Amy

“Amy?” Bridgette asked, knocking on the door again.

“J-just a minute!” I called back, before turning my attention towards the mental voice I’d heard. “Amelia…?”

Oh goody. You remember me.

“I… Sort of?” I confessed, speaking softly in the hopes that Clara wouldn’t hear. “It’s still a bit fuzzy, but I do know I dreamt about you… More than once, I think?”

Fuzzy is it? How odd. I wonder - is it a natural result of re-entering the waking world, or is something somehow interfering with your memories?

“I… I’m not sure,” I admitted. To be honest, the idea that someone was messing with my mind scared me - especially since I couldn’t entirely rule it out. Still… “We shouldn’t assume the worst, though. It truly could be natural.”

As you say, Amelia replied. She didn’t sound entirely convinced, though.

“I mean, who would even be manipulating my memories, anyway? The demon?”

Perhaps. Though I doubt it - I don’t imagine they can afford to give us that sort of attention, at the moment.

I wanted to ask what she meant by that, but before she could another knock came at the door, louder than before.

“Amy!?” Bridgette shouted through the door. “Are you doing okay in there?”

“I… I’m fine!” I replied, before biting at my lower lip. I wanted to tell her what was going on - that Amelia was back, somehow - but fear stayed my tongue. If Bridgette found out, she’d undoubtedly feel it was her duty to tell the king. And if the king found out that the villainess duke’s daughter was back, there was no telling how he might respond. He’d stayed my execution on the grounds that I wasn’t the real Amelia, who’d tried to poison Pauline, and while I didn’t think he’d have me put to death over her return, I had no doubt he’d be displeased.

You wouldn’t be thinking of telling her about me, would you? Amelia asked, her mental tone sharp and cold enough to send a chill through my spine.

“I… Not yet…”

Good. That means you aren’t a total fool.

I didn’t reply, despite the guilt I felt in the depths of my stomach. The truth was that I wanted to tell Bridgette, even knowing that it would be a terrible idea. I wanted to trust her… But even if I could trust her not to report the king, would it really be the right thing to do? I’d be asking her to keep a secret from her liege. To commit treason against the crown. All for the sake of someone she barely knew. Even if she did ultimately do as I asked, in the name of love, there was no denying the harm I’d be inflicting upon her by putting her in such an unenviable position.

“Uh, you know I can hear you in there, right? Are you… talking to someone?”

“D-don’t be ridiculous,” I replied, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. “There’s nobody here.”

“…Right… Well, in that case, would you mind hurrying it up in there? Clara won’t let us eat until you’re present and I’m starving.”

“Right. Sorry.” I removed myself from the bed, striding towards the door, only to stop just short of opening the door. “Wait. She actually allowed you to come up here? To disturb me?”

“Well… I wouldn’t say she allowed it, per se,” Bridgette admitted, sounding a bit awkward. “It’s more like I didn’t give her time to stop me? I might be kinda sorta really hungry. Serious conversations like the one I just had take a lot out of me1”

“ But… Surely she could have used her magic to reach me before you, no? To guard the door, if nothing else?”

“…Huh… You know, that is kinda weird, now that you mention it, isn’t it? She has been a bit distracted since you went upstairs, though. I swear, I actually smelt something burning for a sec, earlier… And she never burns anything!”

I didn’t respond, my thoughts too preoccupied by Clara’s behavior to formulate a proper response. As Bridgette said, she had seemed a bit distracted, ever since one of my tentacles grabbed her. Even when she delivered the jars to me - I hadn’t paid much attention to it in the moment, but wasn’t it odd that she hadn’t even offered to help me milk the mana from my tentacles? I might very well have said no, especially considering her plans to make food, but that wouldn’t normally stop her from asking. She’d likely consider it improper not to.

“Wait… the tentacle…” Hadn’t I talked with Amelia about that, during the dream? Hadn’t she said it was her who had taken control of one of my tentacles, making it act odd throughout the day?

Finally remembered, did you? Amelia asked, sounding mildly irritated. Yes, I sent her a signal. I expected her to remain discreet about it, but she seems to have grown careless in my absence. I imagine she didn’t think you or your friends capable of picking up on it - an understandable conclusion, I suppose, though I’ll still have to punish her for it.

“Or maybe your absence simply affected her more severely than you imagined,” I snapped, annoyed by Amelia’s apparent disregard for her loyal servant. “She actually seems to care about you, you know.”

