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Chapter Text

As glimmering, bright stars adorned the dark sky, the sounds of joyous laughter and chatter rang throughout the bustling city where people flooded the streets. It was the Night of Constellations – a rare summer night that only came once every three years, and was often commemorated by a large festival. One that was held at the heart of the town square and often lasted till the break of dawn.

It was also the very night that this year’s Grand Celestial Ball was held, a highly anticipated social event in the noble’s season; even more so this year as it was to celebrate the engagement of the Crown Prince and his bride-to-be one last time before their wedding in the fall.

Or at least it was supposed to be.

“Clarissa Archibald, I hereby declare our engagement annulled!”

Silence settled in the Grand Ballroom as all eyes turned to the centre of the stage where a young dapperly dressed blonde hair, blue eyed man stood. The Kingdom of Orion’s Crown Prince, Wilhelm Dale the Third’s eyes narrowed as he pointed an accusing finger at the young lady before him.

“I refuse to marry a person who would dare to commit such heinous crimes against others.”

Standing before Wilhelm, a gorgeous young brunette stood proudly in a wine dark red dress. Her long wavy hair adorned by the finest emerald and pearled pins that shone under the chandelier lights, which only further signified her prestige as she held her red fan close to her face, obscuring her expression from view. Unfazed by the sudden declaration, Clarissa Archibald raised a single questioning brow.

“Crimes?”

Her tone was calm, as her relative lack of reaction only served to further rile up Wilhelm’s rage.

“How dare you feign innocence!”

‘I will expose you!’

At that, he turned to address the rest of people in the room; his audience and witnesses to what will be the downfall of that wicked woman.

“I know all about the crimes you had committed against sweet Lisa behind my back! Destroying her personal belongings and tossing them into the school fountain, pushing her down the staircase, and sending your followers to bully her in your place when you cannot.”

Whispers broke out amoungst the crowd of aristocrat attendees as their eyes focused in even more attentively at Clarissa, waiting to see the dark-haired lady’s next move. But of course, not before criticising the very young lady at hand.

“I always knew she was too perfect.”

“Of course, she would take to bullying.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.”

‘I can hear you; you know.’

But yet, she did not speak a word to chastise them.

Instead, Clarissa turned her focus away, choosing to gaze back at the smug face of her idiotic fool of a fiancé.

The blonde was rather pleased with the onset of reactions that his declaration had evoked, but it was not enough. He wanted to see her react further, to witness some sort of emotion at least from that cold expressionless face of hers.

“You still dare to remain there silent? Do I take this as proof of your guilt, Clarissa?”

‘Ridiculous.’

With a loud snap of her shutting fan, the young woman captured the attention of the room.

“I remain silent because I have nothing to say, Your Majesty,”

Her dark green eyes stared back at Wilhelm’s face, before shifting to the pleased young woman standing behind him – his ‘sweet Lisa’. Upon catching Clarissa’s sudden gaze, Lisa Silverstone flinched as she moved closer to Wilhelm. Her hands clung to his jacket, as the young lady cowered uncomfortably beneath Clarissa’s gaze.

“Because regardless of what I do say, it is evidently clear that you have already painted me the culprit of those crimes.”

“Please do not lie, Lady Clarissa!”

Suddenly stepping out from behind Wilhelm, Lisa clasped her hands together as she stared back at the brunette noble.

“I can understand that you must have been jealous for all the time Wilhelm has spent with me instead of you, and you have every right to be as his fiancée but please do not make this situation worse than it already is. I have already forgiven you, but just confess to your crimes and let us just move on from this.”

Wilhelm turned to her, his eyes softening as he looked at the young lady beside him. His tone took a complete change as he took her smaller hands in his.

“Lisa, you are much too kind for forgiving her but I’m afraid that I cannot let Clarissa off so easily, especially not when she had hurt my future bride.”

At that, he turned back to Clarissa, his parents, and then the people in the room.

“That is right, you all heard me clearly. I, Wilhelm Dale the Third, hereby declare Lisa Silverstone as my bride-to-be, and you shall all be my witness to this proclamation.”

From beside him, Lisa blushed, clasping her hand to her cheek in adoration. She was ecstatic, pleased with her secured new found place by his side. He was everything she could have ever dreamed of, her one and only Prince Charming.

“Oh, Wilhelm.”

The Crown Prince stared back in admiration, taking her hands into his once more.

“Don’t worry, Lisa. I will protect you.”

Wrapping his arms around his new bride, Wilhelm turned back to his former – now ex- - fiancée. Now that he had gotten his engagement out of the way, it was now time for the main highlight of the night – the condemnation. A smug smirk found its way onto his lips.

“It appears that you still refuse to acknowledge your crimes, Clarissa. Therefore, I will have no choice but to call forth the witnesses to provide their testimonies.”

From the crowd, three young ladies nervously stepped forward upon the Crown Prince’s gesture.

“Please recite for everybody in this Grand hall exactly what you had confessed to me.”

“Yes,”

A young lady in a baby blue dress step forward to speak first, her eyes never dared to meet Clarissa’s.

“On the Friday of the 3^rd of March, I stood witness as I watched Lady Clarissa take Lady Lisa’s belongings from her dorm room and throw them into the school fountain.”

Immediately after she was done, the brunette in the pink gown beside her continued.

“On the 17^th of June, I saw Lady Clarissa push Lady Lisa down the main staircase of the school entrance and runaway quickly from the scene.”

“And?”

Wilhelm turned his attention to the final witness.

“And we had received instructions to harass and bully Lady Lisa through letters left in our dorm rooms,”

And to prove their point further, each young lady took out a stack of letters which they handed over to the Crown Prince. Wilhelm did not hesitate to open up a letter for the crowd to see as he pointed to the bottom where an incredibly recognisable signature laid.

“They were all signed by Lady Clarissa who threatened to ruin our families if we did not comply with her instructions.”

Nodding back at the three women who had bravely spoken up, Wilhelm dismissed them before he turned back to Clarissa, holding up the damning piece of evidence even higher for all eyes to see.

‘There is no way for you to escape now!’

“The proof is right here before your very eyes, Clarissa. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Fine.”

“Se – “

Wilhelm never finished his sentence as Clarissa sharply cut him off.

“I shall agree to the annulment of our engagement, however,”

Her gaze abruptly landed on the three young ladies who had previously confessed, narrowing as she did. In all honestly, Clarissa would admit that she knew them and perhaps could consider them her acquaintances, after all they had interacted at some points during their time in the academy. However, to say that they were ‘friends’ or ‘followers’, would be too much of a stretch of the truth.

Noticing that Clarissa’s attention had turned to them, they recoiled in fear, immediately averting their eyes anywhere else in the ballroom but towards her. They did not dare meet her eye, especially not after what they had just accused her of.

‘Typical.’

She tsked to herself before speaking.

“I refused to acknowledge any of the crimes you so persistently insist that I have committed, Your Majesty.”

Wilhelm’s face flushed in anger. He was so certain that Clarissa had finally understood the dire circumstances she was in, and would confess like she was supposed to. But unfortunately, he was wrong.

“You – “

“Moving on from that, I would hereby like to discuss my palimony.”

From the crowd, a young lady in a black pinstriped suit’s ears perked. The corner of her lips turned upwards into a grin as she tossed a quick glance back to the centre of the ballroom where the night’s main event was taking place. Pressing her drink to her lips, she took her last few sips.

‘It’s finally time.’

Placing her glass of champagne down, she took it as her que to finally enter the stage.

“Palimony? What palimony?!”

Wilhelm looked flabbergasted, taken back for a moment before he smirked, laughing to himself at the glorious opportunity that had just presented itself.

‘Perhaps things have turned in my favour.’

“Have you truly gone mad with greed, Clarissa? Are you so desperate for the wealth of the Crown? How embarrassing. This is truly unbecoming of you.”

“On the contrary, Crown Prince Willis,”

From the crowd, a new, but very familiar face emerged.

“Wilhelm!”

“Willy,”

“WILHELM!”

“Whatever,”

With a single dismissive hand, the black sheep of the Vanderwood family, Rebecca Vanderwood, waved him off, settling in her spot beside Clarissa. The blonde suited young lady was not one to remember names, and did not certainly care to remember the ones of the people who she disliked.

‘Where did I – ah.’

Pulling a piece of paper from the inner pockets of her dark blazer, Rebecca held it up clearly for all eyes in the room to see. Similarly, to the Crown Prince, most of the people were confused by the suddenly appearance of this new document and what it was supposed to mean. But that was not the reaction she had wanted to see, no –

From the corner of her eyes, she could see the King’s face go white upon recognition. He knew exactly what this new document would mean, and it was precisely the reaction she had wanted to see.

Fully unfolding the document in her hand, Rebecca turned back to Wilhelm as she gestured to the item.

“Now look here, you.”

She jabbed a finger directly at him.

“This is the palimony that your father, His Royal Highness, the King, has agreed to pay the Archibald family if you were to ever break off the engagement as a form of monetary compensation.”

Rebecca grinned, victoriously.

“Which, as of a mere few seconds ago, is exactly what just happened.”

Chapter Text

When he had first set out to execute his plan of annulling his engagement and convicting Clarissa of her crimes earlier this night, Wilhelm Dale the Third, could have never predicted that things would have turned out this way.

