - soft, and gentle, sorta. Maybe chuckle wasn’t even the right word for it? But it didn’t seem high pitched enough to be a giggle, so I’d stick with chuckle for now. “Now, as for the matter of the clothes… I think a stag should suffice.”

“Just one?” I asked, glancing between Lilith and Amy. “That’s a pretty high quality outfit from what I can tell - and you even went to the trouble of sizing it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I can hardly overcharge the ones who saved my sister and me,” Lilith replied. “And besides, Miss Johnson will likely be glad we managed to unload the thing at all - it really has been on the shelves for quite some time.”

“If you say so…” I replied, handing over a silver coin. Of course, I fully planned to slip a couple more in her pocket before we left - as an apology, if nothing else - but there wasn’t much point in arguing with someone who was trying to be nice.

“Why do you call them stags, anyway?” Amy asked, frowning.

It brought an odd look from Lilith and Bean, who were probably wondering if she’d ever even bothered looking at a coin before, but since I was pretty sure she hadn’t…

“Here,” I said, tossing her a silver. “See how it’s got the king’s face on one side, and a stag’s head on the other? That’s why.”

“Then, the reason why coppers are called stars?” she asked, next.

I flipped her a copper in response - one with three stars on the back. “Before you ask, golds are called racks because they’ve got an elk head on them.”

“A stag and an elk?” Amy asked, frowning. “Those seem awfully similar - is there a reason for that?”

“Ooh, I know this one!” Bean volunteered, waving her little hand in the air. “It’s ‘cause the king - the old king, like… the super old, way back when the kingdom started king - he went on a hunting trip with his sworn brother, and they each brought down a prey! The king took down an elk, while his brother brought in a stag - and when the duke tried to say that stags were better, the king went and replied that elks were the ‘golden standard’!”

“Did your big sister teach you that?” I asked, shooting a glance Lilith’s way.

Both girls shook their heads though. 

“I heard it from Old Man Timmothy,” Bean explained. “He rambles on about all sortsa interesting things when he gets drunk!”

“Well, it’s not quite how I was taught it,” I admitted. “I was told that they took down one animal, and just couldn’t decide whether it was an elk or a deer - but honestly, I couldn’t tell you that my answer’s any more right than yours. Pretty sure the truth was lost to time… though it’s kinda funny hearing you of all people bringing the matter up, Amy.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, frowning a little - an expression that looked somehow almost like a pout coming from her. I didn’t know how she did it - a frown from Amelia could cause a girl’s blood to freeze in place, but a frown from Amy just sorta made you wanna pat her on the head and ask her what was wrong. For all that the woman often copied the original Amelia’s actions and mannerisms, there was just something of a different feel about them - at least once you got close enough to her to see past the superficial similarities. Almost like a garnet, up against a ruby - sure, they could both shine the same, but one of them was generally considered a lot more valuable than the other… Though, thinking about it that way, I wasn’t sure which of the two were the ruby and which was the garnet.

“Bridgette?” Amy asked, tugging me from my thoughts.

“Right, sorry - it’s just… Well, the king’s sworn brother was sorta your ancestor, so to speak - the original Duke Tearbolt.”

~~~

Author's Notes

I've said it before, and I'll say it again - if anyone in this story gets a harem, it's Bridgette.*

*Bridgette does not get a harem.

That said? I didn't expect this scene to take a whole chapter - but this story does what it wants, so here we are! We'll get to the guild next time. (Probably in a couple days.)

Of course, if you're impatient, you can read 5 chapters ahead on my Patreon for as little as $1~! (Also, all members - free and paid - get access to my discord, where I post many many pictures of my lizard. Clearly very important information.)

PS: The observant among you might notice I retconned Amelia's last name. I don't generally like to do that sort of thing, but my friend Sammy insisted 'Thornhopple" was too stupid to let stand so here we are.

“Welcome to The Guild!” Bridgette declared, gesturing to a building that almost seemed to live up to that grand name. It was two stories tall, dwarfing any of the buildings surrounding it, and looked to be in nicer shape than almost anything else in the neighborhood.

Of course, the neighborhood wasn’t really anything to write home about in the first place, but still.

“Come on,” Bridgette said, seemingly oblivious to my silent critique. “Let’s get registered!”

“Wait, you too?” I asked, surprised. “You want to become an ad- I mean, a Guild member?”

“Well, someone’s gotta keep an eye on you,” Bridgette replied.

“Right. I suppose the king wouldn’t want you letting me out of your sight,” I muttered, frowning at the reminder.

“Huh?” Bridgette blinked. “Oh. Yeah, I guess? But mostly I just want to make sure you don’t get your head knocked off. I do care about that sort of thing, you know?”

“Right. Of course.” I looked away, not quite sure why I was blushing. I knew she didn’t mean anything by it - it was simply her duty as a knight to keep others safe. Still, something about her actively telling me she cared just… Well, it felt nice, was all.

“Come on,” Bridgette said, taking my hand and tugging me into the building. “First things first, we’ve gotta check in with one of the secretaries.”

“Right,” I murmured. Guild secretaries were something of a staple in fantasy stories, so I thought I knew what to expect. Namely ladies - for some reason, guild secretaries in fiction were almost always women. Often business-like but caring, and taking no nonsense whatsoever from their adventurer clientele.

Indeed, as expected, the secretary Bridgette took me to was a lady - though I did notice a man manning another station. Not only that, but the lady in question had a prim and proper looking hairstyle, and was dressed in neat attire - what looked to be a blouse and pencil skirt, more or less.

She was also balancing a dagger on her fingertip.

“Hello and welcome to The Guild!” she declared, in a chipper voice. “Are you here to put in a request, or join The Guild?”

“How do you know we’re not already members?” I asked, unable to help myself.

“Other than the fact that I’ve never seen you in here before?” the lady asked, flipping the dagger up in the air and catching it on her fingertip again - or rather, just above her fingertip I realized, looking closer. It was floating in midair.

“We could be travelers from afar,” I pointed out.

“Could be,” she agreed. “You aren’t though - or your first stop would have been the job board. People only come to me if they wanna officially register a request. Or if they wanna turn in a finished request, I guess, but again - I’ve never seen you in here before.”

“We’re here to join The Guild,” Bridgette said, before I could press further.

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you are,” the girl agreed, flipping her knife into the air again. Except this time, after twirling a few times, it suddenly stopped in midair and flew backward, pinning someone to the wall by their sleeve. “I told you not to try and steal my lunch, Tom!”

“I wasn’t planning on it!” the man - Tom - protested. “I keep my lunch in there, too!”

“You didn’t pack lunch today, Tom,” the secretary replied, glaring. Still, the knife pulled itself free from the wall and flew back into her hand. “So stay away!”

“But-”

“No buts!” she snapped, before turning back towards us and speaking in a much softer tone. “Sorry about that. Tom’s an ass, so I’m not letting him eat today.”

“So he did pack lunch?” I asked, unable to help myself.

“Of course he did. The man’s a pig - in more ways than one. Pinched my damn ass this morning, when I was just trying to walk by. He’s lucky I didn’t gut him - figured petty workplace bullying would be more entertaining revenge… and probably won’t land me back in a prison cell, besides.”

“I usually frown on bullying people,” Bridgette remarked.

“Yeah, well, did I mention he also cheats at cards? And on his wife.”

“On his wife?” Bridgette asked.

“I mean, only in his thoughts, mind you - it’s a miracle the man convinced anyone to lay with him without coin involved. I heard he knocked her up - got a better wife than he deserved from it. Honestly, I’d probably be doing her a favor by skewering him - but I’m not a charity and I don’t particularly miss the jail cells so I won’t.”

“Right…” Bridgette’s smile looked a bit strained, but she pushed on anyway. “So, about joining The Guild?”

“Usually it’s six stars apiece, but tell you what - I’ll make a special deal, just ‘cause I like you: a stag for the both of you!”

“Ginny!” boomed a voice, as a rather large woman came stomping down the stairs. A redhead, with a scar across one eye, and a glint of anger in the other. “You wouldn’t be trying to fleece the newcomers, would you?”

“No, Auntie!” Ginny replied, giving her a beaming look. “I was even gonna give them a discount, for joining together!”

“A discount, huh?” the woman asked, eyeing us. “Fine. Five stars, instead of six - and I’ll take the extra from your paycheck.”

“Gah! Lady, you’re killing me here!” Ginny cried. “I was just trying to be helpful and stuff!”

“By overcharging us?” Bridgette asked.

“You look like you could afford it,” Ginny said, shrugging. “Would you believe I’ve got a little brother who’s going hungry at home while I desperately work for tips?”

“Do you?” I asked, unable to help myself.

“No, but if you believe that then I’ve got a whole boatload of things I can sell you!”

“Enough!” the redhead snapped. “Just get them sorted, Ginny.”

“Yes, Auntie,” Ginny grumbled.

“That’s Guildmaster Mollassa to you!” the woman said, before making her way back up the stairs.

“What did she even come down for in the first place?” Ginny complained, reaching under the desk and pulling out a black box, followed by two odd looking stones. “I tell you, she just likes to mess with me!”

“Uh-huh,” Bridgette replied. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to scam people based on their looks, you wouldn’t get in so much trouble.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’d find a way, thanks. Anyway, what do you know about The Guild?”

“Very little,” I admitted.

“A little,” Bridgette said. “Though I’m starting to think I should find another Guild guide…”

“Oh come on!” Ginny pleaded, giving us puppy dog eyes. “Tom’s a sexist ass, and Edwina’s boring.”

“Boring sounds like what we want in an onboarding instructor,” I pointed out.

“No it isn’t!” Ginny protested. “You want fun, and excitement! Someone who will tell you all the tips and tricks! Plus, you know, I actually know shit - way more so than the other secretaries. And I’m bored, so I’ll give you lots of free info that I probably shouldn’t!”

“Why are you even interested in keeping us around?” I asked, admittedly more curious than suspicious.

“Other than the bored thing?” Ginny asked back. “There’s uh… sort of a backroom competition of sorts when it comes to bringing newbies onboard. We compete and make bets on which newbs will do best.”

“And you think we’ll do good?”

“I mean, mostly I just don’t have anyone interesting on the board, but uh… Maybe? Even if you’re personally useless, your personal knight here should be able to take down a monster or two, right?”

“I’m not useless!” I protested.

“And I’m not her personal knight!” Bridgette replied. “I mean, I’m still in training for one thing, and… I… I mean…”

“She wants to be part of the royal guard,” I said. “Something I have no doubt she’ll succeed in, should she put proper effort into it.”

“Yeah…” Bridgette replied, oddly stiffly. “That.”

“Uh-huh,” Ginny said, glancing between the two of us. “Well, alright. Either way. All you really need to know about The Guild is this!”

“I never actually agreed to have you do on onboarding,” I pointed out.

“You really wanna wait on those dumbdumbs to be free?” Ginny asked. “There’s a reason my line was pretty much non-existent, you know! You’ll actually have to wait on those two - and also if you keep shopping around, you might get the Guildmistress upset - and also, c’mon, I’m practically begging here! I’m so bored at this job… nobody ever really dares to make trouble anymore, so I don’t even get to stab anyone…”

“Right,” Bridgette said. “We should probably get in line with one of the others.”

“Pleaaaase?” Ginny begged. “It’s not like you have to go through me every time in the future! Just let me do the onboarding, and write down that I did it - promise you’ll get the best treatment ever! I won’t even stab you!”

“I don’t think that’s as convincing as you think it is,” I remarked, only to falter as the girl directed her puppy dog eyes at me again. “But… I… suppose it wouldn’t do any harm…”

“Really?” Ginny asked, grinning.

I glanced over to Bridgette, wondering if she’d back me up, and received a shrug in return. “I mean, if she really wanted to hurt us, I’d probably be dead. I’m guessing her affinity is metal, after all - right?”

“Yup!” Ginny replied. “Makes me valuable, dangerous, and juuuuust a little bit psychotic! Or maybe the last part’s just me? Who knows! Anyway, back to what I was saying earlier - all you need to know about The Guild is this!” Saying so, she picked up one of the odd stones she’d taken out from underneath the desk. It was largely oval in shape, but curved inwards towards the center, creating a rather narrow point in between the two rotund halves.

“This is called a ‘samestone’ - know why?”

I shook my head, while Bridgette said nothing.

Ginny grinned - and then grabbed both ends of the stone and snapped it in half. “‘Cause both halves are the same!”

Bridgette and I exchanged glances. “I… don’t get it?”

“It’s simple!” Ginny insisted, hold up the two broken halves. Halves that quickly regenerated into two new, identical ‘samestones.’ “What’s your name?”

“Bridgette Coppaira,” Bridgette volunteered, before I could.

Ginny flipped her knife up, and grabbed it by the handle. Then she held the stone with one hand and etched the name Bridgette into the surprisingly soft rock. Even more surprising is what happened to the other stone - even as the name was etched in one, the other mirrored its markings.

“Samestones!” Ginny repeated, as if that explained everything.

“So anything you etch in one appears on the other?” I asked, to confirm.

“Etching is just the start!” Ginny replied. “The second tool we use at The Guild is called a ‘scriber’ - it lets you embed information inside an inanimate object! Watch!” Saying so, she pressed the stone against the black box she’d taken out alongside it. When she did, the stone passed straight through the block, disappearing inside. “Now I just put my hand on this, and I can imprint it with all sorts of things! Your name, your image, your preferred role within The Guild, any specialties you have, and of course your rank!”

“Our preferred role?” I asked, latching onto that in particular. “Like… our class? Such as whether we’re a knight, or a mage?”

“I mean, that’s usually more of a specialty, I’d say? I’m more talking about whether you’re a hunter, a gatherer, a healer, or a freelancer. Sometimes people put up requests for other party members, and helping to make connections is one of the services we offer to our members! Assuming both members are willing to meet, and also pay a… ahem. Small fee?”

“An actual fee, or are you just making it up again?” Bridgette asked.

“That depends - are you looking to make use of that service?”

“I don’t think so,” I admitted.

“Then I suggest we leave it a mystery and move on! For the sake of me maybe scamming you in the future, if nothing else.”

“Right…” I murmured, trying not to frown. I could tell that working with Ginny was going to be… interesting. And likely headache inducing. But it was also sort of fun? Something I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing, amidst my recent life and death struggle to prove myself.

“Anyway, there’s a third magical device we use, called an ‘accessor’ - that’s what lets you actually read the info that’s been put on these stones. Without them, The Guild would be pretty worthless.”

I nodded, mentally equating it to the equivalent of a computer and a monitor. One could inscribe information on the stones, while the other was needed in order to actually see what you were doing.

“You’re not using an accessor, though, are you?” Bridgette asked.

“Nope! I’m doing this blind. Way more fun that way. And also these things are blank, so it’s not like I need to overwrite what’s already on them…”

“That makes sense, I suppose,” I mused. “And it’s a relief to know that there’s some security involved, if not just anyone can read them.”

“Just anyone with a perfectly legal to purchase - but admittedly hard to get your hands on - reader!” Ginny confirmed. “Also, samestones can be split pretty much indefinitely, and they all keep the same markings, so uh… be careful not to break them, okay? Extra copies sound cool and all, but destroying one destroys all of them, and then we’re stuck with only the stuff we’ve committed to paper, so be careful, okay? Not that they’re exactly easy to break in anything but the intended way…”

“Does that ever happen?” I ask. “People’s stones, with all their information, being destroyed?”

“Usually only when The Guild personally kicks you out,” Ginny replied. “But let me tell you about this one time a rank S adventurer pissed off a really petty Guild worker - the end results were not pretty!”

