“What…” Seraphine swallowed, her voice trembling as she lifted her gaze from the letter to Alisea. “What am I supposed to do, Alisea?”
The words broke despite her effort to steady them. She clenched the letter in her hands, crumpling the edge until it threatened to tear. Her chest ached, each breath coming a little too fast, the sting behind her eyes growing harder to ignore. She had known this day would come. However, knowing it, and being ready for it, were entirely different things.
“I barely know how Seraphine behaves,” she blurted. “How am I supposed to act toward her best friend? Lady Evelina was her childhood friend, wasn’t she? She might know her better than Lord Lucien does, and he already noticed something was wrong! If she sees it too… What then? What happens when word spreads?”
(If Lady Evelina ever finds out the truth, I feel like it will be even worse than Prince Cassian knowing about it.)
Alisea furrowed her brows in concern and perhaps pity as well. She guided Seraphine to sit, gently taking the letter from her hands and setting it upon the dressing table. Then, Alisea knelt before her, looking up with a gentle and comforting expression.
“You call her Evelina,” she explained, resting her hand over Seraphine’s and giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. “Only on rare occasions, when you feel grateful or… guilty, you call her Eve.”
Alisea's expression softened. “Don't worry, my lady, I will teach you all I know,” she continued with a bright smile. “Yes, you two are different. However, you shall not worry. In truth, the two of you are more alike than you think. As if you took over her habits and some… I'm not sure how to explain, like the same kind of aura, even her manner of speaking.”
Seraphine tilted her head, startled. “What? But how?”
(I don't know her personally, so how can I be like her?)
It was then she realized Alisea had been right. Her posture straightened, she no longer slouched. She still avoided modern words, but even her speech had subtly shifted. Her little speech quirks she once relied on, ending sentences with ‘ you know ’ or sprinkling in ‘ like ’ too often, had disappeared. Over time, her cursing even gradually faded into milder words. She had changed.
(Damn it all! I will NOT become her! I will still remain myself. I am Mina, just pretending to be Seraphine. I'm not really her, I–)
Alisea gave her hand another squeeze, snapping Seraphine out of her thoughts. “Don’t frown, my lady. It’s alright. You are still you. You may share the same spine, but you are not the same person.”
She met Seraphine’s eyes, steady and sincere. “Lady Seraphine never lowered her gaze when insulted. She spoke back when others expected silence. You do the same. However, your paths are different. You wish to go to the dungeons, to find your way home. She never dared to touch a sword, let alone step into the depths below. You are similar, yes. But not the same.”
“Alisea…” Seraphine faltered, unsure how to respond. Saying her name was all she managed. It felt as though Alisea always noticed what she tried so hard to hide, as if she could see straight through her.
She smiled softly, then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her.
“Thank you.”
Alisea patted her back, warm and reassuring. When they pulled apart, she grinned. “Besides, you still have different tastes in food, clothes and… perhaps even in love.”
“H-how did you know?” Seraphine blurted, heat rushing to her face. She looked away, embarrassed. Was she truly that obvious for not liking Lucien romantically? If Alisea noticed, others might too. Was her act already slipping?
“I pay close attention to you, my lady. Don't worry, it's not that obvious. I can see that you have grown closer as friends rather than lovers, but to others, it may still look like the affection of lovers,” Alisea said, easing Seraphine’s fears once more.
“Besides,” Alisea added with a knowing smile, almost teasing, “I have a feeling your heart lies elsewhere.”
“The truth is…” Seraphine hesitated, then took a breath. “I had, no, I have a lover. Back in my old life. I was going to propose.” Her voice softened. “I still cannot let go of that love.”
Alisea’s expression softened with sympathy, a hint of embarrassment crossing her face. “Oh my goodness. I thought you liked Prince Cassian instead. I sincerely apologize for my misunderstanding. No wonder you are in such a hurry to return home. Does… Lord Lucien know?”
(What? I absolutely have no romantic feelings for Prince Cassian.)
Seraphine shook her head, a faint blush creeping her face as she wanted to ignore the first statement. “I can’t bring myself to tell him. You are the first I’ve told.” Her fingers curled into her skirt. “I’m afraid. What if I can’t go back at all? And what if I do, but everything is already too late? What's the point in burdening Lord Lucien with all this?”
This time it was Alisea who wrapped her arms around Seraphine, patting her back gently. “My lady, what is your true name?”
“...Mina,” Seraphine blurted out. After a long silence, tears start falling down her cheeks. It was her first time saying her own name aloud in this world. It felt scary, but also liberating.
She was grateful that Alisea did not offer fake promises that it would be alright. Instead, Alisea asked for the last fragile thread Seraphine was clinging to, the one keeping her from losing herself completely to being Seraphine. If Alisea remembered her true name, could she remain herself forever?
Alisea drew back and dabbed at Seraphine’s tears with a handkerchief she had produced from her apron pocket so smoothly Seraphine barely noticed the motion. Alisea smiled gently at her.
“Whenever you feel like losing yourself, I will call you by your true name, Lady Mina.”
Seraphine shook her head with a grateful smile. “Just Mina. I was no noble in my past life, and I want us to be equals, Alisea.”
Alisea nodded. She went on one knee and held her hand into a fist against her chest. The familiar scene Seraphine saw a week ago.