“What?!”

A crisis has come.

‘A palimony agreement!?’

Wilhelm was stunned, he had never heard of such an agreement like this coming into existence. Yet, what was more shocking to him was the fact that the Crown had been involved.  

“My father?”

“That’s right.”

Rebecca smiled, cheerfully as she gestured once more the crucial document in her hand.

“This right here is an official agreement,”

She guided the Crown Prince’s attention more specifically to a section of the document, where the Royal family’s distinguished star emblem was clearly stamped in fine red wax for all to see. It was undeniable proof of his father’s involvement.

“And if you can’t read, their names are right here on the top in fine print, you damn prick.”

He refused to believe it.

‘No, it can’t be.’

“It must be a fake.”

That was the only logical explanation for it, there was no other way.

For the longest time, his father had never even once discussed with him about his engagement to Clarissa in the slightest, nor even concerned himself with matters aside from those that were key to the Kingdom’s affairs.

“My father would never; how dare you create a forgery like this! It is a crime against the Crown. I ought to have you thrown into prison, and your family stripped of their title for this.”

Within the crowd of observing nobles, one spectating Jonathan Vanderwood silently clutched his chest in anguish as he felt a part of his soul disintegrate.

The poor young man always knew that his elder sister’s outlandish behaviour would get her in big trouble someday, but with the threat of the fall of their family name before them, the Vanderwood heir could only pray that Rebecca had something planned to refute the Crown Prince’s claims.

And indeed, she did.

‘I thought you might say that.’

“Oh, so you believe it is a fake, do you?”

Wilhelm crossed his arms across his chest defiantly, he was certain.

“It must be.”

“So then, there is no absolute way that an official document like this was approved by the Holy Temple, yes? So, this signature and stamp of approval by the Archbishop must be a forgery then?”

If one was to look closely, you could almost see a fox-like tail poking out from behind her, swishing at her every word.

“Well, of course.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind then if I asked the Archbishop himself if he signed and gave his approval to this document?”

“Ye – wait, what?”

But Rebecca was already on the move, disappearing from his sight within seconds.

From the crowd of attendees, a single elderly man took that as his cue to leave.

It was not often that an elder man such as himself would take time off to attend grand events like these, but when you receive a personal invitation from the King, himself, it would have been much too rude to decline the invite. However, from the way the night’s events have gone so far, he could not help but suspect that his sudden invitation might not have been out of common courtesy after all, or even from the King at hand.

‘Time to quietly leave.’

Or at least he had tried to, until he came face to face with an overly familiar blond-haired young lady. One that he had prayed so hard to avoid.

As her grand smile widened, he felt his soul age ever so slightly. He knew that smile, nothing good ever came out of it for him.

“Good evening, Archbishop, what a lovely night it is! Would you be so kind but to take a close look at this document for me? Tell me, does it look familiar to you?”

“Well, yes. It does.”

“So, it is fair to say that you were very much aware about this Palimony agreement between the Archibald family and the King, and even officially acted as the witness to its creation, as signified by your stamp of approval and signature.”

As all eyes in the Grand ballroom focused on the pair, the grey bearded man could not help but sigh.

“That would be correct.”

“Excellent! Thank you for your testimony, good sir.”

As Rebecca walked away, the Archbishop let out a grateful sigh of relief, pleased to know that her focus has turned back to Wilhelm. For a moment, the older man contemplated whether he should enact his plan to finally escape, yet from the way Rebecca had smiled oh so sweetly at him, he feared for what was to come to him if he did try.

It was evidently clear to him that his role in whatever this was, was far from over.

“And now that we know that this document is very much legitimate, much to a certain individual’s contestation, shall we now go to the additional sub-clauses of the agreement?”

“Additional sub-clauses of agreement?”

With a flick of her wrist, the document in Rebecca’s hand unfolded to reveal a much longer length that it was originally suggested to be.

“Why yes, in addition to the main clause of this agreement, where the party that chooses to dissolve the Royal engagement must pay the other as a form of reparation, there are additional supplementary side factors that we must address in order to figure out how much you must pay Lady Clarissa as a whole.”

“That is absurd!”

“It’s what the King has agreed to, is it not, Your Majesty?”

Rebecca turned her attention to the back of the room, where the King sat in silence. His face an expressionless picture, giving nothing away.

From beside him, the Queen sent worried glances to her husband but he did not say a word to her either. It was clear that she too had been left in the dark in regards to this palimony agreement.

“Father, surely you did not agree to such an illogical contract?”

Silence.

Even to his own son, he did not speak a word or answer.

“And yet, his signature and the stamp of the official Crown is ever present on this document.”

Rebecca mused; she couldn’t say that she was very surprised by His Majesty’s silence. After all, he probably never expected the agreement to ever be enacted with the planned wedding coming up so soon.

As he stared at his father, Wilhelm could no deny the young lady’s statement as his hands clenched into tight balled fists. How did the night turn out like this? It was not what he had wanted to happen.

Furious at the turn of events, the young Crown Prince turned his anger elsewhere – to a very familiar thorn at his side.

“You,”

His eyes narrowed furiously at Clarissa, the person that should have been at the receiving end of tonight’s condemnation. The wicked woman who should have been in tears by now, or in shackles at least.

If the night had gone the way he had initially planned it, Clarissa would already be gone – exiled and banished from the Kingdom, and he would be happy, celebrating the start of his new life with Lisa, the love of his life.

But no, the events of the night had strayed too far from what he had originally hoped it to be.

‘This is all your fault; it wasn’t supposed to be this way.’

“How shameless of you to have even come up with an agreement like this!”

“Now, now, Your Highness, no need to become so disgustingly brutish.”

Stepping into his line of sight, Rebecca waddled a disapproving finger as she obstructed his view of Clarissa, standing between the two.

‘She’s not your opponent tonight, I am.’

“After all, as I have repeatedly said before, Lady Clarissa was not the one who ordered the creation of this contract, your father was. And it was very much with the intention of protecting you.”

‘Too bad he had too much faith that his son wouldn’t pull an UNO reverse card on him but jokes on him.’

“Now, for the additional sub-clauses,”

She did not even give him a chance to speak, immediately reading out the term for all ears in the ballroom to hear.

“Sub-clause one: ‘If the person is proven of cheating, or have acquired another lover, they must compensate an additional sum of payment to recompense the other party for causing emotional trauma by infidelity and breaking the engagement. If the case is both, in which the guilty party is found to be cheating with a new lover, the fee would be doubled.’”

Wilhelm gulped nervously as he felt Rebecca’s sharp gaze on him, it was clear to him what her verdict on this sub-clause would be.

“Now, seeing as how quickly the Crown Prince has already deemed Lady Lisa Silverstone as his new fiancée, it is evidently clear not only to me, but to everyone in this room that you have been rather unfaithful to Lady Clarissa.”

“I – “

“Did you, or did you not just declare Lady Lisa Silverstone to be your new fiancée?”

Like a rat imprisoned in a maze, it felt as though he was trapped against an impenetrable wall. One that he could not escape without giving the truth. Wilhelm gulped as the young man had no choice but to give her the answer she wanted.

“Yes. I did.”

Rebecca nodded, satisfied with his answer.

“Good. Then unless you have suddenly just magically met her this very night, your infidelity is clear as day, and you are very much guilty of breaking sub-clause one.”

Turning her attention on to the next agenda, Rebecca smiled.

“Sub-clause two: ‘The other party must agree to the engagement annulment before public knowledge, or else the breaking party must pay compensation for causing shock and public embarrassment from the sudden annulment.’”

“Well, I – “

“Considering that Lady Clarissa only just learnt of the engagement annulment at the same time as every wonderful person in this room due to your very public announcement, I regret to inform you, Your Majesty, that you have also broken this sub-clause.”

‘That’s a lie! You don’t look remorseful in the slightest!’

And Rebecca wasn’t, as the young lady proceeded to continue reading out the following sub-clause.

“Sub-clause three: ‘The other party and their family must be informed of the annulment at least a week in advance or face paying compensation for completely disrespecting the other party.’”

Needless to say, the verdict was also evidently clear from the earlier events of the night.

“Definitely broken. As you call all see from the King and Queen’s shocked expressions, it is clear that the Crown Prince had not even informed his own dear parents of his ambitious to annul his engagement because if he had, then I’m quite certain that our glorious King and Queen would have been courteous enough to inform Duke Archibald and his family (which they had not) of an annulment.”

Wilhelm looked to his parents as he bowed his head in shame; he had not intended to embarrass or disgrace them in any sort of manner.

“Father, mother, I – “

“We will discuss this matter later.”

Wilhelm flinched from the cold glare his father sent him, the only response he had gotten from his father all night. It was clear that he would be harshly reprimanded for his actions later in private.

“Indeed, we still have one final sub-clause to go through, and I do believe that it is a matter that needs to be addressed.”

‘My, she never changes.’

From behind her fan, Clarissa could not help but sigh as she watched Rebecca read out the final statement of the palimony agreement.

“Sub-clause four: ‘If one party slanders the other party following the annulment, through means of declaring false accusations and lies, then they must pay the other party a compensation for disrespecting and damaging the other’s public image and reputation.’”

It was a relevant clause indeed.