~~~

Author's Notes

Not much to say on this one? We finally got to the guild! And met Ginny. Who I didn't really plan for???? And who I promise to use sparingly (but yeah, we'll see her again.)

I felt like I struggled a bit with both Bridgette and Amy's voices in this chapter, so I hope the end result is alright...?

It's been a pretty bad depression day... didn't fully get out of bed until 4 PM... I'll be alright, though. Eventually. Always am.

PS: As always, you can read 5 chapters ahead on Patreon for as little as $1~! I'd try to hype it up more, but I'm afraid depression is winning this round ;;;

Amy

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let me pick a quest,” I grumbled, as we made our way back towards our house.

“You said that already,” Bridgette remarked. “Twenty minutes ago. And twenty twenty minutes before that. And twenty minutes before that.”

“Well, I can’t help being incredulous, now can I?” I demanded. “We sat through all of Ginny’s talk, and got signed up, and then you just… demanded we go home!”

“Because we have class tomorrow!” Bridgette reminded me. “Hunting monsters is a weekend thing. Unless you want to show up to your classes all tired and bruised up?”

“We could try to group up with a healer,” I pointed out. “It is the healing guild as well, is it not?”

“Yeah, but the real good healers go to the actual dedicated healers guild for the most part,” Bridgette explained. “We mostly get those who can heal a few bruises, or maybe even just their own wounds.”

“That still sounds better than going without. We might want to recruit a gatherer, too, come to think of it - seeing as how the two of us are more focused on the hunt.”

“Assuming we can find anyone who’d agree to us keeping the beast core. We’re sort of trying to keep the most valuable part of the missions to ourselves, in case you forgot.”

“Right… I suppose that might pose an issue with attracting talent…” I murmured. “We could let them have everything else we find on missions, though, couldn’t we? It’s not as if we need money, so long as I remain at the academy…”

“That might work,” Bridgette said - though she sounded uncertain to my ears. “The core’s really the most valuable part, though. You can use it as a self-enhancer, or integrate it with weapons or shields to buff them, sometimes, depending on the monster. Not to mention their obvious use in mana potions.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll be asking the guild for help in that regard. Something I’d have loved to do before we left, if you hadn’t rushed me out the door.”

“Okay, so maybe I was a bit too quick on that,” Bridgette conceded, “but I saw you eyeing the wall of quests! I don’t think you’d have let me drag you out of there if I let you settle on something!”

“That’s… fair,” I conceded in turn. “But I’m still annoyed. We’ll likely have to go back after classes tomorrow, if we want to ask for help getting in contact with appropriate party members.”

“Unless we want to try recruiting from within the school?” Bridgette suggested. “I bet Pauline would be willing to help patch you up, for starters!”

“There’s no way I could drag Pauline into this,” I protested. “She’s undergone quite enough trouble for my sake - being forced to help teach me by the teacher, and all.”

“I dunno,” Bridgette replied. “Sure, Pauline’s the helpful sort, and yeah she can be kind of a pushover when it comes to helping people in need, but…” she trailed off. “Okay, so maybe I go talk to her on my own.”

“Don’t. Please. I don’t want to pressure her into spending extra time around me, when my appearance surely causes her pain…”

“Oh come on,” Bridgette said, rolling her eyes, “it’s not like Amelia traumatized her that badly.”

“She almost died from Amelia’s poisons, did she not?”

“And probably would have if she didn’t have a spell ready to burn out poisons!” Bridgette replied. “But none of that stopped her from healing you, back when we weren’t even sure if you were Amelia or not.”

“And now she’s stuck dealing with me, as a result of her own good actions,” I said. “Not that I’m anything but grateful, of course, but… well, I think it’s best I show that gratitude by trying to stay away from her where possible…”

“If you say so,” Bridgette replied, shaking her head. “I still say you should try to recruit a gatherer from the school, though. Maybe one of the students who’ve actually bothered to sign up for alchemy classes? The school usually has enough supplies for most potions, but I’ve heard of this one girl who’s constantly hounding the staff for oddball ingredients.”

“It’s a place to start at least,” I admitted. “And one that doesn’t involve going to the guild again before we’re ready for a mission…”

“Definitely a plus in my book!” Bridgette confirmed.

“For now, though, I think it’s time to get some rest…”

“Food first, then rest,” Bridgette replied. “Though I’m pretty sure Clara said we’re going to run out of food soon? And then you’ll actually be forced into the cafeteria. Unless we wanna use the king’s stipend for that, I guess?”

“I hardly see the problem in eating amongst my peers,” I replied, shaking my head. “Best to save our stipend for times of need, I think.”

“They’re not exactly your peers, though,” Bridgette pointed out. “I mean, not to sound pretentious or anything, but I’m not sure you have peers at this point. You’re not an aristocrat anymore, but I wouldn’t call you a common peasant either considering who you’re engaged to…”

“Yes, well, be that as it may, as long as nobody tries to cause me trouble while I dine I think it’ll be fine. For now, though, let’s get a meal and head to bed.”

Bridgette mere;ly grunted in affirmation.

***

???

***

I knew it was a dream. Not in the very first moments, perhaps - in fact, at first I found myself panicking at the fact that I couldn’t control my body, even to shift my gaze or turn my head. I was stuck following the knights, into the familiar principal’s office, to where the king resided.

That was when I knew it was a dream. For I knew there was no reason for me to be standing before the king again, in a body not my own.

The king spoke, and I listened. Then my body spoke, and I listened. Listened to it say that I wasn’t Amelia.

Then I listened to the king - listened to his approval, to his pleasure at not being faced with that horrible bitch. Heard him suggest that we put everything to right. That I be inherited by the duke.

That was when I realized it wasn’t a dream, but a nightmare. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stomp my feet. Some part of me even wanted to cry, I think. Most of all, though, I wanted to protest.

Yet my lips wouldn’t move. They weren’t mine. Not anymore. I couldn’t use them, couldn’t speak through them, couldn’t spit upon the idea of being reconnected to a treacherous man who’d only ever sought to control me. To use me.

I was going to be bound to him, again. Even in this dream - this nightmare - I knew full well I couldn’t escape.

So imagine my surprise when at last my lips opened - and refused him.

***

I sat upright in bed, a hand over my heart, breathing hard. There was a dampness on my sheets, I realized after a moment, and for an instant I feared that perhaps I’d done something uncomely, such as drool upon them… until I felt the wetness on my cheeks.

I’d been crying.

“Well, well, well, someone was certainly having a nightmare,” a familiar voice drawled. 

I threw a pillow in their direction. “Shut up. I dreamt I was back there. In my own form.”

“An odd dream, then, wasn’t it?” the demon mused, batting my pillow out of the air. “Perhaps because you miss home?”

“Miss home?” I asked, wanting nothing more than to spit at the mere idea of it - but to do so felt as if I’d be letting loose my last bits of femininity, and giving into this horrible masculine shell I was stuck to. Not that spitting was inherently masculine, I suppose, but it certainly wasn’t the work of a Lady. “The only thing I miss about that place is my form - nothing more, and nothing less.”

“Is that so?” the demon asked. “You know, even if you manage to use this world’s medicine to change your body, you won’t go back to how you looked before. Not without a lot of plastic surgery.”

“And I suppose you have an alternate answer?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. I was curious as to what they meant about ‘plastic surgery’ but I didn’t want to appear too intrigued or ignorant of anything in the midst of a negotiation.

“Magic, of course,” the demon replied. “Preferably applied to those little pills they like to give mortals in this world. Something to boost them, more or less - the changes would be slow enough to pass for a normal transition, but the end result would be significantly closer to your original appearance than what this world’s medicine could normally achieve.”

“Closer?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Not perfect, then?”

“What in life is?” the demon asked. “The medicine of this world cannot help with certain… anatomical features, shall we say? Not without surgery, at least. And to skip that surgery with magic would mean to have no documentation of it.”

“Do I need documentation to change such a part?” I asked, frowning. “Why is it anyone’s business whether my anatomy perfectly matches what they think it should?”

“I suppose it isn’t,” the demon admitted, “but it’ll raise quite a few questions if it’s ever discovered, I assure you…”

“More than medicine magically changing me from this into what I used to be?”

“Quite a bit more,” the demon confirmed. “Many a mortal already considers those pills to be borderline magic in how they work, after all. Even your face structure’s reshaping can be explained as makeup or a trick of the light, to most. Especially if you cut off what few ties the former of this body had.”

“I’ve already cut off ties, I’d say. Seeing as how I haven’t answered a single one of the missives sent to him.” I glanced to the side as I spoke, to the rectangular device I knew to be a ‘phone.’ I had learned the basics of how to turn it on, and while many of its functions still baffled me I was fairly certain I could at least manage to send a rudimentary message or two if I wished… but what use did I have for this man’s former friends and family?

“You’d be surprised how long some people cling to the idea of friendship,” the demon said, shaking their head. “I’m sure you could rebuild bridges if you wanted - but feel free to burn them, if you wish. The one you swapped with certainly seems to have little to no attachment to this world, after all, so they can’t have been that important to her.”

I made a small noise - not a grunt, for all that it sounded suspiciously like one coming from this body. Ladies didn’t grunt though, anymore than they spat. It was simply a-a noise of affirmation.

“Why are you even bothering to tempt me with all this?” I asked, after a moment. “Our old deal is still active, is it not? Seeing as how you’ve yet to make me happy.”

“True enough,” the demon confirmed. “But what’s the problem with a second contract, if we finish it quick? Especially if it leads closer to that happiness you seek.”

“If it leads to happiness, you should just do it,” I argued. “It’s your responsibility to fulfill your end of the deal, isn’t it?”

The demon didn’t respond, outside of a smug smile.

“I hate you,” I muttered, unable - unwilling - to contain the sentiment. “What could I even trade with you, anyway? You already own my soul.”

“Souls might be a universal currency, but they’re hardly the only thing of worth on the market,” the demon replied. “Did you know that there are places where people will sell their souls for a five pound bag of pure, refined sugar?”

“Are you… are you implying I didn’t have to offer my soul for your services?”