“As your loyal servant and friend, I, Alisea of Siltagel, kneel before you and renew my oath to you . For my life is yours. I swear to keep your secrets, protect you, and serve you faithfully. I swear this not to Lady Seraphine, but to you, Mina.”
The tears Alisea had just wiped away returned before Seraphine could stop them. They blurred her vision, her chest tightening as something inside her finally gave in.
She slid from her chair and sank to her knees without thinking, arms wrapping around Alisea as if she were afraid her friend might disappear if she let go.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She swallowed, then repeated it, quieter. “Truly…thank you, Alisea.”
(For once… I don’t have to pretend.)
Seraphine barely slept, from the little sleep she got, she woke up early only to be awakened fully by the chirps of the birds and the sun sneaking through the curtains. It was as if the world was laughing at her in a sinister way.
The sunlight was an unpleasant welcome. Seraphine groaned and pulled the blanket over her head, retreating into darkness once more. She had planned to spend the morning practicing her magic, or perhaps her swordplay, but fate decided otherwise.
Just recently, she had finally managed to wield a longsword properly with one hand. It was how the weapon was meant to be used, after all, not like a greatsword. She was strong enough now to be flexible with it. In her other hand, she tried to use a wooden shield to bolster her defense, though the motion still felt awkward. That was precisely why she wanted to train more.
She pushed the blanket down with a lot of force, groaning and gasping for air as she stayed under the blanket longer than the air provided for her lungs.
(I hope I can roleplay as Seraphine well. Alisea drilled me all about her.)
She recalled Alisea’s enthusiasm from the previous evening.
“Don’t worry,” Alisea had said with a chuckle, flexing one arm as if to prove her strength and confidence. “We still have the rest of the evening. I’ll teach you all about Lady Seraphine.”
Just remembering the evening before made Seraphine chuckle. She pushed the blankets aside and stepped out of bed. Walking toward the mirror, the sight of her reflection made her chest tighten again.
“Will I really be okay today?” she mumbled. Her reflection reminded her of the one before her, which made her glare at herself.
“This is your fault,” she whispered to the girl staring back at her. Then she scoffed softly. “Have I gone mad? It's not like you can hear me anyways. And now I'm talking to myself and still continuing to do so. Great.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed her bangs back roughly. A long, heavy sigh escaped her as she rested her hands on her hips and turned toward the window. With a sharp tug, she pulled the curtains aside, squinting as the bright morning light flooded the room.
“The world must love mocking me,” Seraphine muttered, shielding her eyes from the bright morning light with her hand. Outside her window, the garden was a picture of winter serenity. Birds chirped in the crisp air and snow glittered on every branch. Among the white, pink Camellias poked boldly through the frost, their delicate petals stubborn against the cold. Their delicate blooms glowed against the white, a reminder of Evelina, and Seraphine couldn’t help but scowl. Even the garden seemed to tease her.
Seraphine blinked against the morning light, her hand still shielding her eyes. In the garden, a figure moved among the snow-dusted Camellias, her long, pastel-pink hair bouncing lightly with each step. The girl bent down, brushing frost from one of the red blooms nestled among the pink, her head tilting from side to side as if caught in a silent melody.
Seraphine froze.
(It can’t be. Not this soon.)
She hadn’t expected anyone besides the gardener to be in the garden so early. And yet, as if sensing her gaze, the girl stood, turned, and tilted her head up. Her pale blue eyes met Seraphine’s, sparkling like sunlight on snow, bright, lively, and innocent.
It was Evelina.
The girl’s sweet, bubbly smile lit her face as she waved enthusiastically. “Good morning, Sera!” she called, her voice ringing like bells. Seraphine could just hear it even through the closed first-floor window.
Seraphine forced a happy smile and waved back, hastily opening the window and leaning on the sill as she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders.
“You are very early, Evelina. I am not yet properly dressed to receive you,” she said, peering down at her visitor.
“That does not matter, Sera! I would not wish to disturb your rest, and so I would have lingered in the garden regardless. Yet I could not wait another moment to see you,” Evelina said, a faint blush in her cheeks, her eyes bright with eagerness. Then she clapped her hands in delight, her smile bright and cheerful. “How fortunate I find myself that you are already awake!”
Seraphine exhaled softly. “It is fortunate I am up indeed. Come now, Eve, you must not freeze in the morning air. I shall call upon the servants at once.”
“Take care to dress warmly, Sera! I shall await you inside,” Evelina chirped like a child given candy, waving once more before hopping lightly toward the entrance.
Seraphine watched her until she disappeared from view, then closed the window and slumped to her knees with a sigh.
“That was… quite unnerving,” she muttered, trembling slightly as she stood and made her way to ring the bell by her bedside.
Her heart raced. Evelina had come so early. Why? Was she really that eager to see her? What if she was still asleep? How long would Evelina have waited in the garden? How had she even sensed her presence before? Was it mere coincidence?
Questions tumbled in Seraphine’s mind, sharp and insistent, but she had no time to seek answers.
Alisea arrived promptly, helping her with her dress and hair as if preparing her for a battlefield. Every tug of the ribbons and brush of the hair seemed to steady her frayed nerves, but could it be enough?
“You will be alright, my lady,” Alisea said softly as she brushed Seraphine’s hair.
Seraphine swallowed, gripping the wool-lined folds of her midnight blue gown, the high neck and long sleeves doing little to calm the fluttering in her chest.
(Will I really be alright?)