“I do believe the accusations that you had presented against Lady Clarissa prior to this was rather slanderous, if I must say so myself.”

“Now, just one minute!”

Now, he acknowledged that he had been rather guilty of obliviously breaking the past three sub-clauses and accepted it, but there was no way that he would accept that he was in the wrong for condemning Clarissa.

“They were not accusations and lies in the slightest, they were the truth.”

Wilhelm stood his ground, determined to ensure that he would at least get justice for his new bride-to-be. He would not let Clarissa go unpunished for her cruel deeds.

Rebecca was amused, but undeterred by Wilhelm’s refusal. She expected it after all.

Tucking her arms behind her back, the young lady calmly smiled as she began to circle him.

“Oh, now is that what you truly believe?”

Her eyes flickered to the quiet young lady behind Wilhelm, one who had suddenly become very silent recently despite her outburst earlier in the night.

On the other hand, Wilhelm simply stared at Rebecca in disbelief from her response.

‘Is she deaf?’

“Of course! You and everybody else present in this very room heard the witness testimonies that were presented.”

Rebecca nodded, seeming to accept his response but it didn’t mean that she didn’t question it.

“But there is a very big difference between hearing and seeing, Your Highness. Then again, it is very true that there was also a large amount of substantial evidence against Lady Clarissa.”

“Indeed, there was.”

Wilhelm agreed, confidently as he crossed his arm in satisfaction that she finally understood his point.

“So then, why don’t we see for ourselves what actually happened?”

Chapter Text

If there was one thing that Rebecca remembered clearly from her past life, it was four criterions that all evidence presented in the courtroom must adhere to: reliability, accuracy, repeatability and validity. Of course, they were mostly the standards that were applied to forensic evidence, but nevertheless it was something that she always kept in her mind when going about her everyday life. After all, she was a young lady that thrived off the truth, and very much hated lies.

Especially those that were created with the intention to hurt others.

“But the evidence has already been given.”

Rebecca nodded.

“Yes, your evidence.”

She pointed an indicative finger back at him.

“Now, who is to say that your evidence is the ‘truth’? How are we to know that the evidence and testimonies presented by your witnesses were not tampered with or fabricated for the sole intention of incriminating Lady Clarissa?”

“Who’s to say that what you might show us might not have been made-up by you!”

It was a fair point, one that even Rebecca could not deny.

“That’s very true, perhaps the evidence I may present might have been invented like you said so,”

Wilhelm opened his mouth to speak but Rebecca continued her sentence, immediately cutting off his opportunity to spout whatever foolish illogical nonsense that was to come out of his mouth. Whatever it was, she would like to spare herself the misery of hearing it.

“But unfortunately, that is not the case here. In fact, I have no evidence on me at all to even disprove the possibility that your accusations may be false.”

“Exactly!”

“Which is why I suggest we should all use this to look into the past and see what actually happened at the time of the crimes.”

At that, she pulled out a clear glass orb from within her blazer pocket as she held the magical artefact out for everyone to see.

“Isn’t that?”

“How is it possible?”

Appearance wise, it was a simple crystal ball, a single magical artefact amoungst many.

“That item, you stole that didn’t you!”

However, it was an item Rebecca had learnt very early on was not as common as it appeared to be.

Despite the Kingdom of Orion’s reliance on magic and the Holy Temple, magical artefacts (such as an unassuming crystal ball) were highly regarded items that could only be used by their chosen owners who have undergone rigorous training within the Holy Temple. Most who remained within the walls of the Holy Temple and its complementary offices.

“Don’t be daft. You cannot steal an item given to you, that would be simply impossible.”

Wilhelm looked unconvinced.

“So, you claim with absolute certainty that that very magical artefact in your hand is very much in fact yours?”

It was the King this time who had spoken. In all honesty, she didn’t blame him for being so sceptical. It was a valid question, after all, it was a serious crime, one punishable by death, to steal a magical artefact from the Holy Temple.

“I don’t claim so, Your Highness. I know so.”

The Queen still did not look persuaded.

“And how are we to know that you truly are the rightful owner of that magical artefact?”

It was expected that there would still be reservation when it came to her ownership, especially since magical artefacts can only be wielded by people who had a minimum of at least three years of training with the Holy Temple – something that the Queen doubted that Rebecca actually had. After all, Rebecca has been attending the Celestial Academy for the past three years.

And it was merely unimaginable to the Queen that a young lady with such a controversial reputation, such as Rebecca Vanderwood, would be able to balance the heavy demands of Holy Temple training and academic classes at the same time.

But of course, she did expect this.

“Archbishop, if you could please.”

Finding himself in the spotlight once more, the Archbishop sighed. He supposed he did partially have a hand in this, and did have to explain the situation himself.

“If I may, Your Highness, Lady Rebecca is… per say… an exception... I believe that I can verify that the magical artefact does very much belong to Lady Rebecca as it was bestowed upon her during her time with the Holy Temple (despite the fact she never completed her nunnery training, for good reasons being).”

He could feel himself starting to get a migraine just upon thinking about it. It was a period of time that he wished not to remember, for the greater sake of his sanity and blood pressure.

“And there you go. This item does belong to me, dumbass.”

Rebecca smiled, holding up her item as she directed the last jab to Wilhelm.

“Y – you!”

“But how are we know that what we see won’t be a fabrication? After all, the item belongs to Lady Rebecca, who we all know happens to be close friends with Lady Clarissa.”

‘And at last, the Lisa Leech speaks.’

“A fair point. Archbishop?”

Sighing, the old man turned to Lisa.

“I can very much assure you, Lady Lisa, that what will be displayed cannot be tampered with in the slightest. The item that Lady Rebecca owns was merely created for the sole purpose of viewing, and will only show us events that have taken place in the past at specific times and dates when asked. It is absolutely impossible to alter what is shown because it was created from the tear of a truth dragon.”

‘One that was beaten into submission…’

“Exactly. Which is precisely why this magical artefact and I are suitable for each other, because I like to seek the truth. I like to know things and witness them first-hand for myself before I make a judgement because sometimes appearances can be very deceiving.”

“Lady Rebecca, don’t you think His Majesty and I are well matched?”

‘Well hasn’t she gotten quite chatty.’

Rebecca glanced between the pair before her, drifting between Wilhelm’s idiotic and proud face to Lisa’s determined expression as the smaller lady tightly hugged his arm beside her.

“Well yeah,”

Lisa’s face brightened, her mouth opening to speak.

“Then – “

“You’re both an unbelievable pain in the arse and absolutely aren’t above manipulating people to get what you want.”

Her mouth clamped shut. Whatever it was that Lisa had tried to say at that moment immediately died out in her throat as the young red head found herself at a complete loss of words.

But Rebecca was not done giving her opinion of the pair. No, she was far from it.

‘You politely asked me what I think about you both, well Lisa Leech, I shall graciously tell you what I think about you two.’

“You both think that you’re above the law, him because of his ‘title’ and you because of your flimsy hold on Willa – “

“WILHELM!”

“– over there. But you’re both mistaken because at the end of the day, nobody is above the law, and I will see to it that Justice preserves.”

Now, she was done.

“The only person I see here who thinks they’re above the law is you!”

Rebecca chuckled, her eyes turning to stare at him.

“Now, Wenston – “

“WILHELM!”

“– do you even know the laws of this very Kingdom?”

‘What sort of question was that!?’

“Of cours – “

“Then do me the joy of enlightening me, lay it all out for me. In fact, lay it out for all of us then.”

She gestured her arms out to the rest of the people in the room, all who keenly hung onto to her every word as their eyes intently flickered back to the blonde Crown Prince, waiting to hear his answer.  

“Tell me, Wilson, what law have I broken that gives you the impression that I act above it?”

She gave him a moment, waiting to hear a smart mouthed answer from him.

“Hmm?”

But with all attention of him, Wilhelm found himself struggling to reply to her. No matter how hard he racked his brain, he could not actually pinpoint a law that she had outright broken.

And she knew it.

“What’s this? Nothing to say? I thought so.”

Wilhelm glowered, furiously.

“Y- You!”

She waved him off, her eyes averting away as she cupped a hand to her ear.

“My, I never knew the wind could talk. What a slight breeze. Does anybody else feel a slight chill in here? Or is that just me?”  

To the many nobles that knew of her contentious reputation, it was absolutely amazing and an incredibly big mystery to them on how Rebecca Vanderwood had yet to be arrested so far for her hostile treatment towards the Crown Prince over the years. It was astounding what she was able to get away with saying to his face.

“Now, where were we before a little country weed tried to distract the flow of the conversation? Ah yes, the evidence.”

Rebecca smirked, her eyes sharply landing on a young lady in a baby blue dress as she gestured with a single finger for her to step forth.

“You, witness one.”

The young lady pointed at herself nervously, her brown eyes wide in surprise.

“Me?”

“Yes, you, come forth.”

Looking between the two, Lisa clasped her hands to her chest as she stepped forward to try and defend the young lady.

“Lady Rebecca, Lady Amelia has already – “

“Lady Amelia has testified as a witness to unproven accusations against the former Crown Princess candidate, a member of the Ducal Archibald house – one of the only three Ducal houses in the entire Kingdom of Orion. As she has already gotten herself implicated in this as a standing witness, it is only fair that I, as the representative of Lady Clarissa Archibald, be allowed to cross examine her testimony myself, is it not, Lady Lisa?”