“It’s not my fault you lacked the imagination to offer anything else of value,” the demon replied, with that smug smile still in place. “Now go get dressed while I get you an uber - we’re going shopping.”

~~~

Author's Notes

I've been planning for this dream for a While, but wanted to wait until the day ended in-story. I've also been planning that bit about the sugar for a while - though I didn't initially expect the two plans to collide like this. It works, though! I think?

I'd like to work on a chapter of My Oni Love next - like I keep saying, I wanna get it up to chapter 8 so that I can be two ahead on Patreon again and maybe even start sharing some chapters to the public in the future... Unfortunately depression keeps kicking my ass, and MOV is the only thing I can write while depressed, so... I guess we'll see? (Today's supposed to be an editing day, but it's basically a writing day already so... Hmm.)

Speaking of Patreon, you probably already know this, but you can actually read 5 chapters ahead on this series for as little as $1~! Plus, all members (including free ones) get a link to the discord server, where I post many, many pictures of my lizard. (Clearly the main incentive for joining.) 

PS: This note's a bit out of date, since I've actually released up to chapter 28 to the public. Will try to do a quick few updates to get you to the present

In all the excitement at The Guild, and the crazy whirlwind that was Ginny, I’d more or less forgotten my initial purpose in going - to actually practice my abilities upon non-living targets. Something I’d need to do before I took on a proper quest and tried to use my power on monsters.

Not that I entirely knew what I wanted to test - the distance my tentacles could reach, perhaps? The limit to the weight they could lift? How much force I could apply with them if I whipped them around with a lead core at the end? 

None of that actually required a dedicated training room, though… It also sounded rather boring to go through, in all honesty, so it might have perhaps been for the best that we’d skipped it. Honestly, I wasn’t sure there was even a point, thinking on it - I’d proven adroit enough with my tentacles that I wasn’t worried about my ability to control them, and while there was arguably a point in knowing my precise limits I wasn’t sure there was much point in knowing the exact weight at which my tentacles would feel a strain.

Then again, Bridgette would probably yell at me if I went into the field without doing at least a little testing… and so it was that I found myself in the back yard of the estate, using a watering can with one tentacle and pruning flowers with two others.

“So multi-tasking is a go,” I murmured to myself, putting the watering can down and plucking up one of the logs we kept around for the fireplace. “I’d say this is roughly ten pounds? Maybe a bit more… and there is a bit of a strain holding it, so I don’t think I’ll be able to take much more… That probably means I won’t be swinging any beasts about, or seizing their legs to make them stop. Strange that I can lift myself with so little struggle, though… It makes me think I should perhaps devote the last subspell to strength? Though I’m still torn between that and stickiness.”

“Stickiness without strength?” Bridgette asked, causing me to jump a little from surprise. “That sounds like a recipe for disaster if you clamp onto something stronger than you.”

“Yeah, but I could use it to climb buildings and stuff!” I pointed out. “Or swing around, even! Like a web slinger!”

“I’m not so sure what that means,” Bridgette said, “but it sounds like a bad idea considering the tentacles come out from under your skirt.”

“Right,” I murmured. “I guess that might make climbing a bit difficult…”

“My Lady,” Clara said, making me jump all over again as she appeared behind me, speaking in a chilly voice. “I must ask that you not flash the entire populace with Lady Amelia’s form?”

“First off - did you seriously just teleport behind me to say that?” I demanded, putting hands on my hips.

“Actually, I’ve been here for a while,” Clara replied. “You were simply too invested in your training to notice.”

“Well… okay, then! But second, even if tentacle-slinging travel is off the menu-”

“And it is,” Clara stated.

“Even if! Keeping in mind the fact that I can totally make tentacles appear all over to hide my underwear!”

“Not helping,” Bridgette muttered.

“I’m still not so sure I wanna just choose strength like that. I think it’s better to keep the fourth slot open - just in case I run into an emergency issue that a fourth slot can hold.”

Bridgette had nothing to say to that. Clara was the same. In fact, their silence eventually grew awkward to the point where I felt like I had no choice but to break it.

“Is there something the matter?”

“No, it’s just really weird to hear you thinking ahead like this,” Bridgette admitted.

Clara nodded.

“You…” I grit my teeth for a moment, before crossing my arms and turning away from them. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

“Because you know we’re right?” Bridgette suggested.

“Do not!” I protested, fully aware of the fact that I was pouting. “I’ll have you know I lived as a mostly functional adult back in my old world, without help from you or anyone else. I’m quite capable of thinking for myself.”

“I don’t believe either of us meant to imply otherwise, my Lady,” Clara said. “It’s just that you have a tendency not to think things through before acting on them.”

“So what? I have a brain, but I don’t use it?”

Clara didn’t say anything to that. Nor did Bridgette. Which, I suppose, was all the answer I needed.

“Well… screw you,” I declared, turning away from them and stomping back into the house.

“Breakfast is on the table,” Clara called out.

“I’m not hungry,” I lied. Of course, my stomach chose just that moment to growl. “And even if I was I’d rather eat at this school cafeteria I keep hearing of over some meal made by a maid who doesn’t even believe in me.”

“You’re sulking,” Clara said, frowning.

“So what if I am?” I replied, not quite able to meet her eyes. “It’s been a rather stressful time for me, in case you’ve missed it. Tossed into a new world I thought I knew, but apparently still barely understand. Forced to stand trial at risk of having my head cut off. Not to mention the fact that I nearly died before even getting that far! And now it seems that the only allies I have are astonished to find me thinking even the slightest bit about my future.”

Neither woman had anything to say to that. Not that I bothered to stick around and listen, stomping towards the door.

“What’s the racket about?” called Firanna, stumbling out of the hallway in a nightgown.

“Ask your knight,” I replied, stiffly, before heading out the door.

Of course, it wasn’t until a few minutes later that I realized I had no idea where in the world the academy’s cafeteria actually was.

 

 

“Do you think we should go after her?” I asked, standing in the doorway, staring at Amy’s retreating back. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to get lost if we don’t.”

“I don’t think that would be wise,” Clara replied. “She seems to need some alone time… Not to mention the fact that you can’t be trusted not to say you’re real reasoning for wanting to follow her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, feeling suddenly defensive.

“That you don’t trust in her to find her own way, of course,” Clara replied. “What? Did you think I was referring to something else? Perhaps in regards to your feelings about my Lady?”

“Feelings?” Firanna broke in. “What feelings? Who has feelings? For who?”

“No one has feelings,” I said, firmly. Thankfully Amy wasn’t there to call me on it, or I might have had some trouble. “Come on, let’s eat breakfast, and… trust Amy to sort things out on her own, I guess…”

“I’m sure even my Lady can’t get into too much trouble on school grounds,” Clara remarked, before grimacing. “Though I suppose it’s comments like that which have had her running away…”

“I’m sort of surprised you care,” I admitted. “Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings for her, or something?”

“Of course not,” Clara scoffed. “She is my Lady - nothing more or less. If I care, it’s only because ensuring her mental well-being is part of my job as her servant.”

“Uh… I’m pretty sure that isn’t part of a normal maid’s duties,” I said, before turning towards Firanna. “It isn’t, right?”

“W-well yes. I mean no! I mean yes, you’re right that it’s no, it’s not. Though I’ve heard some women have deeper relationships with their personal attendants, I’ve never thought it proper myself. I mean, forcing someone who’s just there for coin to listen to you babble about everything and anything, and then trusting them to keep silent about whatever you’ve let slip is just… I mean, not that I have any secrets to let slip in the first place! But um, speaking of secrets… I do believe there was some talk about feelings before?”

“It’s not important,” I said, shaking my head. “Clara’s just getting ahead of herself.”

“Oh, so you don’t have feelings for anyone, then? Anyone at all?”

“I mean, even if I did, I wouldn’t act on them,” I said, firmly. “I mean, you and Amy are engaged for goodness sakes!”

“It’s a political arrangement, nothing more,” Firanna reminded me. “I’m sure if you had feelings for - for one of us, well, it wouldn’t be a problem would it?”

“”I don’t have feelings for Amy!” I protested - a little louder than I meant to.

“A-Amy?” Firanna whispered. “You have feelings for… for…”

“I just said I don’t! She’s your fiancee, and I’d never get in the way of my friend’s love life.”

“It’s - I mean, I’m not - I mean, you’re…”

“Clearly in love with Amy?” Clara suggested.

“Am not!” I protested. “I mean, it’s a crush if anything - and a really annoyingly irrational one, too, seeing as how she’s pretty much done nothing but gotten on my nerves since she got here. Always complaining, constantly fighting me even when I try to give her a compliment, making adorable faces at the drop of a hat - did you notice she’s been doing less of that blank face recently? It feels like she’s really opening up lately. I wouldn’t wanna ruin that with some stupid crush.”

“You…” Firanna whispered. “You have a crush on Amy…”

“It’s not like I’m going to act on it,” I promised. “Like I said, she’s your fiancee! It wouldn’t be right.”

“You… I mean, I… But… what about me?” Firanna said, her voice lowering until it was barely audible at the end.

“About… you?”

“Yes!” she replied, stomping her foot. “What about me? I - I never asked to marry that… that tramp! That homewrecker! I only even agreed to this stupid engagement so that I could spend time with you and now you’re in love with her?”

“You… wanted to spend more time with me?” I asked. “You know you could just ask for that, right? I mean we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“You idiot!” Firanna screamed, before running out the door. I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes, too.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, glancing at Clara.

She shook her head. “I’m not getting involved in this.”

“Involved in what?” I pressed. “I keep telling you two that nothing’s going to happen between me and Amy!”

“Are you really this oblivious?” Clara asked. “Or do you just have a blindspot when it comes to Firanna?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted. “Do you know why she got mad?”

“Perhaps it has something to do with the density of a certain knight’s head?” Clara suggested, sounding amused.

“What do you mean? Don’t tell me Firanna’s upset that I like Amy? I mean, I know they’re engaged, but-”

“You’re approaching it from the wrong angle,” Clara said, shaking her head. “It’s not about Amy - it’s about you.”

“Me?” I asked, blinking. “I don't get it?”

“For goodness sake,” Clara muttered, pressing a hand against her forehead. “She likes you.”

“Likes… me?” I parroted back, pointing at my chest. “Me? I’m not even a proper knight, though - not even a proper noble, really, if you ask most people…”

“And Amy is, by all standards, a commoner. I hardly see what rank has to do with matters of emotion.”

“But… I mean, we’ve known each other since childhood. Wouldn’t she have said something by now if she was interested?”

“Have you tried expressing your interest in Amy?” Clara countered.

“Well, no. But only because I know it can’t go anywhere!”

“Just like Firanna knows nothing can happen between her and her crush, perhaps?”

“That’s… I mean, there’s no way… I mean, yeah, she’s a bit weird around me, but she’s always been! You’re suggesting she’s… what? Been hiding a crush from me since childhood?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Clara replied. “I wouldn’t want to get involved in royal affairs. But if you want to sort out who’s feeling what for whom, I suggest you have a proper conversation - all three of you.”

I grimaced. She was right and I knew it, but something told me it wasn’t going to be a fun conversation…

“Ugh… Hey, Clara - any chance I could convince you to dine alone tonight? Something tells me tonight’s dinner conversation is going to be awkward.”

“Awkward is likely to prove an understatement. But who knows? Maybe it’ll actually lead to an improvement.”

“Yeah… maybe…” Personally, I thought this whole thing was more likely to blow up in all our faces… but hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?

 

~~~

 

Author's Notes

 

This chapter sorta got away from me... not that i really had a set path I expected it to take in the first place? This series as a whole is basically operating without rails, tbh. The characters have been doing their own thing from the start, and while there's some basic plot points I wanna hit, I have no idea how long it'll take to actually hit them.

This chapter in particular started with me realizing they'd Forgotten To Train at the guild, and then continued with, "Okay, I need to fill space, so let's just let the characters talk and see what happens."

Apparently the answer to that question is Communication, so... hope you enjoy?

I was making my way towards class when I heard it - a sharp pitched scream, coming from some nearby trees. At the same time, the branches began to shake and sway as if some great ruckus was occurring - but when I tried to peek between the branches, all I could see was a writhing mass of… tentacles?

“Gah! For the last time, I’m sorry for disturbing your nest, alright? I was only trying to get a better look at my surroundings! So please stop trying to peck at me!”

“Caw!” came the response, followed by a yelp - and then a moment later a figure came tumbling down, stopped from hitting the ground at the last moment as a set of tentacles managed to wrap around the lower branches.

Unfortunately, that left her hanging upside down - something the… enemy? Took advantage of, swooping down to land on her foot and pecking at her from atop it.

“Ouch!” she cried, withdrawing her tentacles and collapsing to the ground.

“Are you alright?” I asked Amy - because of course that’s who it was. Who else on campus would bother arguing with a bird like this?

“I’m fine,” she replied, gruffly. “It’s this dratted bird that’s the problem!” 

Saying so she picked herself up, while the bird in question perched on a branch above our heads and let loose another “Caw!”

“You know, I heard ravens were quite smart,” she muttered, “but this one either can’t or won’t get it through his head that I’m not trying to rob the damn nest! I didn’t even know it was up there!”

“What were you doing up there?” I couldn’t help but ask. “I heard you say something about seeing your surroundings?”

“Yes, well, I’m somewhat lost if you must know,” she admitted, brushing off her skirts while studiously looking away from me. It was honestly kind of adorable. “I got into an argument with my roommates and stormed off without really thinking about the direction… You know, this academy really is far too big! It’s meant to be a place of learning, and yet I’ve been walking around for half an hour without even seeing a single building.”

“I think that has more to do with your sense of direction than anything,” I couldn’t help but quip, a little smile coming to my lips. It got a bit wider when I saw how flustered poor Amy looked.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I still say there’s too much room… You could get up to all sorts of things around here, and who knows whether anyone would ever catch on?”

“Stuff like what?” I asked, a little curious. A little worried, too, as memories of Amelia and all the trouble she’d caused flashed through my mind - but I didn’t think Amy was the sort to cause trouble.

“I don’t know… maybe you could start a small vegetable garden, or some such? There was a story where I’m from, where a girl did that, I think… though I don’t remember the name off the top of my head.”

Amy flinched almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, looking all around her as if she expected something to happen.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she said. “It’s just… I sort of expected… someone I know to pop in with the name, and maybe another book recommendation?”

“Someone from the mysterious unnamed place you claim to be from?” I asked, my tone taking on a teasing edge without my meaning to. I really didn’t want to make her uncomfortable - didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, really! - But… she looked really cute when she squirmed. “Where people write stories about other people they’ve never even met?”

“That’s… I mean, it’s… it’s complicated, alright?” she muttered, not quite meeting my gaze. “Though if you must know-”

“You don’t have to tell me,” I interrupted, quickly. “Not if you don’t want me to know, I mean. I’m sure you have reasons for keeping it secret.”

“Mostly just fear of disbelief, if I’m being honest,” Amy admitted. “It’s just… I’m from another world.”

“Another… world?” I asked, frowning. “Like… one of those stories about parallel worlds?”

“Exactly!” Amy said, nodding. “From across the Ocean of Possibility, as the… one who brought me here put it. I’m afraid that’s a secret I’m really not at liberty to tell… though I’m rather surprised they haven’t come to show themselves off, to be honest.”

“Wait, is that who you were looking for before?” I asked, a bit alarmed. “Someone powerful enough to move people across worlds?”

“They’re mostly harmless,” she promised, quickly. “Or at least I think they are… they haven’t actually harmed anyone I’m aware of, at the very least… unless you count me, that is.”

A being powerful enough to move across worlds. I didn’t know what sort of being that was, but something told me that I didn’t particularly want to meet them.

“Ah… I’ve scared you, haven’t I?” Amy murmured, looking down at the ground. “My apologies. It’s… I understand if you don’t want to associate with me, knowing the risk.”

“What risk?” I asked, before I could stop myself. “Do you think they’d hurt me? Because I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself…”

“It’s not just physical harm you have to worry about,” Amy warned. “They’re the ones who shoved me into Amelia’s body - and if they can do that, there’s no telling what else they can do, if the mood strikes… Though. It’s possible they’re limited in how they can act here? I’m not really sure, to be honest. There’s a lot about them that doesn’t make sense.”

“We… could try to talk it out together? If you want?” I offered, not entirely sure why. My life was complicated enough, honestly, without taking on trouble for other people… but then, I’d never been the sort to just mind my own business, I suppose. Maybe it had something to do with my healing affinity, but when I saw people struggling I just wanted to help.

Amy hesitated. It’s possible she wasn’t sure about trusting me, which would be fine, but I was pretty sure there was something else stopping her instead.

“You don’t want to cause me trouble,” I said, so that she wouldn’t have to.

“I mean… Amelia caused you so much already,” she murmured. “And now I’m here, wearing her skin. You can’t say that doesn’t disturb you a little - being forced to spend time with someone who looks just like your abuser…”

“I… it is uncomfortable, sometimes,” I confessed. “But I think it’s worth it to get to know the girl who’s inside. You’re honestly really sweet… and kind of cute. I think even people who aren’t busybodies like me would probably be driven to try and help you.”

“I’d hardly describe you as a busybody!” Amy protested. “Just a nice person who likes to help others.”

“And who can’t keep her nose out of other people’s business,” I  replied, shaking her head. “Look - I have to head to class. But… maybe after, we could have a proper conversation? And not just about where you’re from, or what mysterious figure brought you here. I… I think I want to know more about you. I mean, seeing as how you’re in the body of my… um… attempted murderer? I guess?”

“That… would be nice,” Amy murmured, still not meeting my eyes.

“Yeah… nice,” I confirmed, only vaguely aware of how hot my cheeks were burning as I turned away. “Well, I’m off to class now, so… bye!”

I didn’t wait for her to respond - and I didn’t turn around, either. Not even when I heard a smooth, androgynous voice speaking from behind me.

“You know, if you’re a fan of Bakarina, there’s actually quite a few reincarnated villainess stories I could recommend. For example, have you ever heard of Isekai’d Shoggoth?”

 

Classes felt utterly interminable that day. The voice of my teachers, while never particularly sonorous, had never felt so grating to my ears. Even listening to their platitudes and compliments when I answered their questions or overperformed on their tests were like… like rusty nails dragging across iron, to my ears.

I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be taking classes, or listening to teachers prattle on about things my tutors had prepped me for long ago. I didn’t want to be sitting there, the precious princess there to show everyone that even their illegitimate daughter could do better than any of the nobles present. That’s all it was, in the end, after all - a show.

The worst part of it, though, was how much I’d had to work for it. How I’d fought tooth and nail to prove myself, once upon a time. To show that I was worthy of my royal blood, and the tutelage Father saw fit to grant me. I’d worked hard - all so that I could sit in this classroom and show off the royal family’s worth.

Why had I even bothered? Why had I tried so hard to be acknowledged, accepted, wanted when all that it truly meant for me in the end was an arranged marriage to someone I didn’t even know? Someone I could hardly stand - someone who my dear knight had a crush on.

I’d never thought anything could happen between me and Bridgette. Not really. Not when I’d always assumed I’d be shipped off to some other country, never to see her again… and yet now, I was allowed to be near her, allowed to live with her, and yet it was somehow more torturous than even my worst nightmares of being separated and sent to some callous man!

Needless to say, I was in something of a bad mood when my classes finally ended for the day. A mood that was made considerably worse when I saw the cause of all my recent ire humming happily to herself while sitting at a table, in the cafeteria’s courtyard.

“Waiting for someone?” I asked, glaring icy daggers at her. Not that she even seemed to notice.

“Pauline. She asked me to meet her here… Hey, if you’re going home, do you think you could tell Bridgette and Clara where I am? I think they’re liable to worry.”

“Tell them yourself,” I replied, in a tone as icy as my stare. “I’m sure Bridgette at least will be happy to hear from you, even if it is late.”

“That’s… I mean… Did I perhaps… do something wrong?”

“No,” I replied. Which was the truth. She hadn’t. It didn’t make me hate her any less, though. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you? A perfect innocent, dropped into danger - a maiden, waiting to be rescued by a fair knight.”

“Does this perhaps have something to do with your feelings for Bridgette?”

I froze. “You know?”

“I… It was fairly obvious,” she admitted. “I’d be more surprised if anyone who’d seen you together didn’t know. Other than Bridgette, that is - I get the feeling she’s a bit dense when it comes to romance.”

“You don’t say,” I drawled, narrowing my eyes at her. “What’s it matter to you, then, in any case? Jealous?”

“Um… no? Not jealous - I mean, she’s not mine. Not envious, either, for the record - if anything, I think the two of you would make a rather cute couple.”

“You… do?” I asked, blinking as my retort died upon my lips. “I mean, of course we would. Bridgette’s perfect - and I’m…. Well… I’m…”

“A princess, for one thing,” Amy supplied. “Which, by the way, is pretty much just the perfect foundation for a love story - I mean, a princess and a knight? Trust me when I say that people ate up stories like that with a spoon, back where I’m from.”

“Is that so?” I murmured, imagining it. A story, starring me and Bridgette. The two of us, side by side, going against the will of the world… I couldn’t help but let out a little sigh of contentment at the idea.

At least until Amy opened her mouth again.

