Amy

Amelia refused to respond to me after that, no matter how much I verbally prodded or teased or even plainly asked her to work together with me. Eventually, realizing that I wouldn’t be able to break through her stubbornness any time soon, I went downstairs to get breakfast. There I found Clara, tending to the food in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if it was still cooking, or if she was merely keeping it warm while waiting for me, but I did soon realize why she hadn’t come to get me - Bridgette was standing there with her.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, a little worried about what might have brought the two together.

“Everything is fine, my Lady,” Clara replied, her voice terse, and her eyes still on Bridgette. “Miss Bridgette here was merely asking me a question or two.”

“A question?” I asked, a bit worried now. Had Bridgette noticed something was up with me? Or perhaps Clara was the one who’d been acting strange - she had stopped in shock, when Amelia reached her tentacle out the other day. Add in her recent lack of attentive care, and it wouldn’t be surprising if Bridgette had figured out something strange was going on, if not what.

To my surprise, however, Bridgette’s cheeks turned faintly red at the question. “It’s nothing.”

A lie. I knew it - and she must have realized that, almost as soon as she said it, as her eyes went wide. “That’s… I mean…”

“She was asking about your favorite dishes,” Clara informed me. “Whether there was anything you especially liked, or disliked.”

“And… what did you tell her?” I asked, my own cheeks slightly flushed now.

“That you have a taste for the simple, and the sweet,” Clara replied. “Though you seem to enjoy most everything I serve, making me believe that you perhaps inherited Lady Amelia’s tastes, I’ve noticed that you aren’t nearly so demanding in terms of what graces your plate. While Lady Amelia preferred complex dishes, with a variety of textures and tastes upon her plate, you’re just as happy with simple one-ingredient recipes. A boon for Miss Bridgette, I am sure. You also like sweets, but I do believe baking like that may be beyond her capabilities.”

“It isn’t,” I replied, frowning a little. “She made me cookies, when I was in prison - and I’m fairly sure she can cook well, too, if she puts her mind to it.”

“Ah…” Bridgette looked a bit sheepish for some reason when I glanced at her. “Pauline baked those, actually… She just didn’t want me to tell you that, since she still wasn’t sure if you were the real Amelia or not, and the real one wouldn’t have accepted anything from her anyway…”

“And I’ve heard rumors about Miss Bridgette’s cooking abilities,” Clara added. “The only thing she can actually make is meat dishes - and even then, she has a tendency to char the outside while leaving the interior rare.”

“That’s how I like it!” Bridgette protested. Not a lie, either, to my surprise. “It’s not my fault that the teacher has different tastes than me - I never thought I’d be cooking for anyone else, anyway, so I never saw much point in learning how to suit other people’s tastes.”

“You do realize there’s no need to push yourself to cook for me, don’t you?” I asked. “Clara’s cooking is more than good enough for me.”

‘More than good enough’? Amelia asked. She’s the best cook in this whole damn kingdom, so far as I’m concerned. Not that I’ve actually tried anyone else’s cooking in years, I suppose - I stopped taking chances like that after one of the cooks slipped poison into my food.

I wanted to respond to that - to tease her a little about how quick she was to defend Clara, if nothing else - but with Bridgette right there I was forced to keep my mouth shut. Thankfully, Bridgette didn’t seem to pay it much mind when my expression stiffened and shifted to a carefully blank mask. Clara did, judging by how she was eyeing me, but it wasn’t as if she’d speak on the matter in front of Bridgette anyway.

“Can’t you tell I’m trying to be romantic, here?” Bridgette groused. “I mean, how else am I supposed to show you affection, considering how dense you are? At least if I make food it’ll be pretty clear that some effort went into it - plus, I can probably feed you and stuff!”

“If you truly have feelings for me, then perhaps you should consider not insulting me at every turn?” I suggested, arching an eyebrow. “Calling me dense and a glutton in the same breath is a bit much, even for you.”

“I never said you were a glutton!” Bridgette protested.

“You implied it,” I replied, my tone cold. Not that I particularly minded it - in truth, my appetite had shrunken down significantly compared to what it had been before my arrival in this world. Though part of that probably had something to do with the food being a bit bland, as Clara had been forced to ration spices for a while. Once I’d been engaged to Firanna, though, the food had gone up a notch in flavor - and yet I still only ate relatively small portions, come to think of it. It seemed to be all this body craved.

It was fun to tease Bridgette about it, though.

“You… What do you suggest, then!?” the knight demanded. “Harrison told me that the best way to woo someone was through their stomach, and  Brianna told me that I should I should stay true to myself and be honest with you, but everything I’ve tried so far has just gotten you to glare at me!”

“I…” I hesitated a moment, surprised to realize that Bridgette actually looked upset about the whole exchange. “I don’t know. I’ve never been wooed before. Nor am I entirely sure why anyone would want to woo me in the first place, even now - Queen Katherine may have thought it pretty clear that this body alone wasn’t enough, but considering my own personality I’m forced to wonder if all it amounts to a lack of active repellant.”

Are you trying to say that all these girls would have been fawning over me if I hadn’t driven them off? Amelia scoffed. Surely even you can understand how stupid that sounds. I didn’t even know that Pauline was interested in girls - and Bridgette has always been rather dense herself, when it comes to noticing her suitors. I never thought the day would come where she’d actually pursue someone, female or otherwise.

Bridgette, for her part, didn’t say a word. Instead, I watched as her appearance flickered, her location and posture shifting from one spot to the next faster than I could blink. A sign that she had used her ability, in some way, though what she’d actually accomplished in doing so I had no way of knowing. Especially since all she did was glare at me, after that, before suddenly disappearing altogether.