Lisa flinched, completely taken back by the bluntness and sharp tone of Rebecca’s words.

“Unless, you happen to be hiding something that we all do not know about Lady Amelia, Lady Lisa?”

She shook her head rapidly, not daring to speak another word, which was completely fine because Wilhelm was already ready to give one on her behalf.

“My Lisa would never!”

‘Ah yes, the ever so clueless idiot in love.’

Rebecca smiled, sweetly.

“Then I guess that means I’ll just have to question Lady Amelia myself then? Since Lisa is most definitely not hiding anything.”

“Of course!”

‘Ah, how easy it all was sometimes.’

“Great! I’m glad to see that even someone as thick skulled as yourself is able to understand so, His Highness. Lady Amelia, please step forth to the centre.”

With the agreement of the Crown Prince to back up her demands, it was impossible for Amelia now back down.

The young lady apprehensively walked towards Rebecca, her shaking hands tightly clasping her fan. All the braveness that she had previously held before when giving her testimony about Clarissa had completely vanished. It was clear that Amelia never expected to get questioned about what she had said.

‘You didn’t think it would be that easy for you, did you?’

It was time for her counterattack to begin.

“Now, your testimony, what was it again? Ah, wait, I recall now: ‘On the Friday of the 3^rd of March, I stood witness as I watched Lady Clarissa take Lady Lisa’s belongings from her dorm room and throw them into the school fountain.’, yes?”

Amelia nodded, anxiously.

“That would be correct, Lady Rebecca.”

“And you wouldn’t happen to recall a specific time or time frame that this event that you had witnessed took place?”

For a moment, the young lady paused as she recollected her thoughts before replying.

“I believe it would have been a little before the start of lunch time, perhaps ten minutes.”

‘So... 11.50am.’

“I see. Talk us through the circumstances, Lady Amelia. Enlighten us a little bit more to the scene that you saw? Did you happen to see it right in front of you?”

“Well, I was walking towards the cafeteria from my dormitory hallway when something had caught my eye outside the window so I went to take a closer look. It was then that I saw Lady Clarissa throwing Lady Lisa’s belongings into the school fountain.”

Wilhelm smirked, triumphantly.

“See, even Lady – “

“But what makes you so certain that it was Lady Clarissa who was the person you saw? Did you see her face?”

Amelia was taken back by the question.

“Well, no, but – “

“So, if you didn’t even clearly see her face, then how would you know?”

“Well, her back had been turned to me, and I recognised her from her hair, Lady Rebecca. After all, Lady Clarissa’s hair is quite unique.”

That was true.

Dark brown hair that was the shade of burnt umber, a key genetic trait that was passed down only in the Duchy of Archibald. It was significant hair colour that could not be mistaken for another.

However, there were still other external influencing factors that had not been accounted for.

“But you did not see her face, Lady Amelia. In fact, if I recall correctly, the female dormitory rooms are located on the third floor of East building, where most of the windows happen to be quite obscured by the large oak tree that line the side of the garden pathways. In addition to the angle and distance of your view of the fountain, is it possible that you may have been mistaken, Lady Amelia? After all, that unique hair colour of Lady Clarissa’s which you believed to have seen may have simply been just a trick of the afternoon sunlight on your eyes.”

When she had put it that way, even the young lady herself had to take a quick moment to think.

“I – I suppose it could have been, Lady Rebecca.”

“Now tell me, how are you so certain that the items thrown into the fountain belonged to Lady Lisa?”

Lady Amelia looked up; her posture more confident now as she spoke.

“I had gone down to check myself what was in the fountain and had found her belongings with her name on it, which I had later returned to her.”

‘No hesitation there.’

With that, Rebecca turned to accused lady at hand.

“I see. So, tell me, Lady Clarissa, where exactly were you on the 3^rd March at 11.50am when all this supposedly transpired?”

Clarissa pondered for a moment, recalling the specific date at hand. There were a lot things that had happened in March, but if it was on that day, and during that time, then…

“Well, at that exact date and time, I do believe that I was delivering a presentation of the economic devastation to the Kingdom following the outcome of the recent war to a board of academic scholars.”

She was certain of it. It was a presentation that she had dedicated quite a lot of time into researching and preparing.

Rebecca nodded, accepting her answer.

“I see, well, let’s verify that then.”

She held up the magical artefact, the crystal floated upwards from her open palm. A bright blue glow emitted for the small orb as a magical circle of a similar shade appeared on the ground.  

“Show me Clarissa Archibald, date: 3^rd March, time: 11.50am.”

There was a swirl that formed within the crystal ball before a large image was projected before them. Within it was Clarissa, dressed from head to toe in her academy uniform as she stood at the podium of what was clearly the academy’s lecture theatre. Beneath the image, a boldened timestamp was visibly displayed: ‘03.03.XX – 11:50am’.

“And what do we know, there it is. Lady Clarissa was indeed giving a presentation at that very date and time, and therefore, has an alibi which means she could have never been the culprit who harassed Lady Lisa.”

It was indisputable. There was no way Clarissa could have been the culprit.

Immediately realising her grave mistake, Amelia dropped her head as she bowed lowly to Clarissa.

“My apologises, Lady Clarissa! I have committed a great offense! I did not know, and was tricked by what I had seen.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve committed a great offence indeed, Lady Amelia. However, I do believe that I would like to also verify your testimony now.”

Her head shot up as Amelia looked to Rebecca with confused eyes.

“M – my testimony?”

“Well, yes. Now that we know you had mistaken the culprit’s identity; I would like to confirm whether the act itself actually happened at all.”

In other words, she wanted to see if she was lying.

“Please, Lady Rebecca, I swear that my testimony is not a lie. I may have misidentified Lady Clarissa to be the culprit, but I truly did see somebody throw Lady Lisa’s belongings into the fountain.”

Rebecca shrugged before looking to her crystal ball once more.

“Show me Amelia Walkings, date: 3^rd March, time: 11.50am.”

Within seconds, another image was projected before their very eyes. In it, Amelia stood by a large window of the East building’s dormitory hallway as she stared out towards the academy’s fountain. The image played like a video as the perspective panned to follow her eyes, revealing the blurred outline of a perpetrator by the fountain. The individual moved quickly as it looked to be throwing things in before running away.  

“What do you know, you appear to have stand corrected. There is a culprit – who is not Lady Clarissa, that appears to have thrown Lady Lisa’s belongings into the fountain.”

“Yes.”

Placing a hand across her chest, Amelia felt a great sense of relief.

“You may return to your previous spot, Lady Amelia. Thank you for your time.”

Amelia nodded as she hurriedly made her way back to the crowd, grateful for it to be over.

Rebecca smiled as her eyes landed on the young brunette in the pink gown beside Amelia, a young lady who very much wanted to disappear from the crowd right now – her second victim witness.

“Lady Diana, if you would please step forth now?”

“Lady Rebecca, I – “

“Lady Lisa, I will not deny that you have indeed been harassed. However, it is not my objective right now to identify the culprit of your harassment. My objective right now is to determine the final amount of the palimony that His Highness will have to pay Lady Clarissa for breaking off the engagement. But due to rather insistent contestation to sub-clause four of the palimony agreement, that Lady Clarissa truly did harass and bully you… I am now currently cross examining the witnesses to prove whether or not these accusations are correct or wrong.”

The young red headed lady nodded silently, her eyes drifting to the floor as she scooted herself further behind Wilhelm. Much to Rebecca’s great surprise, it seems that the blonde-haired Crown Prince himself had nothing to say this time.

‘Good.’

It simply made things easier for her.

“With that being said, witness two, Lady Diana, please step forth.”

Chapter Text

The moment Amelia Walkings had stepped forth to answer Rebecca Vanderwood’s beckoning call, she had opened up a door so wide that it could not be shut. It was impossible; there was no way for the remaining witnesses to escape being cross examined now. Not unless they wanted to appear guilty of concealing some sort of secret, even if there was none.

Unable to see any other way out, Diana was left with no choice but to step forward into the spotlight just as Amelia hurriedly escaped it. She could understand why the young lady had been so desperate to leave it – it happened almost immediately.

The moment their attention shifted to her; she could not help but feel the pressure from being under the scrutinising gaze of the entire room. One that was so much worse than before.

The young brunette gulped, anxiously. Just what has she gotten herself into?

“Your testimony please,”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Diana gathered herself quickly before replying.

“On the 17^th of June, I saw Lady Clarissa push Lady Lisa down the main staircase of the school entrance and run away quickly from the scene.”

She relayed her statement, the very same one that she had told before.

“Ah yes.”

Rebecca nodded as she recalled the claim from earlier in the night.

“Now, just like Lady Amelia, could you please inform us of the circumstances leading up to the event you saw, Lady Diana?”

The young lady hesitated for a moment as her slender fingers fiddled with the fan in her hands, uneasily.

“Well, it occurred while I was on my way to the toilet; and I so happened to had seen Lady Clarissa passing by just as Lady Lisa was climbing up the staircase of the main entrance. But then…”

Her voice trailed off as she faltered, uncertain if she should continue.

“Go on, Lady Diana.”