“Of course, there’s the small matter of her being too dense to notice your feelings…”

“You don’t say.”

“But I bet we could fix that if we worked together!” Amy added, giving me a bright smile.

“I… together?” I asked, bewildered. “You… want to help me get together? With her?Me?”

“Yes? Is there a reason I wouldn’t?” Amy asked. “Bridgette’s a friend - of sorts, I suppose, for all that she spies upon me and pokes at me at every opportunity - and you’re… Well, not really anything to me, admittedly, but I’d like us to at least be friends. Especially if we’re to be living in close quarters together… Even more so if there’s a chance we’ll truly end up married - I mean, I’m sure you’d rather be married to Bridgette, but… Well, maybe you two could have some sort of secret bonding ceremony? Then at least someone in this relationship will be happy with how it all works out.”

“That’s…” I frowned. “Who did you say you were meeting here again?”

“Ah - Pauline?” Amy supplied, rubbing at the back of her head. “I know it’s weird, but-”

“It’s fine,” I replied, pulling up a chair and sitting myself next to her. “She can help too.”

“Help with what?”

“Why, with the perfect plan to capture Bridgette’s heart of course! I mean, as you said - at least one of us deserves to be happy, don’t you think?” And who knew? Perhaps I’d even be able to return the favor, one day, and get Amy together with a girl of her own.

She obviously wasn’t that bad, after all.

 

 

~~~
Author's Notes

 

 Not much to say on this one? This obviously won't lead to any form of convoluted plans or delayed communication, though! Nope. Not at all. (Seriously, tho, it won't be as bad as you might be thinking.)

If you're curious as to how all this goes, though, you can read five chapters ahead on my Patreon for as little as $1~! We're up to chapter 33. c:

I waved to Pauline the moment I saw her, rising up from my chair to ensure she’d see me. She did, too, raising her hand in turn and hurrying on over. As she got closer, however, a frown crossed her face. It wasn’t hard to guess why - she was looking right at Firanna.

“Sorry,” I explained, when she got close enough. “I know I probably should have asked before inviting Firanna, but it sort of just… happened? And I do think she deserves to know what’s happening with me and my stalker, in any case.”

I half expected the demon to appear just to protest the appellation, but once again they disproved my expectations. Perhaps they were busy with something, today?

“Right…” Pauline said, smiling at me. “Your stalker…”

“What’s this about a stalker? I thought we agreed to talk about Bridgette, not… whatever you’re going through.”

“I see no reason why we can’t do both,” I replied. “Though… did the king seriously not tell you? Even though we’re… you know…”

“Know what?” Pauline asked, looking between the two of us with a hint of concern in her eyes.

“Nothing you need to know about,” Firanna replied, before glaring at me. “And if you intend to reveal actual secrets then at least take some basic precautions before saying them in public.” 

Saying so, she pulled out a smooth, round stone. It was painted an icy blue, with a gryphon emblazoned on it. It looked rather fancy - and yet…

“Why is it always stones?” I asked. “Samestones, truthstones - what is this? A privacy stone?”

“A screen stone, actually,” Firanna replied. “And why wouldn’t we use stones? They’re common, sturdy, and easy to enchant.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” I conceded, “and yet I have to wonder - why not gems? Surely the royal family has plenty of those?”

Firanna laughed at that - a sharp and bitter laugh. Then she narrowed her eyes at me. “Tell me - what do you know about imprinted enchantments?”

“Are those the ones where you copy someone’s special ability onto a stone?” I asked. “Because if so, I know little - mostly just that it can be done, really.”

“There’s not really much more to it,” Firanna admitted. “And yet if you’re asking me why we use stones, you’ve obviously failed to put any thought into it.”

“That hardly seems fair,” Pauline protested. “It’s not like she grew up with this stuff.”

I shot Pauline a grateful look, but Firanna merely scoffed and shook her head.

“All the more reason for her to focus on learning. You’ve survived so far by staying to the outskirts, Amy, but a day will come when you’re forced to deal with the nobility, and when it comes I fear you don’t even know enough to realize when someone’s insulting you…”

“Insulting me?” I asked, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Enchanted items such as these aren’t exactly rare, but they are uncommon,” Firanna said, in lieu of explanation. “Generally speaking, when someone has an actually useful ability, they’re pressured into imprinting as many enchanted items as they possibly can in their lifetimes. It’s a limited commodity, after all - even if someone else is eventually born with a similar ability, it likely won’t work exactly the same way. Where one person may make a screen stone that stills the air, another might make use of illusions to cover up noise, or - like mine - create a mist that obscures vision and muffles voices.”

“That’s interesting,” I admitted, “but I don’t see what it has to do with insults…”

“I’m getting there,” Firanna assured me, rolling her eyes. “The point is that - despite their inherently limited nature - most enchanted items are actually mass produced, and only personalized after the fact. Getting one made custom from the start - using a gemstone, or some such… it’s not something money alone can secure, for the most part. It’s the sort of things kings present each other as gifts upon grand treaties, and the like, not the sort of thing you can simply walk into a shop and buy.”

“But surely the royal family must have some?” I asked her.

“They have plenty,” she replied. “Someone with a screening ability was born in this very country, after all, a mere seventy-ish years ago. And yet I, the illegitimate princess, had to be gifted one by my brother. A pretty one, of course - painted just to suit me - but a mass produced product, all the same.”

“…It was an insult,” I concluded, speaking softly.

“Just so,” Firanna confirmed, with a nod. “And it’s exactly that sort of subtle barb you’ll need to be on the lookout for, if you intend to… Well, you know…”

“Now who’s blurting out secrets?” I asked, unable to resist sticking my tongue out at her.

“You…” She stared at me, flabbergasted. “You really aren’t Amelia, are you?”

“Only figuring that out now?” I quipped, a little annoyed by how hard it was proving to get this particular fact through people’s heads.

“Um… About the screen stone,” Pauline said. “Shouldn’t you activate it?”

“Right…” Firanna murmured, blushing faintly, before placing a hand upon the stone. “This one’s a particularly troublesome model - it requires an active input of mana to function.”

“Is that uncommon?” I asked, even as mist began to seep from the stone.

“It is,” Firanna confirmed, frowning. Or at least I think she was frowning. Her face was lightly obscured, even sitting so close to her. “Most of the time enchantments only even work if they’re passive. There’s no way to direct them, or to turn them on and off, short of putting them in containers that block magic. It’s the main reason why Pauline hasn’t been pressured into making healing items…”

Pauline bobbed her head. “My healing is active - I guess? They told me it’s like a spell, where I have to will the mana to leave me…”

“So… What?” I asked. “You can make a healing stone, but the stone… wouldn’t heal anyone?”

“Pretty much,” she confirmed. “Stones can’t have a will, right? There’s no way for them to trigger an active ability.”

“Then… this ‘mist screen’ or whatever was… what? A passive aura, of some sort?”

“Yes,” Firanna confirmed. “From my understanding, the man was quite willing to create items - he preferred keeping his mana empty, because any time he had enough in his system this would spring up.”

“What about Bridgette’s ability, then?” I asked. “It has a passive element to it, at least.”

“It does,” Firanna confirmed, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. “But it’s rather useless as enchantments go… For one thing, the stone merely whispers what it hears, so softly that you’d have to keep the stone next to your ear at all times just to hear it. For another, it only goes off at random - entire minutes without a word, and then suddenly you’ll hear someone three doors down talking about how much they like cake. I’m of the opinion that Bridgette’s base ability must be connected to what she wants to hear, at least on some level, or else it’s a miracle that she ever hears anything usable ever.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing, though?” I said. “Since it means she has the freedom to pursue knighthood instead of being forced into making enchanted items all day…”

Was that the fate that awaited me? Being turned into some sort of magical stone making factory, every minute of my day spent enchanting stones?

“It would hardly be all day,” Firanna said, as if reading my thoughts. Though if she was, she was being rather dismissive of my fears so far as I was concerned. “It takes magic to imprint an enchantment - both from you, and from the actual enchanter who needs to imprint your ability. Generally speaking, one can only make a set number of stones a day before they need to rest and recover. At most, I’d say the average enchantment makers work perhaps… four hours, give or take a bit?”

“Well that’s something, at least,” I muttered. “I don’t suppose there’s weekends?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Firanna replied. “But if you’re quite done with questions, I’d like to get down to business.”

“Right!” Pauline said. “I um… I’d still like to hear about you - I mean, about what you’ve been through. You said something about a stalker?”

“I meant the business of getting me together with Bridgette!” Firanna protested.

“After, I promise!” I said. “But if you two are going to be spending time with me, I really think it’s for the best that you know the full story.”

Firanna made a sound of discontent, before making a gesture I couldn’t really interpret properly through the mist. She didn’t say anything else, though, so after a moment I assumed she meant for me to start talking.

“See, I’m not from this world, Firanna. I was brought here against my will, and stuffed into this body - by a demon.”

Pauline gasped.

Firanna did not.

“Do you think my father engaged me to you without mentioning that?” Firanna asked. “He might not win any father of the year rewards, so far as I’m concerned, but he at least cared enough to inform me of your situation.”

“Wait, engaged?” Pauline asked.

“Merely for political reasons,” Firanna said - and I swore I saw her smirking in Pauline’s direction through the mist, though I couldn’t imagine why. “Amy is free to date whoever she wants on the side. Just as I intend to date Bridgette.”

“You say that as if anyone would even want to date me,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “I mean, even putting aside the unpleasant associations with Amelia I bring to people’s minds, there’s still the fact that I’m a former guy - no straight girl is going to want to date me, looking like this, and I doubt there’s many lesbians who would be willing to settle for a man in a woman’s body either…”

“You were… a man?” Pauline asked, blinking.

“Father didn’t mention that,” Firanna confessed, pursing her lips. “Not that it matters much, in the end, I suppose. It’s not like we’re marrying for love, in any case, and you certainly look nice enough.”

“Thanks… I guess…” I muttered, a gloomy feeling settling upon my heart. I’d never really put my lack of romantic prospects into words before, but now that I had it honestly stung to think about.

“I mean… you’re… a girl now, aren’t you?” Pauline asked, sounding almost frantic.

“Well… yes,” I said. “I mean, I look like one, at least - and the average person certainly sees me as one, but…”

“If you want to go back to being a man, there are spells for it,” Firanna said.

“There are?” I asked, blinking. “But I thought… the beastkin?”

“Most people can’t afford spells like that,” Pauline said, softly, sounding almost reluctant. “And even if they can, they might not have connections to find someone who can cast the spell…”

“I suppose that’s true,” Firanna said, sounding thoughtful. “Though I don’t know what that has to do with beastkin.”

“They… to my understanding…”

“They can’t afford spells like that, so they have to change themselves in a different way,” Pauline said. “I… I don’t think it’s right, the way everyone judges them for it…”

“Really?” Firanna asked, before… I think shrugging? It really was hard to tell through the mist. “Well, whatever. The point is I’m sure we can make it happen if you really want. Assuming you can get me together with Bridgette, I’ll personally spearhead the mission to find someone.”

“That’s… I mean… I’d rather not put you out,” I muttered, my heart beating faster in… anticipation? Maybe? But then why did the thought hurt?

“It wouldn’t be any trouble at all,” Firanna promised. “I mean, I suppose it’s mildly detrimental to me, in that I’ll have to at least appear to be in love with a man, but other than that-”

“I mean, if it’s a problem - at all - we really don’t have to do it,” I supplied. “I don’t mind looking like a girl, at all. In fact, looking like a man might even mess me up a little. The demon said that I feel comfortable as a girl because Amelia was a girl, you see, so… I think looking like a guy might actually be… um… Uncomfortable for me?”

“Is that how it works?” Firanna inquired.

“But… if you look like a girl, and you want to keep looking like a girl, then… aren’t you one?” Pauline asked.

“I mean… I look like one, but I’m not really one,” I tried to explain. “Just because I wouldn’t be comfortable looking like a guy doesn’t really mean I’m suddenly a girl…”

“Does that mean you’d go back to being a guy if you could?” Pauline asked. “If it didn’t make you uncomfortable, I mean?”

“Well…” I hesitated. “I guess? I mean… if it was like before, it… I mean, I kind of like this body more to be honest, but it’s not like I minded my old one, and at least if I looked like that again I wouldn’t be lying to people by making them think I’m a woman when I’m not…”

“It would solve your problem with looking like Amelia, too,” Firanna pointed out.

“Yeah, I… I guess…” I admitted. “But it’s a moot point, right? Since I wouldn’t be comfortable in that body, anyway.”

“I suppose,” Firanna confirmed. “But we’re getting off topic in any case.”

“Right…” I murmured. “We were um… talking about… the fact that I’m from another world?”

“Oh, who cares about that,” Firanna grumbled. “I want to talk about Bridgette already!”

“Yeah,” I said, relieved to be moving on at last. “About that… Have you considered perhaps simply confessing your feelings over a romantic dinner?”

~~~

Author's Notes

This was, to be honest, something of a painful chapter. Mostly because Amy is denser than just about anything I can think of, and the whole, "Oh, I feel fine being a girl because Amelia was one" thing is not helping. (Damn demon accidentally gave her some industrial eggshell glue)

Oh well. I'm sure she'll figure it out eventually, right? Preferably before Pauline has an existential meltdown about what this means for her sexuality...

Probably going to work on some Naughty Magic next? So look forward to that if you're a fan of the series! (I finally finished a chapter of My Oni Love, too, which brings Patreon back up to 2 bonus chapters. When I get around to 9, I'll release chapter 7.)

Of course, if you wanna read those chapters a bit early - as well as two advanced chapters of Naughty Magic, and five chapters of My Own Villainess - do please consider joining my patreon, where you can read it all for as little as $1~! Both paid and free members also get access to my discord! (And I've been posting some free chapters of my fanfic, My Next Life as a Heroine - All Routes Lead to Het!? on my Patreon, too, for those interested!) 

PS: I still can't wait until I get to share chapter 32~! Gonna try to release chapters every two days until we get there, but we'll see how that goes.

“A romantic dinner?” Firanna parroted back at me, her lips twisting into a frown. “Is that truly the best you can come up with?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Pauline said, drawing the attention of both the princess and myself. “You’re trying to get Bridgette to date you, aren’t you? I know I’m not her closest friend, but I do think I know her well enough to say that she’d enjoy the forthright approach.”

“Who is Bridgette’s closest friend, anyway?” I asked, causing Firanna’s head to snap back towards me. “What? I know it’s not the point, but… I’ve never really thought of it before…”

“Before you came along, I would have said it was Prince Jethroo,” Pauline supplied, causing me to blink at her in surprise.

“It’s true - she and my brother have always been quite close… She’s the only one he ever lets get away with ‘disrespecting’ him - the only one allowed to tell him when he made a mistake. She was practically his personal bodyguard and confidante before you showed up.”

“Me?” It was true that Bridgette had been a core confidante of the prince in the books, but… “What do I have to do with anything?”

“He’s mad that she chose to protect you, of course,” Firanna replied, shaking her head. “Not that Bridgette seems to be that broken up about it… In truth, he’s been putting distance between them for quite a while, with his insistence upon acting ‘the proper prince’ in public. Not to mention disregarding her advice at every turn when it comes to leaving poor Pauline alone.”

“Poor Pauline?” I asked, turning to her. “What does she mean by that? You enjoy his attention, don’t you?”

“Well… I…” She glanced at Firanna. “I think we’re getting a bit off topic, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Firanna agreed. “This is meant to be about my romance with Bridgette, not my brother’s attempts to woo the commoner girl - no offense, Pauline.”