“Again, you do realize I can hear you, right?” Bridgette asked through the door. “Is this about the whole ‘me reporting to the king’ thing? Because I get why you might wanna keep some things private, in light of that, but a mystery guest is just too big a security risk. So how about you tell me who you’re talking to, and I… uh… Huh. I might not have thought this through, completely…”

She’s not even trying to pretend she’s loyal to you - and yet she claims to care about you? Pathetic.

I for one actually thought there was value in Bridgette’s honesty. I respected her loyalty, too, even if it was a rather large inconvenience at the moment. At least she’d never lied to me about it.

Not that I could say any of that aloud without further rousing her suspicions.

“There’s nobody else here, Bridgette,” I said, opening the door. “I was just talking to myself.” 

I hated how easily the lie flowed from my lips. The fact that I could simply stare Bridgette in the eye and lie to her face like that made me feel like some form of slimy, disgusting and immoral monster. Even if it was only due to me inheriting Amelia’s ability to carefully control her facial expressions.

“You won’t mind me checking, then?” Bridgette asked, seemingly unaware of the self-loathing that was slowly eating me alive from the inside out.

“Go ahead,” I replied, my tone smooth and steady. Earlier, I’d stuttered - my hesitance and nerves on full display - but now that I’d committed myself to the deception it was all too easy for me to maintain my composure.

A breeze blew past me, causing me to blink, and by the time my eyes reopened Bridgette was… more or less exactly where I left her, actually. Her pose had shifted a bit, but that was about it.

Except, that is, for the apologetic frown that had appeared on her lips. “Guess you were telling the truth after all… Sorry? I might be a little too paranoid. Though you gotta admit, saying all that stuff to yourself was pretty suspicious from an outside perspective.”

Act upset, Amelia advised. Don’t demand her trust, but do insinuate that you are wounded by its absence. Even if it only buys you a moment’s worth of hesitation in the future, it could still prove a vital difference.

“It’s fine,” I replied, instead, forcing my lips into the shape of a smile. “Let’s just go get dinner, okay?”

“Fine by me!” Bridgette said, giving me a bright grin before turning to head out. “But uh - just to be clear, you do know you can tell me if anything’s bothering you, right? I don’t have to report everything to the king, either. …As long as it isn’t anything particularly important, anyway?”

Hardly reassuring, Amelia mentally scoffed.

“Glad to hear it, I suppose,” I responded aloud. “Though I must admit that not knowing what ‘particularly important’ entails leaves me a touch uneasy.”

“Yeah, fair,” Bridgette replied, shrugging. “But I really do have your best interest in heart. I just think that the best way to keep you safe is to make sure the king doesn’t have a reason to be suspicious!”

“As you say.” Again, I forced myself to smile, even as the guilt wound itself into an ever tighter knot inside me.

One day, perhaps I’d be able to tell her the truth. Preferably after I’d found a way to deal with the villainess currently inside of me.

***

Clara

***

Dinner was unusually awkward that night. Perhaps that was partially my own fault, for I was in no mood to facilitate communication, but I would argue that a good portion of the blame still fell upon my Lady’s plate. She was the one who kept rebuffing both Pauline’s tender concern and Firanna’s somewhat quarrelsome but ultimately well meaning questions. Not that this behavior seemed to be intentional - rather, she was seemingly preoccupied, mechanically eating her food while shooting glances at Bridgette - glances that were usually followed by her momentarily freezing in place, her expression unreasonable and her gaze seeming almost distant.

The first few times it happened, the girls tried to draw attention to it. Alas, she brushed off Firanna and Pauline with polite smiles when they tried, saying that she was fine, and even Bridgette only received a word or two of reassurance. Eventually, the girls gave up on trying to pry my Lady’s secrets from her lips, and simply enjoyed their dinners.

Pauline chose to leave as soon as the meal reached its conclusion, apologizing for the intrusion and saying that she really needed to get home and study. My Lady saw her off with a polite smile, her gaze still distant. I do believe she noticed Pauline’s dejection, for I noticed a flash of guilt cross her features once Pauline had turned away, but she said nothing to either dissuade or reassure her, merely waving goodbye when Pauline turned back one final time before ultimately departing.

Firanna chose to be a bit more direct, declaring that she would be in her room, and more than happy to talk if my Lady ever chose to share whatever troubles plagued her with her ‘supposed fiancee.’