Diana nodded, but turned her face ever so slightly away from Lady Clarissa out of fear of how the young woman would react. An action that did not go unmissed by Clarissa herself.

“… I heard a scream so I turned back, only to see Lady Lisa falling down the staircase as Lady Clarissa appeared to be hurriedly walking away from the scene. I ran to Lady Lisa to check on her well-being and had even asked her about what happened, but it appears that even Lady Lisa was relatively unsure about what had transpired. She seemed to be a bit dazzled by the fall.”

“And I am to presume that this all occurred during class time?”

“Yes, fifth period – I was having my history class in main building, and as you would know, the nearest toilet is the one closest to the main staircase.”

Rebecca hummed an agreement, recalling the said location in her mind. She was familiar with it.

“Of course, it is quite a distance from the classroom.”

Diana felt a sense of relief, agreeing earnestly with every said word.

“Yes, it was.”

‘Perhaps this would be over much more quickly than I thought.’

“But, Lady Diana, what makes you so certain that it was Lady Clarissa who had pushed Lady Lisa down the steps?”

The reassured smile on Diana’s face dropped almost immediately.

“Did you ever consider that perhaps the young lady could have missed a step and tripped on her own little chicken scratch feet? After all, it wouldn’t be the first time that she’s stumbled on her own and attempted to accuse Lady Clarissa of ‘harassment’, remember?”

She was at a loss of words, uncertain on how to respond as it was a validated point.

One justified by an incident that had occurred at the very beginning of the school year, where the newly arrived Lisa Silverstone had tripped over her own two feet while running and blatantly accused Clarissa, who was the student on Welcome duty by the entrance at the time (and the nearest person to her), of intentionally pushing her down in front of the entire student body. Unfortunately for Lisa however, multiple eye witnesses had come forth to defend Clarissa’s innocence after a student had pointed out seeing the young redhead stumble all by herself.

Though, Diana had not witnessed it first hand, she had certainly heard of it. When considering this incident in mind, she did have to doubt herself for a moment as she struggled to find the words.

“I – I suppose, but I’m certain with what I saw! There was nobody else within Lady Lisa’s reach, and even Lady Lisa had said it herself – “

“Said what? That Lady Clarissa had extended her arm out and pushed her?”

Rebecca pressed, interestedly.

“Well, perhaps she was a little overwhelmed from the fall but Lady Lisa had told me.”

“Told you what, Lady Diana?”

“… She told me that she felt as though a large force had come out of nowhere and pushed her back, and that it had all happened so quickly.”

‘Oh.’

Rebecca raised a brow, taking in the new piece of information.

“But what makes you so certain that that ‘large force’ was Lady Clarissa?”

The young lady gripped the helms of her dress skirt tightly, feeling frustrated by the endless doubts and questions.

“Because I saw Lady Clarissa standing in front of Lady Lisa as she fell, and she didn’t seem to care at all. She did not once seem concerned with Lady Lisa’s welfare in the slightest.”

Turning to the accused at hand, Rebecca directed her next question to her.

“And you, Lady Clarissa? Did you so happen to encounter Lady Lisa at the top of the main staircase of the school’s entrance on the 17^th of June, during fifth period?”

Clarissa paused and she recollected the date before answering.

“Well, I shall admit that I had been there on the 17^th of June during fifth period,”

Biasedly convinced of her guilt, Wilhelm took her unfinished statement as a clear admission of her guilt.

“You wen – “

He was cut off by the sharp claw-like ‘gentle’ grip of a hand on his shoulder as he heard a threatening ‘light’ reminder behind his ear.

“Anything you do and say, can and will be held against you, Your Highness.”

‘So, zip it.’

Satisfied that she got her message across, Rebecca released her grasp on the young man as she gestured for the young woman to continue.

“But I always walk that way on my Wednesday fifth periods.”

“Ah, yes. That is very true; you were on your way to your weekly private class then?”

“Yes, I was.”

It was no secret to anyone that Clarissa Archibald had separate private classes on Wednesday afternoons, ones that were completely unrelated to the school’s curriculum. As the young future Crown Princess-to-be, it was a necessary part of her royal training to complete in order to better prepare her for her future as Queen, to ensure that she would be the best suitable person to stand beside Wilhelm in near the future.

But unfortunately…

‘That all just went down the drain in the blink of an eye.’

Rebecca could only begin to imagine how much the Queen is silently seething in her seat at the amount of time and resources that had just gone to waste because of Wilhelm’s recklessly impulsive decision.

“And you’ve always used that path?”

“Ever since I’ve started schooling at the academy three years ago.”

“And Lady Lisa? On the 17^th of June?”

Rebecca inquired, her eyes meeting Clarissa’s dark green ones.

“I do not recall crossing paths with her on that day, however, I shall confess that I was a bit distracted that day.”

Now that piqued her curiosity.

Rebecca smirked, amused.

“Distracted? The perfect lady, Clarissa Archibald, distracted?”

If one were to peek behind her fan, they would see that the young lady’s cheeks were dusted a light pink as Clarissa turned away, mildly embarrassed.

“Well, I had received a package that morning. The sender was anonymous but item within it was fascinating.”

“Oh, how so?”

At that, Clarissa appeared to brightened immensely as she spoke, excitedly.

“It was the latest invention by Fletcher Innovations – a listening device that allowed me to listen to a selection of podcasts and commentaries.”

Suddenly, the picture was all starting to become a little clearer now.

“And you happened to be listening to one of these podcasts on your way to your private class?”

Clarissa nodded.

“I thought that I might as well enjoy my walk.”

‘Before you entered the Gates of Hell.’

The Royal advisors in charge of her royal training were infamous throughout the Kingdom for their strictness and stick-in-the mud attitudes.

“Understandable for a young lady who is scarce of free time, unlike a certain blonde-haired buffoon we all know.”

Smiling, Rebecca turned to the last piece of the puzzle, catching the young lady off guard.

“Now, Lady Lisa, why were you at the main staircase during fifth period?”

“I, too needed the toilet!”

Rebecca raised a brow, questioningly.

“At the same time as Lady Diana?”

It was a bit of a ridiculous rule, but Celestial Academy claimed that it was necessary to ensure that students received a fruitful education. Needless to say, school rules dictated that only one student per class were allowed to go to the toilet at a time.

“Lady Lisa and I are not in the same class, Lady Rebecca.”

Clarified Diana, allowing Rebecca to move on to her next question at hand.

“Then what class were you coming from, Lady Lisa?”

“It was alchemy.”

The redhead looked confident with her answer, almost proud.

‘…alchemy…’

The brows of Rebecca’s face knitted together in a furrow, as even Diana appeared to stare strangely at the young lady before them.

“So, you needed the toilet… and instead of using the toilet next to the alchemy lab (which is only a mere 34 steps away from the door), you decided to leave the West Tower, walk all the way to the other side of the campus and use the toilet in the school’s main building, Lady Lisa?”

“… yes.”

When said aloud, it sounded even more absurd. Something that almost all the nobles in the room could agree to, but of course…

“There’s nothing wrong with needing to use a toilet that you’re comfortable with, Lady Rebecca.”

‘Leave it to that imbecile to step into the role of the young lady’s knight in shining armour. ‘

Rebecca laughed, agreeing completely with the blonde Crown Prince as her face adorned a subtly strained smile.

“Indeed, Your Majesty. You would know, since you constantly seem to be doing that very same thing, often never returning to lessons until ten minutes before dismissal time.”

The Crown Prince flinched; he had not intended to oust himself either. From where he stood, he could feel the prickingly sensation of his mother’s sharp gaze behind his neck. It was clear that she would also be chewing him out on this as well.

He tried to save the moment.

“I – “

Unfortunately, he was not quick enough as Rebecca had already steered the attention of the room back to Lisa.

“So, you didn’t expect Lady Clarissa to be there at all, Lady Lisa?”

The little lady shook her head as her eyes drifted to Diana. 

“Not in the slightest, Lady Rebecca. I had only learnt about her presence when Lady Diana had told me.”

‘A fair point.’

“I see. Well, I suppose there’s not delaying it any further, show me Diana Hughes, date: 17^th June, time: 15:00pm.”

Similarly, to the times before, the magical artefact lit up to reveal an image of Diana’s history classroom, the young brunette lady in clear view as she sat amoungst her peers. She did not appear to plan on getting up any time soon.

“You wouldn’t happen to be able to recall the time you went to the toilet, would you, Lady Diana?”

As she spoke, her eyes never looked away from the now moving image.

Now, there were a lot of things a young lady like Diana prided herself in remembering, but recalling when her body needed to use the toilet was not one of them. Diana shook her head, sadly.

“I’m afraid not, Lady Rebecca.”

‘I expected as much.’

Rebecca waved her hand, dismissively at Diana.

“That’s fine, I’ll just have to speed it up.”

Reaching her right hand out, Rebecca muttered an indistinguishable incantation beneath her breath as her open palm lit up faintly. Her hands faintly glowed as she held it out in front of her crystal ball.

If her spectators (minus the Archbishop) were curious to know about what she was saying, it was quickly forgotten as their eye found themselves distracted, following the projected video that was now rapidly moving across the air.

Her eyes remained focused on the screen, watching Diana’s movements carefully before she saw a faint trace of the young lady’s hand shoot up. Grinning to herself, Rebecca dispelled the incantation as the video resumed its initial slower pace. 