“None taken, Lady Firanna,” Pauline replied, with a tired looking smile. “But again, I really do think you should consider Amy’s suggestion…”

“Confessing my feelings over dinner?” Firanna asked. “Isn’t that a bit too… simple?”

“Not at all!” Pauline insisted. “The problem is that Bridgette doesn’t see you romantically, right? Because in that case, changing how she views you is the first step!”

“Exactly!” I agreed, glad for the backup. In truth, I hadn’t put that much thought into it - a dinner date had simply seemed like a good idea, in my mind. Still, putting thought into it now… “Perhaps you could even cook it yourself?”

“Me? Cook?” Firanna asked, looking puzzled.

“If you think it’s beneath you, or some such-”

“N-no! Not if it will help me win her heart… but… I don’t know how to cook…”

“I could try to teach you,” Pauline suggested. “Though I’m not sure my cooking skills would be up to snuff for someone of your rank…”

“I actually had someone else in mind,” I confessed. “Not that I distrust your cooking skills, Pauline, but… Well, when it comes to professionally cooking food even a noble would salivate over, there’s only one person who comes to mind for me.”

“And who would that be?” Firanna asked, arching an eyebrow.

To that, I could only smile wryly. After all, there was only one person in this world I could truly afford to call on for such things.

“And so you come to me?” I asked, studying the bastard princess before me. I could likely send her packing with just a few words. I’d already told Bridgette of Firanna’s feelings for her, after all - making it rather late to try and dramatically reveal such a thing over dinner. Rightly, I probably should have told her that… but why would I do that when I could turn this annoyance into a benefit for my Lady?

“Well, you have been cooking Lady Amelia’s meals since childhood - at least according to Amy?”

“Of course you would know about that,” I murmured, shaking my head. At the same time, I pulled something from my pocket - a small screenstone that stilled the air around us. Lady Amelia had bid me to carry it around, and to use it whenever making plans we didn’t want the knight to overhear. This technically counted. “Regardless, you’re correct. I know how to cook - and I do believe I can teach… I also know Bridgette’s favorite meal. Which is precisely why I’m going to recommend that you take a different course.”

“Her favorite meal?” Firanna asked, clearly hooked already. “Isn’t it boar?”

“Monster boar, to be precise,” I corrected her. “Properly prepared, monster meat is not only tender and delicious but absolutely packed with mana. It’s akin to a minor mana potion - not enough to help you my Lady, but enough to energize someone.”

“Monster meat?” Firanna murmured, frowning. “It’s not something I’ve had before - more a meat for borderland nobles, really. The sorts who are surrounded with more monsters than they know what to do with… but if it’s what Bridgette likes, I suppose I could buy some…”

“I thought you wanted to contribute to this, Lady Firanna?” I asked, careful to keep my tone even as I laid my trap.

“I would say footing the bill is certainly a contribution,” she replied, sounding just a touch uncertain of herself. “And you just said you want to do the cooking.”

“I did volunteer to cook,” I confirmed, “but as far as simply buying the ingredients go… Well, that would be no different than simply taking her to a fancy restaurant. Hardly befitting an expression of your proper feelings.”

“So what would you suggest?” she asked. I could hear the annoyance in her tone, but also something else. Impatience.

“Well, why not hunt the beast yourself?” I asked.

“Myself?” Firanna demanded. “You would have me do the work of an adventurer?”

“I would have you prove your love for Bridgette with a quest,” I countered. “The sort knights go on to prove affection for their ladies. A bit backwards in this case, I admit, but still - can you really call it less than fitting?”

“I…” she frowned, clearly considering it. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Well, I suppose you could join my Lady,” I suggested, my voice turning thoughtful. “She’s in need of beast cores, and was planning to go hunting soon in any case. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind parting with the meat, if you were to promise aid.”

“Hmph. She would be lucky to have me,” Firanna replied, putting her hands on her hips. “As one born with the blood of the royal family, I am of course a powerful magic user in my own right.”

“Of course,” I replied, internally rolling my eyes. As if my Lady’s magic wasn’t just as powerful. Still, she was still learning to wield her might, and was currently far from the power my true Mistress had once wielded. Firanna’s aid, therefore, might be the difference between a difficult battle and a simple takedown of a monster. “Still… it’s not as if she needs you…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Firanna demanded.

“Only that she could, by all rights, refuse you. Keep the meat for herself.”

“And why would she do that?” Firanna asked, clearly agitated. “You don’t mean to imply she intends to woo Bridgette for herself, do you?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed. “I merely mean that you’re not really her party member, or anything. She might want the meat to go to someone willing to partner with her permanently.”

“So what?” Firanna scoffed. “You’re suggesting I ally myself with her long-term? Promise to go on multiple adventures, in return for a one-time benefit?”

“It needn’t only be a one-time benefit,” I replied. “Why settle for one romantic dinner with Bridgette when you could have multiple?”

“That’s… but… wait a moment… isn’t Bridgette already working with Amy? As her party member?”

Drat. So she knew about that?

“All the more reason for you to join them,” I replied. “Unless you’d rather Bridgette and my Lady go alone, on harrowing adventures, slowly growing close to one another through life and death struggles? All. By. Themselves.”

“That! No! I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll… you don’t think I’ll be a third wheel, do you?”

“No, of course not,” I assured them. “Though, if you really want to avoid that…” I trailed off.

“What?” Firanna asked, leaning forward. “Tell me?”

“Well, it’s just… three people can be a bit awkward, but what about two sets of two? If you were to recruit another person… someone who perhaps could distract my Lady? Someone such as Pauline, who she can’t help but be conscious of…”

“Yes… Then she wouldn’t have nearly so much time to focus on Bridgete, would she?” Firanna murmured, narrowing her eyes.

“Just so,” I confirmed, a small smile touching my lips. “Not that my Lady could ever bring herself to ask Pauline. Too much history, you understand? But if you convinced her to volunteer I’m sure my Lady wouldn’t have it in her to resist…”

“So you just need me to incentivize Pauline?” Firanna asked, before letting out a soft laugh. “Easy. And here I thought you might actually demand something worrisome in return for your aid…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, bowing my head so that she couldn’t see my smile. It wouldn’t do if I let the bastard princess see how smug it was growing.

“Of course, for this first adventure you won’t want to bring Bridgette,” I added, almost as if it was an afterthought. “This is something you’re doing forher after all.”

“That’s right,” Firanna murmured.

“Which means you’ll probably need a fourth,” I added. “Someone who can identify herbs, perhaps? There’s some, magical and otherwise, that might do well when cooked into the meal. Not that any gatherer will really want to join a party that’s going to be using all the herbs for their own sakes - which means you might have to outright hire someone if you want them to come along on this… but I’m sure you have the funds for such a thing?”

“Of course,” Firanna promised, puffing up her chest. “Leave it to me - I’ll secure us the best team possible for collecting my beloved knight’s feast!”

“Perfect. I happen to know just who you can ask, too - a girl by the name of May. She’s quite obsessed with plants, according to what I’ve heard from the other servants - plants and alchemy. If she can keep what she finds in the future, she might even be willing to join you on future quests.”

“Right…” Firanna said, nodding happily - but then her brow furrowed. “Wait. Won’t that bring our total to five once Bridgette rejoins us?”

“Well, I don’t think it matters to you if she’s a fifth wheel,” I pointed out. “As long as Bridgette is yours and Pauline is distracting my Lady, what does it matter if there’s five people or four?”

What mattered was that my Lady would have the most powerful protector I could get her on this, her first hunting trip. Of course, that did mean leaving Bridgette out of things - but I was sure I could convince her to listen in for her name, in case they somehow ran into trouble, and once the first battle was out of the way my Lady would have both Bridgette and Firanna to keep her company on her adventures.

As for the May I mentioned… well, if Firanna could get her, that would honestly just be icing on the cake. Another source of income, and a direct supplier of spices for my cooking - not to mention the fact that she could help my Lady with alchemy. Though, according to my sources, she was a bit… eccentric…

Oh well. Surely it was nothing a literal princess like Firanna couldn’t handle?

~~~~

Author's Notes

Excited to be 30 chapters deep! ...I mean, with the prologue, we're really 31.... and if you count the quasi 23.5, it's more like 32? (Or maybe 31.5 would be more appropriate?) But still! Chapter 30!

Of course, if 30 chapters isn't enough for you, you could always join Patreon for as little as $1 and read up to chapter 35... Though fair warning - this will involve exposure to chapter 32. (You are not ready for chapter 32. I hope to release it soon anyway.)

Anyway, probably gonna work on Naughty Magic tomorrow/in the morning? We'll see how that goes. Hope to see you again soon for another update!

Author's Notes

MOV VOLUME ONE IS OFFICIALLY FINISHED ON Patreon. I'd like to say that I'm releasing 2 chapters in celebration of this, but it's actually the other way around - I wanted to release two chapters of MOV to the public, and so wrote two chapters for Patreon and in the process sorta kinda accidentally finished the volume.... BUT STILL. Two new chapters!

Enjoy

~~~

“And you’re sure Clara suggested I handle this?” I asked Firanna, hesitantly. We were currently standing outside a classroom - after school hours, of course. Though you’d likely be forgiven for thinking otherwise, considering the very loud noises currently coming out of the classroom. It sounded almost like a series of minor explosions.

“Well, you can’t expect me to handle all the preparations, can you?” Firanna replied. “I’m already securing us a healer, you know. I think that’s quite enough.”

“You still haven’t told me how you’re pulling that off, either,” I pointed out. “I hope you aren’t bothering to drag poor Pauline into this? I’m sure she’s seeing quite enough of me already, thanks to Professor Devulchas.”

“Is that what you think?” Firanna asked, arching an eyebrow. “That she’d rather see less of you?”

“Of course. It’s obvious, isn’t it? I mean, I’m literally in the body of her tormentor - it’s a miracle that she can stand the sight of me at all, let alone help me as much as she has already.”

“Has she told you that?” Firanna pressed.

“Well… No. But we both know she’s too kindhearted for such harsh words.”

“True enough, I suppose,” Firanna admitted, with an air of reluctance. “You can relax, either way - I won’t drag Pauline into anything she doesn’t want to be a part of.”

“That’s a relief,” I murmured, before frowning at the door in front of us again. “And this May - could you tell me what you know of her?”

“Only that she’s a student of alchemy with a penchant for raiding communal supplies. She’s used up so many ingredients that the school’s been forced to restrict her - something that has her quite infuriated.”

“So we’re planning on bribing her with the promise of keeping any herbs we find?” I asked. “At this rate, we won’t have anything to sell, in order to entice our healer…”

“I’ll make sure she gets paid,” Firanna promised, “so worry less about that and more on convincing May.”

“I still don’t understand why I have to be the one to talk to her. I’m hardly seen as a respectable figure around here - if anything, I think I’d be something of a deterrent.”

“Who knows? Maybe her eccentricity will even make her amenable to talking to someone like you,” Firanna said. “And besides - I’m on the student council, in case you’ve forgotten. The same council that alerted her to the new restrictions. If I go in there - why, she might even go so far as to throw something at me.”

“So you’re just giving up?” I asked, turning towards her.

“Exactly. Have fun!” Saying so, she turned on her heel and left, leaving me to stare at her backside for a moment before shaking my head and turning back towards the classroom.

“Great,” I murmured, grimacing. “Well… might as well get this over with…”

With that bright and cheery thought to lead the way, I reached out to grasp the classroom door’s handle - only to pause when I heard the sound of something shattering, followed by the loudest explosion yet.

“Or… maybe I should get a teacher?” I wondered aloud.

Alas, before I could make such thoughts a reality, the door was flung open with enough force to send me reeling back, as a small, hunched over figure came running out of the room, smoke trailing behind her.

“Close the door!” she croaked out.

“Um…”

“I said close it!” she repeated, gesturing at the door. “Now!”

“R-right,” I murmured, slamming the door shut - just in time for something to bang into the other side. “What…?”

“This is what happens when I have to work with inferior ingredients,” the girl murmured. “I told him there was a risk, but did he listen? No. He insisted I make it anyway, and then swallowed an entire day’s worth of doses in one go! All for the sake of some damn date with that light-loved girl.”

“Light-loved girl?” I asked. “You mean Pauline?”

“I don’t know - maybe? It sounds familiar enough. You’d think I’d know it, the way the Prince keeps rattling on about her, but honestly I blocked him out after the first five minutes…”

“The prince…?” I asked, as something banged upon the door again. “You mean… on the other side of that door, is…?”

“The prince,” May confirmed. “If you can still call him that…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, taking a step back as the door rattled again.

“It means what it means,” May said. “Thankfully, the thing on the other side of the door is too incoherent with rage to actually figure out how a door works. It’s not like it’s actually locked you know.”

“‘The thing’?” I asked. “You turned the prince into a thing?”

“Of course not!” May scoffed. “He did that to himself. I just supplied the potions that did it - potions that likely would have worked, inferior ingredients or no, if he hadn’t chugged them all in a row!”

“And now he’s…” The door rattled again. “Is he… um… going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry about that,” May said. “The side effects should be running out right about…. Now.”

Another bang.

“…Give or take a minute. Also, who are you and why are you here?”

“Me?” I asked, blinking. “I’m um… Amy.”

“Really?” May asked, frowning at me. “A nice, short, sensible name that I might actually be bothered to recall? Surely it’s short for something, is it not?”

“Uh… No, not really,” I replied, rubbing at the back of my head. “I mean, I guess it’s sort of short for ‘Amelia’ but I don’t really go by that, at all, so…”

“Amelia?” May asked, frowning. “That names sound familiar…”

“Yes, well, she - I - I mean… uh… did you perhaps hear about the duke’s daughter who didn’t get executed due to not being the duke’s daughter? Perhaps?”

“I don’t bother to keep up with current events. No, I remember that name, but… from somewhere else…”

“Somewhere else?” I asked, worried now. Was she perhaps one of Amelia’s victims? Someone she’d tortured? Someone who might have a grudge?

“Ah! I remember now! It was the name of my childhood bunny.”

“Your… childhood bunny?” I asked, blinking.

“Yes. She died when I was quite young - trying to bring back to life was actually how I first got involved in alchemy.”

“And you forgot her name?” I asked, incredulous.

“I told you I’m not good at names,” she reminded me. “And besides, Amelia was what my mother called her. I called her Bunny A.”

“Bunny… A? Did you have a Bunny B then?”

“No? Why would I?” she asked, frowning at me.

“That’s… I mean…”

“Also, I think the banging has ended,” May remarked. “We should probably check on what’s happened to the prince.”

“Right,” I muttered, glancing between the door and May. “Maybe you could do that while I go get a teacher? I don’t think Prince Jethroo would be all that happy to see me…”

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re not going to be in a state to see anyone,” May replied, marching past me to pull open the door.

Smoke billowed out, threatening to fill up the hallway for a moment.

“Are you… sure the side effects… wore off?” I managed to ask, between coughing fits. “Because I think… he might have just suffocated… from the smoke…”

“Little of column A, little of column B,” May replied cheerfully, nudging something on the ground with her foot. “Not half bad, though, if I do say so myself.”

“What are you… talking…?” I asked, only to trail off into silence as I saw the answer to my own question.

Laying on the floor was a girl - a busty girl, with long blonde hair, wearing clothes that were obviously too big for her.

“Why… is Prince Jethroo a… a…”

“Girl?” May asked. “For the sake of that lady of his, of course - or should I say hers? Apparently she’s into girls, or some such… Anyway, you were telling me your name, and why you’re here?”

“I… Um… Give me a moment,” I murmured, reeling from the shock. “Are you saying… that Pauline is into girls?”