Again, my Lady tried to insist that she was fine, but Firanna would have none of it. She cut my Lady off at the first word, saying that she would prefer silence over dishonesty, before striding off.

Bridgette, for her part, didn’t say anything. Which isn’t to say that she wasn’t planning to, but rather that my Lady spoke up before she could.

“I really am fine,” she said, with a picture perfect smile. Which was, I suppose, the problem - my Lady did not have a ‘picture perfect’ smile. In fact, during the rare moments of true happiness I had observed in her, she generally wore a rather goofy grin.

To be honest, I felt that the current smile fit her face better. It was, after all, the same one that Lady Amelia had worn time and time again, whenever she felt the situation warranted it. Of course, Lady Amelia was obviously much better at it, capable of making micro-adjustments to her expression depending on the circumstances, but alas my Lady seemed only capable of mimicking Lady Amelia’s basic suite of default expressions during such times of crisis.

I doubt Bridgette was fooled by the pathetic display - despite her frequently blunt behavior and a general tendency to go with the flow over thinking deeply about things, I knew the knight to be far from unintelligent. There was absolutely no way that she didn’t know something was wrong.

She didn’t press, though. She just gave Amy a smile of her own - a superficially confident grin that I was quite sure would shatter into a thousand pieces if my Lady so much as questioned it.

She didn’t. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. She simply waved at Bridgette, as if afraid to even say the words ‘good night,’ with that same fake smile still pasted to her face.

Bridgette didn’t say anything, either, merely waving back before heading towards her own bedroom.

I’m not entirely sure if leaving me and my Lady alone was a purposeful move on her part. It’s possible that she suspected I had words of my own to share with my Lady, and intended to be considerate by leaving us our privacy. It’s also possible that she hoped I would pry secrets from my Lady’s lips, and in so doing allow the knight herself to hear them. If so, I was more than happy to disappoint, quickly pulling out a pale green screen stone.

“…I didn’t know you had one of those,” my Lady remarked. Seeing as how she’d obviously never seen me with it, I could only guess that she’d become familiar with them through someone else, and had as such correctly assumed my own stone’s purpose.

Of course, it was also possible that someone who did recognize the stone had told her about it directly, but that was a line of thought I didn’t want to go down just yet.

False hope could be such a cruel thing, after all.

“This particular screen stone works by creating a stilled shell of air around us,” I stated, wanting to ensure that my Lady fully understood what I was doing, even as I activated it. “Lady Amelia ordered me to always carry it with me, and to deploy it if ever I intended to speak of private matters. It’s not the best stone on the market, as it seemingly causes its users to have difficulty with breathing if they keep it on too long, but it’s especially well suited to keeping the wind at bay.”

My Lady did not immediately reply to that. Not even to call out the fact that it was quite obviously meant to be a countermeasure against Bridgette, above all others.

“Is there something you need from me, my Lady?” I asked after a moment had passed, fully aware of the fact that my heart had begun to race.

“I…” she began, only to fall silent.

This time I did not speak, allowing the silence to drag on until, at last, she spoke again.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about, Clara.”

“I am listening, my Lady,” I replied, my voice carefully restrained. Neutral and smooth, without a hint of the anticipation that seemed to light my every nerve on fire and hastening my heartbeat. 

“It’s about Amelia,” my Lady continued, before falling silent again. 

This time I stayed quiet. 

“Though something tells me you already know, don’t you?”

Again, I did not reply. I’d like to say that it was a calculated ploy on my part - an attempt to outwit her lie detecting abilities, perhaps. The truth, however, isn’t nearly so glamorous. The sad reality is that I was simply too scared of being wrong to put my hope into words.

Which is perhaps why I ultimately lost control of my smile, upon hearing my Lady’s next statement.

“Lady Amelia has returned.”

~~~

Author's Notes

I'm not sure how I feel about the title of this one, but it's more than a quarter past 4 AM so I'm going to call it good and go to sleep I think...

You can thank Kassandra Kylie for bullying me into finishing this chapter tonight, by the way, though I'm sort of glad she did.... Sorry things have been slow of late. DX I'm trying to make myself pick up the pace, but I'm simultaneously afraid of pushing too harrd and triggering a stress response or (in the absolute worst case scenario) burnout....

Still, I'll see what I can do! Really, I just need to figure out how to push through this depression and reclaim the fun I've always had writing this, but that's easier said than done >,>