“Here we are.”

And as she had suspected, it was indeed the time Diana had decided to leave for the toilet. The time read: 15.16pm.

Almost everybody within the hall held their breaths as they watched the following scenes unfold.

Like Diana had said, as she walked past the entrance staircase, both Lisa and Clarissa were seen in plain sight – one hurriedly climbing up the steps, whilst the other walked passed the top of the stairs…

As she turned to look away, there was a sudden shriek.

Diana’s head whipped back as she watched as Lisa fall back, her body rolling down the last few steps of the foot of the staircase before landing on the ground. Turning back to the top, only the back of Clarissa’s profile was observed as the young lady quickly walked away, disappearing from view. However, there was no denying the fact that Clarissa had indeed been standing in front of Lisa when she had fell.

It placed her at the scene of the crime, and seeing as she was the only one there – the most plausible suspect behind Lisa’s fall.

“Lady Lisa!”

Diana had run towards her as the young lady sat up before blinking for a moment. Confusedly, Lisa glanced around before looking to the brunette whom was extending a hand to her.

“Are you alright?”

“What – what happened?”

From there, the conversation went exactly as Diana had previously described it.

And Wilhelm loved it.

It was exactly what he needed right now to turn the night back around to how he wanted it to go. Seeing Rebecca silent, the young man took the rare opportunity to take back the attention of the room.

“There it is!”

Pointing back at the video, Wilhelm shot a fierce, accusing glance at his former fiancée.

“Undeniable proof of Clarissa’s wretched deeds against Lisa. We all saw what the artefact has shown us, and as the Archbishop has said: what we see is the truth.”

Unable to deny that, the elder man nodded silently in agreement.

“You see, she is guilty.”

“That certainly does appear to be case, doesn’t it?”

Wilhelm whipped his head to stare back at Rebecca, the young lady staring back at the evidence as she fiddled with her crystal ball, repeatedly rewinding the projection once more to watch again. He was seething as his fist clenched tightly.

‘The absolute gall of this woman!’

“Appears? Are you blind woman? Did you not just see what your own artefact had revealed to us all?”

“No, I did see it, Wizzletown.”

That much was obvious. 

‘After all, I have eyes too.’

“But… isn’t it a bit odd?”

Her comment had caught a few off-guard as many turned to their fellow neighbours in confusion, what did she mean?

Being curious herself, Diana spoke up as she stared questioningly at the young lady.

“What is, Lady Rebecca?”

Her right-hand halted its movement as the video paused, stopping at the point when Diana had come to Lisa’s aid.

“How Lady Lisa had managed to survive falling down that many steps to the very ground without so much of a scratch on herself? She even succeeded to sit up without a single wince of pain. It’s a miracle she didn’t break her neck and die from a fall of that height, is it not suspicious to you in the slightest?”

Diana opened her mouth to speak, but Rebecca was not done just quite yet. She pointed a directive finger back to the stairs, more specifically at the last step Lisa had walked on – the second one from the very top.

“Wouldn’t a fall of that sort, especially from a height of around eight meters and that many steps, lead to some sort of injury? Well, you said she was ‘dazzled’ but even a person who was confused would surely at least stumble a little bit when they stand up at first after falling from that height. Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Diana?”

When it was put in that perspective… Diana hesitated.

“Well, I do suppose…”

“Indeed. In fact, statistics (from an undisclosed source) show that falling from a stairwell of that height would have at least resulted in some sort of injury, such as traumatic brain injury (TBI), spinal cord damage, neck and back injuries, a sprain, dislocation or even internal organ damage and bleeding but yet… Lady Lisa was completely fine.”

Rebecca beamed as her eyes met with one anxious noble lady.

“She was somehow able to survive what could have been a tragic fall without a single sign of a nick on herself. It was as though she had been prepared… almost as if she knew that she was going to take a tumble down an incredibly high staircase on that very day.”

Wilhelm scowled, quickly catching on to her words.

“Are you implying that Lisa intentionally fell back?”

“Oh, I’m not implying at all – I’m most definitely saying that she did.”

Rebecca smirked at him. 

“If you play back the footage at a different angle, right… here, yes,”

She fiddled once more with her artefact, this time, changing the perspective of the angle of what Diana had seen.

‘A useful feature…’

She allowed the video to play from the top; only this time, the events unfolded very differently from what previously been shown.

The events all up to the moment Diana turned away occurred as previously seen, but everything else shown from the new angle revealed a startling difference – one that changed everything.

Clarissa had definitely crossed in front of Lisa before the young lady fell, but she did not react. From her emotionless straight face, it was fair to say that the young lady did not even appear to notice Lisa, despite being in such close proximity to her. As the redheaded lady’s foot struck the edge of the second last step, her body fell back to begin its descent.

However…

“If you look closely, you will see that Lady Clarissa never even once touched Lady Lisa.”

Clarissa had not pushed her.

“But I saw…”

Diana’s face paled, instantly realising the dire situation she had put herself in.

‘That’s not possible.’

“What you and all of us saw previously was a simple trick of perspective, Lady Diana. From the angle where you had stood, a specific perspective was created where Lady Clarissa and Lady Lisa appeared to be lined up in front of each other, thus giving you the impression that Lady Clarissa was standing before Lady Lisa. However, if you were to have moved just a few steps to the side, this illusion would have been broken and in doing so, revealing to you that Lady Clarissa had not been in front of her at all, but had moved passed her with her arms never once moving from its position.”

Yet, that didn’t explain the main issue.

“Then how did she fall?”

Rebecca grinned.

“She didn’t,”

The image paused before replaying. Only this time, it appears to have moved closer, focusing in on Lisa’s foot throughout the string of events.

“She kicked herself back on the last step, thereby creating that ‘large force’, and the illusion that she had been pushed down.”

‘A clever little trick she played.’

Yet, this was not enough to convince Wilhelm’s one-tracked, prejudiced decision.

“You zoomed in only at Lisa’s feet! If we see the bigger picture, wouldn’t there be a chance to see that Clarissa may have pushed Lisa down?”

The corners of Rebecca’s strained smile twitched in annoyance.

‘But she didn’t. That fact had already been established, you imbecile.’

“We could, you blind bastard, or we could do better and see what Lady Clarissa had seen – show me Clarissa Archibald, date: 17^th of June, time: 08:00am.”

“8am?”

Diana appeared confused.

“I would like to clarify Lady Clarissa’s testimony.”

The image changed to reveal an already dressed Clarissa in her dormitory room, prepared to start her day as the young lady grabbed the necessary books for her morning classes. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, a noise that rung out loud and clear. The young darked haired lady paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder and back to her door.

“Yes, who is it?”

There was no reply.

Placing her books down, she made her way to the door. First, quickly checking through the peephole… only to find an empty hallway. As she pulled away, a single brow rose before she checked once more; only this time, she noticed something else. Unfastening her door lock, she opened the door to reveal a small brown box outside waiting for her.

She didn’t pick it up, not immediately at least. The young lady did a sweep of her surroundings, looking left and then to the right – but there was nobody in sight. Cautiously, she picked up the box and removed the cover to reveal a device, the Fletcher Innovations logo smoothly printed in clear view. There was a piece of paper; instructions on how to operate the item… however, there was no card or any indication to whom had sent it.

“As we can all see, Lady Clarissa did indeed receive an anonymous gift.”

Clarissa nodded in agreement.

“Now, skip to time: 15:00pm.”

The perspective was still focused on Clarissa.

Within the projection, Clarissa was seen gathering her books, excusing herself from her class at the time to attend her private lesson. As the young lady exited the classroom, she paused in her steps as she dug the listening device out from her uniform pockets. Shrugging to herself, she placed them into her ears as she operated the device.

Almost imminently, the surroundings around Clarissa changed as the natural sounds of the outdoors echoed throughout the grand ballroom. It flickered for a moment, her environment changing every few seconds to reveal the overlapping scenes of the school’s hallway and a remote woodland forest.

“What’s happening?”

Confused by the constantly changing scenery, Diana’s brows creased together.

“We are simply being shown what Lady Clarissa had seen at the time – the realistically immersive illusionary world created by the listening device in her ear. Yet because Lady Clarissa is also moving as the device is in use, the artefact cannot help but also show us the real world (outside of the illusion) as she travels. Thereby creating the overlapping scenes that we are seeing.”

Rebecca clarified, bluntly. She was mildly impressed herself with the immersive aspect of the device.

‘It really did live up to its expectation of submerging you in a completely new world.’

“I believe that it would be fair to say that Lady Clarissa did not even see Lady Lisa at all, proving not only my hypothesis, but also that the young lady at hand is completely innocent against this slanderous claim.”

She turned to Diana, bobbing her head in an indicative direction towards Clarissa.

“I do believe you owe somebody an apology, Lady Diana.”

She dropped her head down lowly, her hands clasped the helms of her dress as she bowed. She couldn’t believe the turn of events; even more so, the honest mistake she had made, and only because she just so happened to be at the wrong place in the wrong time.

Diana felt ashamed for herself.

“Greatest apologises, Lady Clarissa! I did not mean to accuse you of such a crime, I had been deceived by my very own eyes. Please forgive me!”

“You are forgiven, Lady Diana.”