“Assuming that wasn’t just an excuse to get rid of him? Yes, I suppose she is,” May confirmed. “Though that really doesn’t answer the question of why you’re here.”

“Pauline is into girls… and the prince… came to you to… to change him?”

“Of course,” May replied, puffing her chest out. “I happen to be one of the best alchemists around, you know?”

“But… why not a teacher?” I asked. “Or at least someone with access to better materials?”

“Well, because they wouldn’t have done it without the king’s approval, of course,” May replied.

“And you did?” I asked. “Aren’t you… you know… worried about that?”

“Not particularly. If he doesn’t like it, he can just make the girl go back, can’t he? And it worked anyway. Obviously.”

“Right…” I murmured, staring at Jethroo in a daze. “It… certainly did…”

“Now, again - why are you here?” May demanded, spinning to face me. “Other than just causing me trouble, I mean.”

“That’s… I… Um. I was sent to see if I could, perhaps, maybe recruit you into joining my adventuring party?”

“Your adventuring party?” the girl murmured, tapping at her chin. “That’s certainly an interesting suggestion. I suppose you were going to offer me first pick of any herbs gathered?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Though… from the way you’re speaking, I gather you’re uninterested?”

“Hm? Oh, no, I’m very interested,” the girl replied, smiling at me. “Especially if you’d be willing to go out of your way to pick up some particular herbs… Would I have to register as an adventurer?”

“I uh… they usually call themselves just Guild members, I think? But… yes? Maybe? I mean, if we want to be an official party at least…”

“Hmmm. Well, I suppose it would get me access to some of the guild’s info - once we increased our rank, at least… So I’m certainly willing. There’s just one minor little issue we should probably deal with first.”

“And what’s that?” I asked.

“Well, you see, it might just be my imagination, but… I think our sleeping princess has woken up. And from the looks of it, she’s not very happy…”

“I… uh…” I glanced down at Jethroo’s form, surprised to see that she’d opened her eyes at some point, and was… glaring at me?

“The good news is, there seem to be some lasting side effects!”

“That’s… good news?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Well, the paralysis should wear off soon enough,” May replied shrugging. “Though we might want to not be here when it does? I really do hate wasting time listening to lectures…”

“Should we maybe alert a teacher?” I suggested.

“Ooh, good idea! You do that. I’ll be off. Tata!”

“W-wait!” I called out, as May walked out the door. “You… um… we never discussed how I’m to find you later? To talk about the adventuring party some more?”

“Oh, that? I’ll come by over the weekend,” May promised. “You live in that villa at the edge of campus, yes? The one everyone avoids like the plague due to the bitch that lives there?”

“You… I thought you didn’t know who I was?”

“I didn’t,” May replied. “I don’t, in fact… but it’s not hard to put two and two together, miss Duke’s-daughter-but-not. That villa is traditionally saved for the children of the duke, after all - but, really, I must be off now.”

“Right…” I murmured. “To um… what are you doing exactly?”

“Why, I’m going to go brew some potions for the trip, of course!”

“With… inferior ingredients?” I asked, glancing at the still glaring Jethroo.

“Just be sure to follow my dosage instructions and you’ll be fine,” May replied. “Now for real - tata! See you later. Byyyyyye!”

“Yurgh…” mumbled Jethroo, clearly trying to get words out. If I wasn’t mistaken, I could see her hand starting to twitch too.

“I’ll um… go get you a teacher, alright? I’m sure they’ll have this fixed up in no time!”

Hopefully without any further intervention from me. I wasn’t exactly in the mood to deal with Jethroo right now, after all. Not when my head was absolutely swimming from the information that had been dumped on me…

I mean… Pauline liked girls?

~~~

Author's Notes

Good news! I've actually started to plot this series out in advance a bit!

Not this chapter, though. No, this one caught me by surprise at least as much as it will most of you... (Not that I didn't expect something like this to happen eventually but not now!)

Still, Plots! Plans! Ideas that'll hopefully carry the story into volumes 2 and maybe even 3 without me needing to take a long break to rethink things! Aren't you excited? Because I am!

Hope you enjoy~! (I'm about to post the long teased chapter 32, as well, but I'll still remind you that you can read up to chapter 37 - end of volume 1 - on Patreon for as little as $1!)

Author's Notes

This is a double update, so if you feel like you missed a chapter you probably have! Make sure you read Chapter 31 - Girls - before continuing!

PS: I finished volume 1 on Patreon~!

~~~

“Ah-ha!” a familiar voice called out. “I knew I’d find you here - my brother asked you to wait for him, again, didn’t he?”

“He often does,” I admitted, closing the textbook I’d been studying and smiling at the newcomer. “Not that I’m complaining, of course, Lady Firanna. It’s not like I have much else to do with my time right now.”

“Coming from anyone else, I’d think that was sarcasm,” Firanna remarked. “But you mean it, don’t you?”

“It’s really no bother,” I assured her. “And I’ve gotten used to it, in any case.”

“Is that so?” Firanna arched an eyebrow at me, before shaking her head. “Well, that’s between you and my brother anyway, I suppose - I’m here to talk to you about something else.”

“Something else?” I asked, confused. “Could it be… someone needs healing?” Firanna and I weren’t exactly close. I’d met with her plenty of times, but we’d never spent much time with one another one-on-one before. Other than my healing talents, I couldn’t imagine a reason why she’d come to me.

“Not yet,” Firanna said, confusing me further. “But I’m sure someone will before long - and there’s a good chance it’ll be Amy, at that.”

“Is there something the matter with her?” I asked, instantly on alert. “Is she in trouble? Is it Prince Jethroo?”

“No to the last two,” Firanna told me, “but as for the first… Well, there’s nothing I can pinpoint, but I find it hard to say that there’s nothing wrong with a girl who acts like she does.”

I laughed, despite myself. “She is a bit odd, isn’t she? With her tentacles and everything…”

“Not to mention all the mannerisms she inherited from Amelia,” Firanna remarked. “That emotionless mask she puts on, occasionally, for one thing. And the way she walks, and sits, and even eats - all picture perfect etiquette. Until she opens her mouth and says something utterly ridiculous, at least…”

“She can be a bit silly,” I admitted, my mind momentarily conjuring her image.

“Ah, so you can smile like that, after all,” Firanna remarked.

“H-huh?” I asked, blinking at her in confusion.

“The smile on your face, when you thought of her - it’s a lot different than the smile you used to greet me earlier. Not to mention the one you wear when talking about my brother.”

“That’s…” I hesitated. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?” Firanna asked, arching an eyebrow at me. “Then let me put it plainly - you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“I… I wouldn’t call it love,” I murmured, not quite able to meet Firanna’s eyes. “A crush, perhaps…”

“My brother never stood a chance, did he?” Firanna asked, sounding mildly amused.

“I…. I mean… I do like girls,” I admitted, speaking softly. “I think so, at least…”

“You’re not sure?” Firanna asked, frowning.

“Well… I’m fairly sure… I’ve only ever had a crush once before, though - and that was a girl, too, but… Well, I thought maybe it was just a one-off thing? I mean, I think there are boys that are pretty enough, but… I’ve just never been able to imagine myself with any of them, the way I can with… with Amy.”

“Have you told Henry yet?” Firanna asked.

I nodded. “Now that I’m more sure… I… I told him, yes.”

“And how did he take it?” Firanna asked.

“Not well,” I confessed, miserably. “He stared at me for a while, opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything, and then just… stormed out of the room. Mouth still open. I haven’t seen him since - he sent an attendant to give me the message to meet him here, as usual.”

“Odd,” Firanna said. “I would have expected more yelling… but nevermind that. I’m not really here to talk about him anyway - I’m much more interested in you and your feelings for Amy.”

“My… feelings?”

“Yes, your feelings for Amy. Would I be right to assume there’s a certain amount of… protectiveness mixed in there?”

“Well, I don’t want her to be hurt, if that’s what you mean?” I admitted, a little confused.

“Exactly! And if she was hurt, you’d want to be able to patch her together again, wouldn’t you?”

“Is this… does this have something to do with her plan to hunt monsters?” I asked.

“So you know about that, do you? That makes it easier - I want you to join our party, as a healer.”

“Well, I was there when Professor Devulchas reco… Wait. What do you mean ‘our’ party?”

“Well, I’m joining too, of course,” Firanna said. “It wouldn’t do if I let my fiancee get herself killed while I sat at home doing nothing. And besides, we’re using our first hunt to secure the ingredients for that romantic dinner we discussed.”

“Right, the one for you and… and Bridgette? But you’re engaged to Amy, aren’t you?”

“Only on paper,” Firanna said. “It’s not even official yet - and even if it does happen, it’s not as if I’m expected to remain faithful. Not when it’s just a marriage of convenience. Just as I wouldn’t mind if Amy found herself someone to love on the side. If anything, I’d appreciate it if someone took that role upon themselves. No reason we can’t both be happy with our marriage, such as it is.”

“So… you’re saying that you wouldn’t mind me dating Amy? Even after you’re married to her?”

“I’d expect you to be at least a bit discreet about it,” Firanna said. “Not that it matters if people find out, but the attempt to remain discreet means something in polite society.”

“I… I see…” I murmured. Did I… want that? Did I want to be with someone I couldn’t openly and honestly be with? I… wasn’t sure. It felt like the answer should be no, but when I thought of Amy…

“It’s not as if you have to make any permanent decisions about your future right now,” Firanna assured me. “Though I suppose the decision would be made for you if Amy died on this hunt, so there is that.”

“When did the plan become hunting something, anyhow?” I asked. “I thought you were just going to cook a normal dinner?”

“Clara convinced me it would be for the best if I let her handle the cooking. I’m contributing by helping to hunt the meat - and by paying for our healer’s services. Assuming the best healer I know is actually willing?”

“That’s… I mean, I… I should probably ask how much you’re paying, shouldn’t I?” Really, I was more speaking to myself than her, there. Because a big part of me just wanted to agree, right off the top.

“How about… three stags?” Firanna suggested. “Or no - five? Ten? I’m afraid I don’t know what a healer is actually worth.”

“Three will be fine,” I said, feeling a bit faint at the idea of Firanna casually tossing me a small fortune. “I-”

“Pauline!” a… somewhat familiar voice called out. It sounded bit like Firanna’s, actually? Which was fitting, since the girl who shouted my name bore something of a resemblance to her as well. They both had the same blonde hair, for example - but where Firanna’s eyes were an icy blue, this girl’s was a fierce red that reminded me of Prince Jethroo’s. 

“Is this… a sibling of yours?” I asked, my voice pitched low as I shot a furtive look at the girl.

“Not one I recognize,” Firanna replied, her own voice low. Then she spoke louder. “Who are you?”

“Firanna?” the girl asked, if only now noticing she was here. “You’re here as well, then? Annoying - though I suppose it means I won’t have to introduce myself to you separately, at least.”

“What-”

“It’s me you nitwit,” the girl interrupted. “Henry. Or… well, I suppose I’ll need a new name for this form, won’t I? Henrietta, perhaps? Or is that too derivative? I don’t want to be like little miss Amy, shortening her own name and calling it a new one. Though this would be lengthening it… It’s also what mother said they were considering for me, if I’d been born a girl… Though, that said, I’ve always personally been more partial to the name Daphne, myself… Something for me to consider later, I suppose? Perhaps you could even help me choose, Pauline - it would be a nice couple-bonding activity, don’t you think?”

“I… you… that is… Henry?” I squeaked out.

“Not Henry, I’ve decided that much. Which means no Henrietta, I suppose, since then people could just argue that ‘Henry’ is a nickname of some sort. So Daphne it is, I suppose?”

“I… you… Daphne?”

“Yes?” she asked, smiling at me.

“You’re… you’re a… a girl…” I whispered, flabbergasted.

“I am,” she confirmed, twirling a little in place as if to show me. It was only then I realized that she was wearing a skirt.

A skirt.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing a skirt,” Firanna said - causing my hands to leap up to my mouth, as for a moment I was sure the words had left my lips instead. “A plaid skirt.”

“It was the only thing that fit me in the lost and found,” she said, frowning. “And my pants were much too loose after the change. And what’s so funny about it, anyway?”

“Well, it’s just… I mean, it’s you,” Firanna said. “You’ve literally told me you were happy dresses were for girls, just so that you wouldn’t have to deal with them - and you refused my attempts to dress you up in girl’s clothes how many times?”

“Because girl’s clothes are for girls - which I now am, in case you missed the memo? They wouldn’t have looked right on me before. Now they do.”

“Because you’re a girl?” Firanna asked. “Please. We both know you only transformed yourself because Pauline prefers them.”

“Of course I did,” she huffed. “Why else would I transform myself? I was already perfect before.”

“And now?” Firanna asked. “Now that you’ve given up all that ‘perfection’ and taken on a weak-looking female form? How do you feel now?”

“Well, the loss of muscle mass is a little annoying,” Daphne admitted, “but I don’t think it would have looked as good on me as a girl, anyway - and who’s to say that I’ve given up any perfection anyway, hmm? I’d call this a perfectly lateral move, if anything.”

“A lateral move?” I managed to squeak out.

“Of course. I was perfect as a man, and now I’m perfect as a girl - the perfect girl, if you would. Your perfect girl.”

“I… that’s…” I felt like my brain was overheating.

Prince Jethroo was a girl.

Princess Jethroo had changed her name to Daphne.

Princess Daphne was gorgeous.

…But she was also still Jethroo. Someone who’s interest in me had always seemingly boiled down to how much they wanted to be by my side, without any real care for how I felt about them being there. Someone who pretended to be interested in what I did, only so that they could spend time being around me. Who didn’t seem to actually care about helping people, or being there for others. Someone so possessive that they not only protected me from bullies but also kept me from making any proper friends.

She was also really, really hot, though… Especially in that white button up shirt that seemed to be straining against her chest… But… but that wasn’t enough to sway me!

“I’m sorry, Princess Jethroo,” I whispered. “But if you did this for me, then you should turn back. I’m not… I’m not interested in you…”

“Not interested in me?” Princess Jethroo asked, frowning. “But I did what you wanted, didn’t I? I fixed the thing that was keeping us apart.”

“It’s not… just that… I… I’m just not interested in you, like that, I’m afraid… I. I wouldn’t mind being friends, though?”

“Friends?” she asked. “Friends… Girl friends?”

“Well, I mean, I guess you’d be a friend that’s a girl if you stayed like this? But-”

“Girl friends to girlfriends,” Jethroo murmured, a smile on her lips. “If that’s the path I must take, then so be it!”

“I… what?”

“I won’t turn back! Not while I still stand a chance of securing your heart!”

“I… That’s…” I shot a helpless look to Firanna.

She laughed.

