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!