As much as she despised the compromising situation that their mistakes had put her in, Clarissa was not so petty to hold a grudge against her. After all, it was an honest mistake, one that conveniently played right into the hands of her pesky former groom-to-be.

Diana let out a sigh of relief, glad to know that her reputation would at least live to see another day. She placed a calmed hand on her chest.

“Thank you, Lady Clarissa. Thank you for forgiving this foolish lady.”

“Speaking of foolish ladies… this brings up the question;”

Rebecca spoke up, her curious gaze falling on a certain little lady as Lisa unconsciously took a step back.

“Why did you lie, Lady Lisa?”

She had the audacity to look shocked by the accusation.

‘Somebody should really give this girl the Kingdom’s equivalent of an Oscar award, because by gods, she deserved it.’

“Why did you fabricate the illusion that Lady Clarissa was the perpetrator behind your fall?”

“Whatever do you mean, Lady Rebecca. It was Lady Diana that had told me about Lady Clarissa.”

Upon hearing her name mentioned, Diana paled once more, clearly terrified to have found herself involved in the narrative again.

‘Unfortunately, that little misdirection won’t work this time.’

Rebecca was determined to steer the interrogation back on her.

“You claim that a ‘large force’ had come out of nowhere and knocked you down, but from the evidence shown by my artefact it appears that you had chosen to conveniently forget the very fact that it was you who had created that ‘large force’ when you decided to jump off the edge of the step, propelling yourself back into the air as you dropped down the steps.”

Shaking her head vehemently, Lisa denied Rebecca’s statement.

“It was an accident, Lady Rebecca – I must have taken a misstep just like you had said.”

A single doubtful brow rose.

“And you coincidently just so happened to take a ‘misstep’ after Lady Clarissa, who you claim to not have noticed, walked right past you?”

Tearfully, the young lady nodded. Her hands coming to her face to wipe at her tears as her words spilled quickly out of her mouth.

“Y - yes. Perhaps I had seen her but was so shocked that I tripped, and forgot about it when I hit the ground.”

Before she could say anymore, Wilhelm’s outstretched arm pushed the young lady behind him, protectively. The blonde man turned his furious glare back at Rebecca who simply tsked at the interruption.

‘Stubborn as a weed that one.’

“That’s enough from you. Do you have no shame in yourself? How cruel of you, Lady Rebecca. Don’t you see that you are simply pressuring dear Lisa into agreeing with your delusional assumptions? Can’t you see how much you have shaken her up?”

He wrapped his arms around Lisa’s (now) shaking shoulders as the young lady took the opportunity to bury herself in his chest as he hugged her, rubbing her back comfortingly in an intimate manner.

Rebecca scoffed at the display.

“You mean like what you had attempted to do to Lady Clarissa earlier in the night, Your Highness? When you painted your former fiancée as a villainess, and attempted to condemn her for her ‘cruel actions’ which were proven to actually be false and baseless misconceptions?”

Wilhelm opened his mouth in an attempt to retort, but of course Rebecca did not give him the opportunity to do so, as she continued to speak, justifying her actions, curtly.

“Regardless, I am simply giving Lady Lisa a chance to explain her side of the story. After all, one would really wonder if this was all accidental, or intentional to begin with.”

“It was an accident!”

Lisa’s aggravated face looked back at her from within her protective hold.

Rebecca chuckled, smiling as she stared back at her.

“Then why were you wearing a protective body suit beneath your uniform, Lady Lisa?”

“W- What?”

Her orbs widened in pure surprise.

“Protective… body suit?”

Wilhelm’s brows wrinkled as a disordered expression crossed onto the Crown Prince’s face.

‘Gotcha.’

“I shall admit, the female uniform does an excellent job of covering the female body, especially with the length and coverage of its skirt and sleeves. To be fair, it was only by chance that I had noticed it.”

Her hands tinkered once more with her artefact as she proceeded to pause the image and zoom in at a specific little detail.

“This.”

Diana’s eyes enlarged in recognition.

“Isn’t that?”

Rebecca nodded as she smiled at the familiar image, one that most nobles whose families were involved in business would come to recognise.  

“The Franklin Company logo, stitched very smally into the ankle of the protective body suit that Lady Lisa just happened to be wearing.” 

Amused, Rebecca turned her attention back to Lisa, her tears all dried up now.

“You know, it really got me thinking for a moment, Lady Lisa – how was it that a young lady of your build, who likes to give off the dishonest impression of a frail delicate flower, survive such a devastating roll like that and come out of it completely unharmed? But then I recalled something… Silverstone Constructions – your stepfather, Baron Silverstone’s company.”

An expression of apprehension settled across Lisa’s face as she tensely spoke.

“What about my father’s company?”

“Although it’s not as common in the Capital due to the quick availability of immediate protection spells and blessings from the Holy Temple, it must be very common in the countryside, such as the exact territory where your family resides, for construction workers to wear protective body suits when working on site. And knowing the innovative market of the Kingdom of Orion, is it not only the Franklin Company that supplies protective body suits to territories outside the Capital?”

The inquiry at hand caused a buzz amoungst the nobles in the room, many who could not help but consider the information presented to them.

‘So what?’

Unfortunately, the Crown Prince did not see the relevance of the point, frowning as he sneered at the statement.

“It’s just a piece of clothing.”

‘There’s nothing to make such a big fuss about.’

“Oh, it’s so much more than just a piece of clothing, Your Highness.”

Laughed Rebecca, undoubtedly entertained by his sheer display of ignorance. One that was useful for shifting opinions around the room.

“Fashioned as a nude one piece, it is often worn beneath construction uniforms or clothes in territories outside the Capital to protect the human body. The material itself was purchased from the Holy Temple, and had been given an incredibly powerful holy blessing to protect the wearer. Correct, Archbishop?”

The elder man nodded, surprised that his presence was still needed at this point as Rebecca glanced back to him, anticipatingly waiting for him to explain more.

It took him a moment to catch on to her piercing stare.

“Ah yes. One so powerful that the wearer of the item would be able to withstand heavy weights and sudden impacts, its purpose is to keep them safe from accidents on sites and to protect their bodies from misfortunate incidents…”

Clarissa’s eyes narrowed, sharply.

“Like a fall…”

“Precisely, Lady Clarissa.”

‘She caught on quickly as expected.’

“Now, as the stepdaughter of a construction company owner, I think it would be very easy for Lady Lisa to get her hands on one herself, but my question now is why? Why was Lady Lisa wearing a Franklin Company-made protective body suit?”

Rebecca questioned, inquisitively.

“Because I felt like it that day.”

“But why that day? The very same day that Lady Clarissa received an immersive listening device that has yet to be released in the market – one which just so happen to be manufactured by a subsidiary company of the establishment that also made your protective body suit.”

Lisa shrugged, offhandedly.

“A mere coincidence, Lady Rebecca. After all, it’s a small world out there.”

She was calm, too calm for Rebecca’s taste. It was suspiciously too much of a drastic change from the previous actions she had presented so far tonight.

“I think not, Lady Lisa.”

Rebecca shook her head, unconvinced of her answers.

“So, this brings us back to one of my earlier questions: was it intentional? Did you intend on manufacturing a false harassment event against yourself that you would then pin on Lady Clarissa?”

“I – “

She chuckled beneath her breath, holding up a single hand as she stopped her in her speech.

“Oh, I wasn’t asking you, Lady Lisa.”

Rebecca’s eyes shifted to the right, as her upheld hand moved to align itself with the direction of her gaze, pointing specifically at the person standing behind her.

“I would like to ask the young lady over there – your third testimonial witness and the heiress to the corporation that manufactured your protective body suit, and the unreleased listening device that was given to Lady Clarissa; Lady Felicia Dahnes, I do believe that my last question was very much directed towards you.”

Current situation in a nutshell:

Disclaimer: The original images of the memes are not mine and do not belong to me.

However, the names and their respective story characters are original and do belong to me.

Chapter Text

She felt her heart go cold.

“M – me?”

Felicia Dahnes had just barely managed to squeak out a reply. From how fast it was beating, the anxious young lady felt as though her heart might burst out from her chest at any moment now. She hated it, she hated how the attention of the whole room had fallen on her now.

Rebecca nodded back at her, smiling as the young lady dropped her pointed hand, deciding instead to tuck it behind her back while she spoke.

“Now the listening device that Lady Clarissa received, am I correct in identifying it as the latest invention to be produced by your family’s subsidiary company, Fletcher Innovations? A sound enhancing device that is marketed to be so immersive when in use that the listener would not even realise what goes on in the outside world around them, as all other senses are greatly reduced (and most definitely should never be worn when crossing a busy street or driving), correct?”

The freckled woman bobbed her head in agreement.

“And it was not supposed to have been leaked to the public before its launch three month from now?”

Biting her bottom lip, Felica could not deny Rebecca’s statement as she nodded once more.

Raising a brow questioningly, Clarissa raised her hand to ask a question.

“Pardon my interruption, Lady Rebecca, but if this invention is not supposed to be launched yet… then how did you identify it so easily within a single glance?”

‘Ah.’

“The final design may have yet to have been revealed, but the initial blueprint, design and concept of it had already been made public knowledge when the Dahnes family purchased the ownership rights to sell the device in the market. In doing so, creating a storm of rumours about the latest product that spread to all open ears in the Kingdom.”