“By the way,” Princess Jethroo added, “have you ever noticed that skirts go spinny when you twirl?”

~~~

Author's Notes

 

PS: As mentioned above, I've officially finished MOV volume 1 on Patreon! And you can read it all for as little as $1~!

“So now you’re saying I shouldn’t ask Firanna about her feelings?” I demanded, glaring at the maid who’d dragged me to the kitchen for a private conversation. “You’re the one who made me realize she has a crush on me to begin with!”

“Are you truly in such a rush to break her heart?” Clara asked, staring at me cooly.

“Well… No, not really, but the sooner we get this over with the better!”

“Even if it hurts her more in the end?” Clara pressed.

“That’s…” I hesitated. As a knight in training, I was supposed to be honest and brave, to protect people - but if being honest would hurt my friend, then maybe it would be better to wait… Still. “I can’t just let her live the rest of her life crushing on someone who has no interest in her!”

“And I’m not asking you to,” Clara replied. “I’m just asking you to wait long enough for her to share her feelings of her own accord.”

“She’s had over a decade to do that,” I pointed out. “Why do you think she’ll suddenly figure it out now?”

“Because my Lady has talked her into it,” Clara replied.

“Amy has?” I asked, blinking.

“Correct. She has convinced Firanna to tell you her feelings over a romantic dinner. A one-on-one dinner, in which she will make her best effort to convince you to see her in a different light. Don’t you think she deserves that chance? The opportunity to see her crush through to the end?”

“That’s… She’s just going to be going to a bunch of trouble to get her heart broken!”

“Perhaps,” Clara replied. “Likely, even, if you know your own heart as well as you seem to think - but still. If her heart is to be broken either way, at least let her make the attempt. Let her express herself and find closure, rather than simply shutting her down before she can even get a word out.”

“I… ugh.” I let out a groan, wishing there was a chair I could collapse into. I needed time to think, and for a moment I considered shifting into fast-mode just to buy myself some time - but there’d be a breeze, and Clara being Clara she’d probably figure out what I’d done. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing? It wasn’t like I was ashamed of needing to think? I just… “Ugh. Fine! Fine. I’ll hold off, alright? But if there’s any sort of delay to this dinner, I can’t promise I’ll keep my mouth shut!”

“Of course,” Clara said, smiling at me. “Now, about the matter of the hunt itself…”

“The hunt? What does a romantic dinner have to do with a hunt!?”

“I took the liberty of telling them that your favorite meal is monster boar,” Clara replied, matter-of-factly.

“How did you even know that!?”

“Lady Amelia kept tabs upon all her fiancee’s acquaintances,” Clara informed me. “And as her personal maid, I of course handled the actual discourse with her spy network.”

“You mean she treated you as a cat’s paw,” I replied, frowning. “If you’d ever been discovered, she would have told everyone that you were working on your own.”

“Of course,” Clara said. “I would think that was obvious.”

“And that doesn’t bother you!?”

“Why should it? I would have gladly given my life a hundred times over for Lady Amelia - I actually wanted to take the fall for trying to poison Miss Pauline, you know? But alas, the evidence was too iron clad. I would have likely ended up imprisoned as an accomplice, without taking any of the blame off of my mistress…”

“You’re insane. Why would you want to give your life for someone as horrid as her?”

“As opposed to someone as nice as Prince Jethroo?” Clara asked in return, arching an eyebrow.

“Henry is… I mean, he’s got some problems he needs to work on, but he’s usually willing to listen to reason! It’s just when it turns to matters of Pauline or Amelia that he gets a little… blockheaded.”

“He listens to you, you mean. He allows you to tell him when you think he’s wrong, and even sometimes acts upon it, and so you’ve convinced yourself that there’s actual good in him rather than just a desire to look good. But none of that is worth talking about, in my opinion.”

“Like hell it isn’t! We’re talking about my friend!”

“We’re talking about the prince you serve - or used to serve, at least. It seems to me that you’ve been focused more on the bidding of the king of late - not to mention your attempts to appease the whims of my Lady.”

“He’s not… I mean, we’re friends. We just… disagree fundamentally on a few things that have kept us from talking lately…”

“If you say so,” Clara replied, shrugging. “But really, I must insist that we return to our original discussion - about the hunt.”

“The hunt for a monster boar?” I asked, putting the pieces together. “You’re sending them out to hunt a monster for this dinner?”

“Lady Firanna will be more than up to the task, in all likelihood. And even if she isn’t, I have her recruiting Pauline for healing. Add in that potion the demon gave my Lady, and she should be in no danger.”

“Ah…” I grimaced. “I uh… about that potion… I might have um… handed it over to the king?”

“…You what?” Clara demanded, narrowing her eyes at me.

“It’s a pitch-black demonic concoction that did who knows what to Amy the last time she drank it!”

“It kept her alive long enough to be healed, is what it did!” Clara snarled back.

“Well, yeah, but what if it did something else we don’t even know about? It needs to be studied. Tested. We don’t even know what’s in it and you want to feed it to Amy? Even if you don’t care about her you’re still treating it like Amelia’s body, aren’t you?”

“That’s… I suppose you make a valid point,” she begrudgingly admitted. “Still, the security measures I’ve arranged should be enough… And if they aren’t, you could always arrive in the knick of time to save the day as her knight in shining armor.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘arrive’?” I asked. “You can’t possibly be saying that I should stay behind?”

“Of course!” Clara replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t hunt your own romantic dinner - it would ruin the whole point.”

“The point being for Firanna to tell me something I already know?”

“We’ve already discussed how important this is to Firanna,” Clara replied. “Do you really want to rehash the argument, just because you’re worried about Amy hunting without you?”

“That’s… I’m not… I mean, yeah, I’m a little worried, I guess, but…”’

“But nothing,” Clara said. “You can listen in from a distance, can’t you? At the speeds you travel, there shouldn’t be any trouble with you dashing in to the rescue at a moment’s notice.”

“I guess not,” I agreed, begrudgingly. “But what about me telling Amy that I sort of-”

I snapped my mouth shut at the sound of the kitchen door opening, an oblivious Amy waltzing in.

“There you two are!” she said, a bright smile on her lips. “You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

“Is that so, my Lady?” Clara asked, shooting me a meaningful look.

I sighed, but ultimately nodded - I’d follow along with Clara’s plan. Telling Amy how I felt about her could at least wait until I’d given Firanna a chance at closure, after all. I mean, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to get together with her - not when she was engaged to Firanna. I just needed closure of my own, I guess.

But it could wait a little while longer.

“Yes,” Amy said, completely oblivious to the thoughts rushing through my brain. “After our little tiff this morning, I got a bit lost and ran into Pauline - and then later Firanna came up, and… and… Well, apparently Pauline told Prince Jethroo that she likes girls - still don’t know what that’s about - but she must have been very convincing, at the very least, because last time I saw Jethroo she was-”

“She?” I interrupted.

“Perhaps you better start from the beginning?” Clara suggested.

“Right, well, to start with, I’m still a little angry about how you two treated me this morning,” Amy confessed, “but I suppose stress really did add to my reaction at the time… I mean, I stumbled out there without any idea where I was going, and before long…”

I nodded along, listening with rapt attention. Or at least trying to.

Was it my fault I kept getting distracted by how cute Amy looked when she got all excited?

 

 

The rest of the schoolweek passed by at a dull trudge - though it wasn’t without its highlights. Firanna came home to express that she’d met with her ‘sister,’ for example, only to find out that I’d already told everyone.

Thankfully, she seemed to find the matter more amusing than anything - especially once she found out that the princess had been temporarily enraged and then paralyzed by the concoction of a student alchemist.

As for how the rest of the school took the news… Well, I didn’t share any classes with the princess, and I wasn’t exactly keyed into the local gossip, so most of what I knew still came from Firanna. She was more than pleased to report that Jethroo’s new looks had caused waves amongst the student body, and that she’d already been forced to deal with a few of the braver boys attempting to woo her. More for political gain than anything, according to Firanna, but the obvious discomfort on the princess’s face as she was forced to politely turn them down was apparently quite a sight to see.

Unfortunately the king had already left for the capital, and was not on hand to deal with any of this - though I wasn’t entirely sure what there was to deal with. Jethroo wasn’t like me, after all - she hadn’t been shoved into a body that was already female, but had instead changed her own form. She was doubtlessly dealing with all sorts of dysphoria and regret - in fact, I wasn’t even sure it was right to call her ‘her’ at all - though apparently that was what she was going by, so I’d stick to it until told otherwise.

Still, I was sure the king would eventually return to talk sense into his child. Changing forms for the sake of chasing a woman… for someone who wasn’t trans - or stuffed into a cis female body like I’d been - it could only end in disaster.

Regardless, it wasn’t really my business. Of much more importance to me was preparing for the upcoming trip - though, really, I fell a bit short, there. There just wasn’t much for me to do now that I’d recruited May. Firanna had the healer situationship well in hand, according to her, and she’d repeatedly promised not to draw Pauline into anything against her will. May was already recruited as our alchemist. We’d probably need to stop by the guild in order to find a quest, at some point, but Bridgette advised me that it was best to wait until we were actually ready for the hunt, so that there’d be less chance of our information being out of date by the time we were prepared.

Mostly, I just ended up focusing my schoolwork - though there was one other thing on my mind: the last subspell for my tentacles. I’d been stuck for a while, torn between something that would let me stick, and something that would add strength. As it was, the only reason I could even lift a child of Bean’s size was that she’d used a spell to lighten her weight. Specifically by making herself as light as one of her bubbles.

I could conjure suckers on the tentacles, in much the same way I could do eyes - but just as I couldn’t see through those eyes, I couldn’t seem to stick to anything with the suckers. It just wasn’t part of what the base spell was designed to do.

Honestly, I was about ready to tear my hair off over the matter - but then, the night before we were to leave, I finally found my solution. It was so simple, in fact, that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t gotten it before! If I was torn between stickiness and strength, then I simply needed an image that would represent both in my mind.

The answer was practically right in front of me - in fact, I was literally staring at a line of it on the ground when it came to me: if I wanted both, then why didn’t I just draw an ant?

 

~~~

Author's Notes

 

This is another chapter I didn't entirely plan on, though - I was gonna just imply that some form of conversation happened, but with how excited people were over Actual Communication in chapter 27 I felt the need to address it getting delayed a bit.

Also, wanna give a quick shoutout to my friend Sammy for suggesting an ant for strength - it sorta snowballed from there (and another patron even added some suggestions after reading this chapter) so look forward to more talk of it in chapter 34 - It Cisn't

Of course, if you're in a hurry to read, you can always read 5 chapters ahead on my Patreon for as little as $1~! You'll also get two advanced chapters for most of my other works, including Hatching a Heroine, My Oni Love and Naughty Magic!

PS: I changed the title of this chapter on some sites. It was originally “Cancelled Dinner Plans” but then this one hit me…

Amy

“Ants?” Clara asked, arching an eyebrow at me. “I suppose I can see where you get the stickiness from - I’ve certainly seen them climb what I’d swear were sheer surfaces - but strength?”

“They can actually lift a huge amount, comparable to their body weight!” I explained, excitedly. “Not only that, but did you know that ants can produce a natural sort of anti-freeze that keeps their blood from cooling? Which… probably doesn’t matter much, I suppose - I don’t think the coolant I can release actually has much of an effect on the tentacles, to begin with? But it’s still sort of thematic, don’t you think? And - even better - there’s something called a ‘honeypot ant’ which can store large amounts of honey in its body to act as a sort of living pantry! If I work that into the mental image, I might be able to use it to store more mana in my tentacles!”

“Haven’t you said before that using your subspells creates an additional drain?” Clara pointed out.

“Well… Yes. The only one that really pays for itself is the sponge one, which helps me keep the tentacles up longer - so I suppose I might lose more energy than I could store, if I tried to keep the ant subspell on all the time… but still! I’m sure there’s a use for it. Like… like storing excess mana from mana potions! Or maybe feeding someone mana? I don’t know…”

“And where did you even learn so much about ants, anyway?” Clara asked. “I’ve never heard any of this before.”

“I did attend schooling in my old world, you know?” I said, feeling a little defensive. “Though, if you must know, I had ant-enthusiast among my fans - they posted a ton of comments when I wrote about that time Pauline came face to face with monstrous ants during one of her vacations, and… Well, I suppose some of what they wrote stuck with me.” 

It had honestly been a bit boring to read through at the time - but… well, I couldn’t just not read comments.

“I… See…” Clara replied. “Well, I suppose all that matters in the end is whether the mental image truly makes sense for you… though I’d recommend talking the subspell over with your professor - you’re trying to stuff an awful lot of features into a singular subspell, and I’ve honestly got no idea how it all works.”

“I’m not convinced even she knows how anything I do will work out until after I’ve done it,” I admitted, shaking my head. “But I’ll try to talk to her, anyway.”

Clara opened her mouth to respond, only to close it and turn towards the front door. “They’re here.”

I all but ran towards the door, eager to throw it open and greet my party members - and yet Clara still beat me to it, stepping out of thin air to grasp the door’s knob and pull it open before I could.

“A maid must always be there to open a door for her lady,” Clara reminded me. “At least within her own home.”

I opened my mouth to retort - only to fall silent myself as I saw just who had arrived. I had expected it to be Firanna and a healer, rather than May - since Clara had said ‘they’ and all - and I wasn’t mistaken in that regard. But the healer she’d brought…

“Pauline!?”

“Is that a problem?” Firanna asked, before Pauline could even open her mouth to reply.

“That’s… I mean-”

“She is the best healer we could ask for, is she not?” Firanna pressed.

“I mean, of course she is, but… but… you promised me that you-”

“Wouldn’t drag her into anything against her will?” Firanna finished for me. “Does she look unwilling to be here?”

“That’s…” I hesitated, a moment, taking in Pauline’s appearance. She was wearing simple britches, rather than one of the skirts I was accustomed to seeing her in. She wore a simple brown shirt, the sort of thing that wouldn’t show stains. Overall, she looked more prepared for adventure than even I did. “But… Surely, you don’t want to be here Pauline? I mean, I don’t know what she offered you, but it can’t possibly be worth having to deal with me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pauline asked, sounding almost affronted for some reason.

“Well… I know it can’t be comfortable dealing with someone in the body of your tormentor,” I confessed, careful to keep my voice and tone neutral. If I allowed any of the hurt and sadness I felt at the idea to leak through, then I’d surely make her feel guilty. It was bad enough that circumstances kept pushing us together, without me making things worse by forcing her to feel bad for someone she had every reason to avoid.

“I mean, yes, it can be a bit uncomfortable sometimes,” she confessed - something that might have caused me to flinch if I hadn’t inherited Amelia’s self-control - “but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy spending time with you. I… kind of like it, actually…”

“You do?” I asked, blinking. “But… but surely it will cause trouble between you and Princess Jethroo? You know how she feels about me.

“I do,” she confirmed. “But I’m not going to let her feelings on the matter control me. I’m not even dating her in the first place!”

“You… aren’t?” I asked, blinking. “Does this… have something to do with why you told her you like girls? I assume it was some sort of joke, but-”

“It’s not a joke,” Pauline interrupted. “It’s how I really feel - and it’s only thanks to you that I finally gathered up the courage to express it.”

“Me?” I asked, pointing at myself. “I… Huh?”

“Well, in a way, at least,” Pauline said, blushing a little. “Honestly, I’ve always known I prefer girls - or at least that I didn’t like guys? Even my first crush was the girl next door… It broke my heart when she married a man, to be honest - but that’s just how things are back home. You grow up, and you get married, and it has to be to a man, because otherwise what use are you? Dating another girl won’t result in any dowry, and even my parents were willing to accept that they still expect me to carry on the family line… All my life, I thought it was better to just keep quiet and meet their expectations, but then you - you got engaged to Firanna, and if a literal princess can marry a girl, then… Well, it made me think… I’m here, at this school, learning to be the best healer I can be. The sort of healer most nobles would feel lucky to have on their retainers - and if I can gain that sort of status, then… then who cares who I fall in love with? Not the nobles themselves, clearly.”

“But… but you and Jethroo…” I said, confused. “Your romance was the crux of the story I told! And - and she’s a girl now, anyway, isn’t she? Or at least she looks like one!”

“I don’t care,” Pauline said, shaking her head - though the blush on her cheeks kind of confirmed that she did, even without my lie detector going off. “I don’t love her. Lately I’m not even sure I like her…”

“Ah-hem,” Firanna intruded. “Could you perhaps not discuss your romantic troubles with my sibling right in front of me? You just know she’s going to hound me for every detail of our time together, after all this, and I’d rather not be the one to break her heart.”