“You seem to have a talent for getting under her skin,” Clara remarked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so mad that she couldn’t come up with a comeback, before. “

“Mad?” I asked. “Why would she be mad? I’m the one who’s being pursued for no reason I can wrap my head around.”

Perhaps it has something to do with the way you denied her? Amelia replied - though she herself didn’t seem entirely certain. Not that I was particularly surprised by that - Amelia excelled at schemes and plotting, but her ability to predict how others would react to things came from a mix of pattern recognition and future sight rather than true understanding or empathy. Romance, in particular, was likely something of a blind spot for her.

Not that I was much better in that regard.

“Lady Amelia said something to you just now, didn’t she?” Clara asked, pulling out the screen stone from before to show me that it had been activated.

“She did,” I confirmed, grimacing. “How could you tell?”

“Your expression has a tendency to change on a dime, when you aren’t purposefully masking it,” Clara informed me. “The fact that you were processing some form of thought or another was obvious - though I doubt most would realize it was due to a private conversation between the two of you.”

“I’d hardly call it a conversation,” I replied. “More of a one-sided lecture, really - it’s not as if I can actually talk back to her without saying the words aloud, after all.”

“Have you tried?”

“Have I… I mean, no, but how would that even work? You don’t think she can read my thoughts or anything, do you?” The very thought of it sent shivers down my spine.

I can’t, for the record, Amelia said, sounding almost bitter about it.

“Have you tried?” I asked, a little worried now.

Amelia didn’t respond to that - but Clara did.

“You’re going to get into trouble if you keep talking aloud to the voice in your head like that.”

“I’m already having trouble, from what you said,” I pointed out. “So wouldn’t it be better if we simply stopped conversing in public, in general?”

“And keep Lady Amelia muted within your head, unable to even express herself?” Clara asked, angrily.

As if I’m going to shut up in my own head! Amelia exclaimed, simultaneously.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, then?” I demanded, crossing my arms and glaring at Clara. “You’re the one who pointed out the problem in the first place.”

“I never said it was a problem - only that it was obvious.” My confusion must have been obvious, too, for a moment later Clara let out a sigh and continued. “Your expressions had a tendency to shift on a dime even before Lady Amelia’s return. You get lost in your own head quite a bit, you know.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” I grudgingly conceded. “But then why bring it up at all? From the sounds of it, all I need to do is avoid talking to Amelia when there’s not a screenstone present.”

“And deny her a conversation partner?” Clara demanded. “No. Since your expressions already change on a dime, and your tendency to get lost in your thoughts has been well observed by now, you should lean into it - don’t speak to her, think to her.”

“She can’t read my thoughts, though! She said so herself.”

“Perhaps not by default, but have you ever tried actively directing thoughts in her direction?” Clara asked. “Mind reading is considered almost impossible in spell-form, you know, and yet there exist telepathy spells that are fully functional for two way communication. Intent matters. Even more so when you’re sharing a head, I suspect.”

“That’s…” I hesitated. She wasn’t wrong about me not having ever tried that. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to. The idea of Amelia being able to read my thoughts, in any capacity, was quite honestly rather scary - but if Clara was right about intent mattering, then perhaps I was simply overworrying? Even if I sent something without meaning to, it wasn’t as if Amelia could really do anything to me at the moment, and she already seemed to view me as something of an antagonist, so… what was there to lose?

“Very well,” I said, at last. “But if this doesn’t work, I’m… going to glare at you.”

“If that is what you wish, my Lady,” Clara replied, blandly. 

“And I still think we need to talk, after this. One way or another.”

“If you’re hoping I’ll tell you what you did to make Miss Bridgette so mad, I won’t say no - but I will advise that it’s likely to make her even madder.”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I can talk to her about that later. I… want to talk about… our situation. About what we discussed last night.”

“Later,” Clara replied, her voice terse. “Lady Firanna will be coming down for breakfast soon, so I suggest you hurry up and focus on trying to speak with Lady Amelia.”

“Right…” I murmured, before pausing. “Though I’m a bit surprised she hasn’t been speaking up to encourage it, herself. She’s not usually so patient with me.”

She made no verbal response to that, but I felt the flare of anxiety that shot through her. Was it possible that she actually wanted this to work?

“Well… Here goes nothing,” I muttered, turning my attention inwards. ‘Amelia? Can you hear me?’

Loud and clear.

Her mental voice came across as haughty, and a touch rushed from excitement. As if she’d purposefully crafted it to try and hide her feelings on the matter, and yet it still squeaked through - and while it was possible that this was some form of manipulation on her part, I couldn’t help but think the feeling was at least partially genuine.

‘I suppose this means that we can talk a bit more regularly, now,’ I mused. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing, really, since it meant I’d likely be spending a lot more time staring off into space, seemingly lost in my thoughts as others judged me distractible and perhaps even a bit airheaded… but it was worth it, in the end, if it made Amelia feel a touch more free.

I’m glad for it, Amelia said, not even bothering to hide her joy this time. We have a lot to discuss, after all. Starting with why the hell you don’t seem to think yourself good enough for even a one-time commoner like ‘Miss’ Bridggette.

~~~

Author's Notes

My headmate bullied me into writing earlier in the day than I usually would, so that she wouldn't have to worry about me trying to take back the front later. It's probably a habit I should try to get into regardless, though - even if it does feel kinda weird to be done with writing so early in the day...

Hope to write more tomorrow! Or rather to let Katrice write more, as it'll probably be Naughty Magic...

Either way, though, I hope you enjoy the chapter! This isn't entirely how I expected this conversation to go - I didn't originally plan on the Bridgette bits at all, and expected Clara to bring the rest up at the end of breakfast, before Amy went to classes - but things tend to unfold as they like in this story, and I'm not complaining since I think it leads to a more natural feel anyway!