“I’m not sure you could break it if you tried,” Pauline said, with a sigh. “She seems determined to keep chasing after me…”

“Enough so that she chose to look like a girl,” I confirmed, letting out a sigh of my own. “I didn’t even know you could do that with potions. I swear, this world drifts further and further from the world I thought I was writing about with every new bit of info I learn.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Pauline asked, clasping her hands together. “I think the world would be pretty boring if you knew everything about it already, don’t you?”

“I suppose… I just… you really don’t like Jethroo?”

“I don’t,” Pauline confirmed. “If anything, I… I think I might like-”

“Enough!” Firanna interrupted again, clapping her hands together. “You two can discuss this on your own time, hmm? Right now I need Amy and you focused on the trip ahead.”

“R-right,” Pauline said, blushing a little. “Well, I’m ready if you are?”

“I believe we’re still waiting on someone,” Clara said, speaking up for the first time in a while - and causing me to jump a little in surprise, as she did so. In all honesty, I’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Is someone else joining us?” Pauline asked.

I nodded. “Her name’s May - she’s an alchemist. The uh… same alchemist who helped Jethroo make herself look like a girl…”

“Why do you keep phrasing it like that?” Firanna asked. “She is a girl, is she not? Unless you know something I don’t.”

“Well… anatomically, I guess she’s sort of one? But… it’s not like she actually is one, right? She’s like me - a guy, inside a girl’s body. Only without the whole ‘preconfigured cis settings’ thing to make her comfortable.”

“She certainly seemed comfortable to me,” Firanna remarked.

Pauline nodded. “I think she sort of liked it?”

“Really?” I asked. “But… she never expressed any discomfort being a guy, did she?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Firanna confirmed. “But I hardly see why that matters - if she looks like a girl, acts like a girl, and wants to be a girl then why wouldn’t she be one?”

“Well, that’s… I mean, you can’t just change like that!” Could you? “I mean, it’s one thing if you wanted to be a girl all along - back home we had a concept called ‘transgender’ for people who felt like they were born in the wrong bodies - but… but they were always in the wrong bodies, they didn’t just suddenly decide one day!”

“That's your world,” Firanna retorted. “Perhaps things work differently here.”

“But… I mean, I look like a girl, and act like a girl, and I certainly don’t mind being a girl, but… I’m still a guy, aren’t I?”

“It sounds to me like you aren’t entirely sure of that yourself,” Firanna remarked, with a chuckle. “But enough of this - I see May coming now.”

“But… but I’m not… I mean, it’s not like I want to be a girl or anything - I just… I just am one right now. Or rather I look like one? And I’m in the body of one, and…”

“Do you want to be a guy?” Pauline asked.

“Nobody wants to be a guy! It’s just the body I was born in!”

“Do you want to go back to being one, then?” Pauline pressed. “If May could make a potion for Princess Jethroo, I’m sure she can make one for you too.”

“That’s… I mean… I’m in Amelia’s body, and Amelia was a girl, so… I wouldn’t be comfortable as a guy, anymore…”

“Then… maybe you should try just being a girl for a while?” Pauline suggested.

“You can’t just… I mean, I’m-”

“Let us examine the facts, my Lady,” Clara interjected. “You are in the body of a girl. A ‘cis’ girl, according to that demon and you - whatever that means. You also have no desire to return to being a man. And - unless I’m very much mistaken - you enjoy being your current self. Am I wrong?”

“That’s… I mean… it’s only because of the body I’m in…”

“So what?” Clara asked. “If you ever return to your old body, you can be a guy again. But until then, I would say you’re very much a girl.”

“That’s… I mean, you can’t just… I can’t just… I’m not trans, so… and I mean, cis just means you aren’t trans so… I’m just a cis…”

“Girl?” Pauline finished for me.

That… couldn’t be right… Could it?

 

 

~~~

Author'sNotes

 

This is another case of "I didn't think this scene would take the whole chapter" - I thought there'd be a bit of a conversation about ants, and then they'd be out the door to the guild! But then more ideas came to me, and more ideas, and by the end it just became a chapter in and of itself...

We'll be getting to the guild next time, though, so I'll be seeing you Tuesday (with luck) for Chapter 35 - One Rack Please

(Of course, you could always read five chapters ahead for as little as $1 if you were willing to join my Patreon... paid and free members alike get access to the discord, as well! That's where I post Lizard Pics.)

PS: I've fallen behind on posting here again... Will try to catch you up over the next few days

Eventually, with Firanna’s encouragement, we moved on from the uncomfortable subject of my gender, and onto more pressing concerns - like how best to put our skills to use in the upcoming hunt.

“I’m essentially useless for combat,” May told us, as the carriage rumbled along towards the town. “I want you all to be aware of that, and not to take offense when I scream and duck behind you for cover. Which I will be doing at the first sign of a monster.”

“Well, you’re certainly blunt, aren’t you?” Firanna muttered. “Don’t worry - with my magic, taking care of the boar should be easy.”

“Aren't you worried about ruining the meat?” I asked. “I'm sure your powerful, but a fire affinity might not be-”

“My affinity is not fire,” Firanna interrupted, glaring at me. “It's ice.”

“But I thought every member of the royal family had…” I trailed off under her icy stare. “Right. Sorry.”

“As I was saying, I’ll be the one to halt the boar with my magic,” Firanna continued, after a moment more of glaring at me. “Amy, you will focus on protecting May and Pauline. May, in turn, can point out any vegetation worth grabbing on our way to the boar, while Pauline will be on hand to heal any injuries in the unlikely event that they occur.”

“Question,” May stated. “You never told me the purpose of this hunt. Why are we going after a monster boar? There are much more profitable monsters to hunt. Carnivores that do not eat all the magical vegetation around them would be preferred.”

“We’re hunting for a boar because it’s Bridgette’s favorite meal,” Firanna explained, before I could. “Did you tell her nothing, Amy?”

“I was a little distracted by her work on Princess Jethroo,” I said in my defense. “And she didn’t seem to care much about anything beyond getting ingredients for alchemy.”

“I don’t care,” May confirmed. “As long as there’s ingredients to be found that is. Monster boars are notorious for eating up everything worthwhile in their environments. Though I suppose there’s at least the core.”

“I uh… actually need that,” I confessed. “To make mana potions.”

“You are taking the core?” May asked, turning to me. “And Lady Firanna is taking the meat… I do not see where I fit into this.”

“You can identify plants on the way to the boar’s habitat,” Firanna said. “And I’ll pay you three gold coins besides - that should be more than enough to get yourself some proper alchemical ingredients.”

“…Acceptable,” May said, after a moment’s thought. “So long as I am the one who brews the mana potion.”

“You want to brew it?” I asked. “But… I’m the one who needs it.”

“You can have it,” May said. “I just like brewing things. Even boring things, like mana potions - though I suppose I could experiment a little? The process is simple by itself, but the taste leaves something to be desired. Making it taste good without losing efficiency would be challenging - especially if I am restricted to using plants we find along the way to the boar.”

“And that’s… a good thing?” I asked, a little confused.

“Yes. Obviously. Simple work is boring. I yearn for the challenge. Also, if I succeed, I can laugh in the face of those who make mana potions the boring way and say that I’m better at it. I suppose my parents could also make use of the recipe to sell mana potions at higher prices. They’d like that.”

“Your parents,” Firanna interjected. “They’re merchants, are they not?”

“Yes,” May confirmed. “They own and run the Forthright Trading Company.”

“Forthright indeed,” Firanna murmured. “They’re quite successful, from my understanding - and yet you, personally, are here as a scholarship student, are you not? Something generally reserved for commoners with no wealth of their own.”

“That’s because my parents didn’t wish for me to come here,” May explained. “They initially did, since they hoped I could make connections, but after the fifth - or sixth? I stopped counting, actually, but after the seventh etiquette teacher broke down crying at my hopelessness, the eighth made them promise to never let me near anyone of noble status.”

“You’re joking,” I said, hardly able to believe my ears.

“Yes,” May confirmed. “I’m fairly certain there were only five etiquette teachers. Also, it was my parents’ decision that I not be allowed near nobles. But I wanted to learn more about alchemy, so I secretly applied for a scholarship anyway.”

“That’s really impressive,” Pauline said. “The scholarships are pretty competitive.”

“Yes,” May confirmed, nodding. “Or so they told me. My scholarship was for alchemy in particular, though, which has always come easy for me. Unfortunately none of the other subjects do. I do spectacularly terribly in etiquette classes, for example.”

“I thought the etiquette classes for you commoners was meant to be easier than what they put us nobles through,” Firanna remarked. “Since you’re only expected to know enough not to piss off anyone of higher rank.”

“Yes,” May said, nodding. “It’s very difficult for me to actually care about that, though, so I usually just plot out alchemy recipes during class time.”

“That might be why you’re failing,” Pauline pointed out, her voice gentle.

“Yes,” May said, nodding again. “It probably is. Would you like to hear my latest alchemy recipe? It makes everything taste sweet for three hours after you drink it. Despite this, it contains no sugar.”

“Is there a purpose to that?” I asked.

“…It might help parents get their children to eat vegetables.”

“You just thought of that, didn’t you?” I accused.

“Yes. I am now also considering whether I can make a potion that makes everything taste like vegetables. Though I suppose first I’d need to pick the vegetable. Or find a taste that just makes people think of vegetables? The essence of vegetables, even.”

“And who would use that?” Firanna asked, before I could.

“Pranksters, perhaps? I don’t know. That’s for my parents to figure out. I just make the recipes.”

“Yes, well, just as long as you keep your little potions away from the dinner I’m making,” Firanna said. “I don’t want anything to ruin the taste of boar.”

“Of course,” May said, sounding almost affronted. “A potion must be appreciated by the one who consumes it, or it is of no value.”

“But didn’t you just say that your vegetable potion would be best used by pranksters?” I pointed out. “I doubt the victims would appreciate it, in such a case.”

“Yes,” May said. “I just said that as an excuse, though. I mostly just want to create the recipe because I think it’ll be a challenge. Also, I don’t really care whether the potion is enjoyed or not. Saying I did just seemed like the best way to ease Lady Firanna’s fears.”

“And you’re just admitting it?” Firanna asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Is that a problem?” May asked, arching an eyebrow right back. “I really won’t mess with your dinner.”

“How can I be sure you’re not just saying that to put me at ease?” Firanna challenged.

“Because I am not an idiot? Ruining a princess’s dinner would get me in trouble. Though you still haven’t explained why this Bridgette is worth hunting a monster for.”

“Do you care?” Firanna asked.

“Not at all. Would you like to hear the recipe for my no-sugar sweet potion?”

“Not at all,” Firanna replied, leaning back in her seat.

“Understood,” May said. “To begin with, I take-”

“I said I don’t care!” Firanna interrupted, frowning.

“I know,” May replied. “But I decided that I don’t care that you don’t care. Now, as I was saying, the first step is find a flask of the proper size. I like to make big batches, so the bigger the better as a rule - unless I’m making a super concentrated potion, at least, in which case I use the smallest flask I can find. Of course, sometimes I can’t find a flask at all and have to settle for a beaker - do you know the difference between a flask and a beaker? A flask has a narrow end and a wide bottom, while a beaker is a simple cylinder. Both have their uses within the alchemical process, but I personally prefer to use flasks most of the time. They’re convenient to hold. And look dramatic when I swing them about.”

“Ugh…” Firanna murmured, grimacing. “Something tells me this is going to be a long trip.”

***

Long winded explanations of alchemy aside, we did eventually arrive at our destination. Usually the carriage had a predetermined stopping point right at the center of town, but in this case Firanna insisted that the driver take us to The Guild itself. Perhaps due to her status, the driver caved - or maybe it had more to do with her icy glare, and less than subtle threats about freezing the carriage’s wheels if he refused her.

Regardless, we soon found ourselves in the guild. Unfortunately, our problems didn’t end there, though - as it turned out, there were no quests for hunting boar monsters on the board. Which, in turn, left us with only one option.

“Please, any line but that one,” I said, trying not to panic when I saw Firanna moving towards a particular secretary’s line.

“But it’s the shortest one,” Firanna protested. “There’s only one other person in it. And look - the secretary is even waving at us.”

“Um… Is it just me, or did she do something to the person in front of us?” Pauline asked, looking worriedly at the aforementioned gentleman, who was now doubled over in pain.

“I’m not waiting in line when I don’t have to,” Firanna said, in lieu of answering, already heading towards the secretary.

“Heya Amy!” Ginny called, waving at me. “I opened up a space in line, just for you!”

“I was here first, though,” the rather brave guild member in front of us croaked out.

“Yeah, well, if you wanted proper service than you should have looked me in the eyes instead of staring down my blouse. Also, for the record? You’re not my type.”

“But-”

“Next!” Ginny yelled, loudly. “By which I of course mean Amy and co - how’s my favorite newbie doing?”

“I’m your favorite?” I asked, curious despite myself.

“You or Bridgette - kind of a coin toss, really, but you’re currently winning on account of actually being here. With a whole party, it looks like. Need to get them registered?”

“Yes,” Firanna interjected. “I would like to register as an official hunter. Pauline is a healer, and May here is a gatherer - you can take care of the registration with that information, yes?”

“Of course!” Ginny confirmed, grabbing a few samestones. “I’ll register you in half a jiffy. Maybe even a quarter!”

“What’s a jiffy?” May asked.

“A length of time that means whatever I want it to,” Ginny replied, grinning. “Now give me two shakes and a third of a jiffy, and you’ll be all set. Anything else you need while I’m at it?”

“Information,” I said. “We’re looking for a boar monster, but there’s nothing on the board.”

“A boar monster?”

“Preferably a tasty looking one,” Firanna added. “I intend to turn it into someone’s dinner.”

“A tasty looking one, huh?” Ginny asked. “Not really sure what a tasty looking boar monster would look like exactly… but I do know a place where you might find one.”

“Might?” Firanna asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Uh-huh. There’s been some signs of a new monster claiming territory in the nearby woods, but nobody’s actually seen what’s doing it yet. It also hasn’t actually attacked anyone or done anything yet, so nobody’s put a bounty on it - but The Guild’s promised to investigate anyway, ‘cause information’s power and all that. And also it’s sort of expected that we can answer questions… Now, usually we don’t send newbies out on these investigation quests - need someone seasoned, who everyone trusts, y’know? - but I could ‘accidentally’ let slip the precise location, and you could - coincidentally - end up there. And hey, if you hunt whatever’s causing it, then it doesn’t really matter whether the information you come back with is trustworthy or not ‘cause there won’t be a monster there anymore, right?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Firanna mused.

“Does it?” I ask. “We’re not even sure it’s a boar!”

“But it could be one!” Ginny said. “And even if it isn’t, it’s probably something edible. Worse comes to worse, I give you first dibs on the next monster boar quest we get.”

“And why would you do any of this for us?” Firanna asked.

“Other than the fact that I’m bored, like to thumb my nose at the guild rules, and kinda-sorta have a minor girl crush on Amy?”

“You what?” I asked - or tried. Pauline actually beat me to it, causing me to look at her in surprise.

“It’s because you’re going to pay me!” Ginny continued, ignoring the exclamation. “One rack please!”

~~~

Author's Notes

Of course, if you're eager to read ahead, you could always join my Patreon and read up to chapter 44 for as little as $1~! (...I'm a bit behind on updating here. I've posted up to chapter 39 elsewhere.)

PS: I updated the synopsis. No big changes, but I cleaned it up a bit with help from a patron on my dsicord. Also gave credit to the artist of the cover, thesweetwinter. Since I apparently wasn't doing that before?