‘Mine included.’

Satisfied with her response, Clarissa appeared to accept the answer with ease.

“I see… that would certainly explain why I had never even noticed Lady Lisa coming up the stairs.”

Rebecca hummed a small tone of agreement.

‘It truly was an extraordinary device, one that is considered a major advancement in this world.’

“Indeed, you were very much caught up in the world created by the device, Lady Clarissa – a good point for you by the way, Lady Felicia because it just proves that your family is not guilty of false advertising. Unfortunately, what’s not so good for you, is that Fletcher Innovations and the Franklin Company has now all tragically become implicated in accusations against the Dukedom of Archibald. The Duchy with the strongest hold on the merchants and business trade market.”

‘A fatal business miscalculation, one that would certainly cost them.’

And Felica understood that very well herself.

Lisa could see the colour draining from the young lady’s face, speaking up, she tried to intervene.

“Lady Rebecca, it’s – “

“Lady Lisa, if you’re going to tell me that this is once again ‘a mere coincidence’, I would advise you to stop right there. Yes, the first time, it was perhaps ‘a mere coincidence’ as you have said. But when it happens again, and again… you cannot help and wonder why these little coincidences keep happening, and when you do… you start to realise that things are never what they appear to be.”

Rebecca cut her off, sharply before turning to the two young ladies whom she had previously cross examined.

“Wouldn’t you agree so too, Lady Diana? Lady Amelia?”

The two looked to the other, their eyes uncertain of how to respond but then again, Rebecca did have a point there.

“Well, yes...”

“I do suppose so.”

The blonde suited young lady bobbed her head in agreement, pleased with the answers she received as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“Exactly. Now, Lady Felicia, I would like you to think very carefully about my question directed to you… But before you answer it, I would like to know something. Is the Dahnes family aware that you have brought an unreleased product to the academy?”

Felicia nodded in response.  

‘No sign of hesitation there.’

“Do they know that you have simply given it away to Lady Clarissa?”

“W – well yes, it was a gift, Lady Rebecca.”

Felicia explained, apprehensively. Still, no matter how much she tried to calm herself, she simply could not stop the shaking in her voice whenever she spoke.

Rebecca raised a quizzical brow.

“From the Dahnes family to the Duchy?”

“Y – yes, Lady Rebecca.”

“Then why did you not sign it? Why deliver it anonymously? I can hardly believe that the Viscount would allow you to simply send the gift without signing your family’s crest on the card, especially since it would not benefit your family in the slightest to remain unidentified. I’d imagine that your father would have preferred to be known since Fletcher Innovations is still relatively new to the inventions market.”

The young lady gulped, her hands clasping to her dress tightly.

“I – I was scared that Lady Clarissa would reject it if she knew it was from me.”

That was also a rather valid point.

“I see.”

In an aristocratical society such as this, where your family’s hierarchical status dominated over almost every aspect and action of your life, it was not uncommon for some upper ranked nobles to reject gifts from those lower than them out of the belief that it would not be worthy of them. The task of gifting itself was rather daunting and incredibly risky, especially if the gift did not live up to the receiver’s expectations, which would sometimes lead to the public humiliation of both the gift and sender. As cruel as it was, that was how the noble society just seemed to work sometimes.

In this case, coming from Felica Dahnes, the daughter from a Viscounty, it is understandable that a young lady like herself would have reservations when presenting a gift to Clarissa Archibald, the daughter of a Duchal House, and the Kingdom’s future Crown Princess. After all, you were sending a gift to the future Queen of the Kingdom.

Then again…

“But you know what I believe, I believe that that was not the case.”

Felicia’s eyes widened in surprise as she stared back at Rebecca, who simply shook her head and smiled. Rebecca met the young lady’s gaze, holding it as she spoke.

“An item like this, I’d imagine you had actually brought it with you for your own personal use during your time at the academy, but had been forcefully pressured into giving the device away to Lady Clarissa by Lady Lisa. And I wouldn’t blame you for doing so, Lady Lisa can be rather scary like that.”

Wilhelm was outraged by the sudden offensive claim, shouting as he did.

“Don’t be absurd. Why would Lady Felicia ever be terrified of my dear Lisa? She wouldn’t even dare to hurt a fly.”

‘Hurt a fly he says… if only he knew the truth.’

Scoffing, Rebecca turned her attention to the Crown Prince, jabbing a telling finger at the young lady nestled in his arms. One who had yet to speak up on the matter at hand, and didn’t seem to plan on doing so any time soon since she already had a loud yapping dog to do it for her.

“Then why has she refused to look at Lady Lisa’s face even once this entire evening, Your Majesty?”

Felicia recoiled, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as the young woman’s eyes flickered nervously in Lisa’s direction, but she did not dare to look the red head in the eye.

“Well…”

Wilhelm began, struggling in his attempt to find the right words to refute Rebecca’s statement, but it was pointless. The blonde suited young woman was more than ready to throw back anything he’d say right to his face, however, the young lady was feeling rather merciful at the moment and decided the spare him the embarrassment of even trying by stopping him there.

“Her entire posture and body language since this entire clown fest of yours began just screamed out loud of anxiety and fear – one not of Lady Clarissa or I, but of Lady Lisa. And unlike the other two witnesses that came forth, Lady Felicia has been the most terrified of them all, her eyes never once daring to look at Lady Lisa.”

Now that she mentioned it, most of the observing nobles in the room could not help but reflect back about Felicia’s behaviour during the night.

The young lady as an individual never truly did stand out very much in high society, often keeping to herself, and was relatively well-known for her shy demeanour amoungst others. Nevertheless, when thinking more closely about it, she did seem to be much more reserved that usual today, as various people could recall seeing an expression of uneasiness on her face since the night has begun. Not to mention that the poor girl had been shaking throughout the time the spotlight of Rebecca’s cross examination has upon on her.

Yet, it was all very strange.

Her involvement in this all was such an oddity in itself. It was completely out of character for the young woman, a truly puzzling situation indeed.

‘How was it that timid, quiet, young Felicia, got herself swept up in such a large attention-grabbing condemnation event such as this?’   

It was a question, but not the question that Rebecca wanted to shed light onto just yet.

“Is it not suspicious in the slightest to you that the witness is more frightened of the ‘victim’ they’re supposed to be protecting instead of the accused they’re trying to condemn?”

Having heard enough of this, Lisa broke away from her comfortable hold within Wilhelm’s arms as she walked towards Felicia, reaching a hand out to her as she did.

“I’m afraid that you are incredibly mistaken, Lady Rebecca. Felicia and I are best friends! Our families are very close since we both come from the same territory, right Felicia?”

The red head turned to her, smiling widely as she did.

“Y – yes! B – best friends indeed.”

Unfortunately, her actions only went on to further cement doubt in her words as Felicia seemed to take a few quick steps back, moving away from the red-haired woman rather fearfully.

Not that Lisa had actually noticed, the young lady continuing to speak without a bother in the world.

“See, you are purely speculating, Lady Rebecca. There is nothing wrong with our relationship at all.” 

Rebecca raised a disbelieving brow.

‘This girl is clearly delusional if she can’t even see her so-called ‘best friend’ trying to get away from her.’

“As I have said before, Lady Lisa, we can always use this to see for ourselves what happened.”

Smiling, Rebecca held up her magical artefact in clear view, a light reminder to everyone in the room that lying right now was absolutely futile.

Nevertheless, the red-haired lady was not fazed as she pressed on.

“But what is there to see?”

She chuckled, shaking her head as she did.

‘Oh, I know what we should see.’

Not bothered to respond to Lisa’s question, Rebecca turned away as she activated the crystal ball in her hands. As the words flew out of her mouth, her gaze met with Lisa’s sudden alerted ones, grinning as she did.

“Show me Felicia Dahnes, date: 3^rd March, time: 11.50am.”

“You!”

He was completely ready to reprimand her for her disrespect, but the moment the image of the school fountain started playing in the large projection before them, the words soon died out in Wilhelm’s mouth. Whatever it was he had wanted to say, it was all so quickly forgotten.

From the point of view displayed, it was evident that Felicia had been standing in front of the fountain at the designated time and date. The young lady’s exhausted pants rang out and clear throughout the ballroom, an indicative sign that she must have been running before this. She took a moment to recover her breath, pausing as she did, but it was what happened next that stunned the people in the room.

Felicia had walked towards the edge of the fountain, lifting the bookbag in her hands as she dropped a number of school books into the shallow waters, more specifically – Lisa Silverstone’s books.

Amelia gasped in realisation, bringing a hand to her mouth.

“Isn’t this?”

Nodding, Rebecca confirmed her suspicions.

“The event that our lovely first witness, Lady Amelia had seen.”

However, that was still not the most shocking thing. On the surface of the fountain’s clear waters, Felicia’s anxious face was reflected. On her head, you could see a wig of some sort – one which mimicked the exact same shade and style of Clarissa’s hair, unshakable proof that the Felicia had attempted to frame the young lady.

“So… Lady Felicia was the culprit this entire time?”

Amelia turned to stare at Felicia with disbelief, the latter on the other hand was on the verge of tears, shaking her head in denial as she did. But it appears that most of the nobles around her had already made up their minds about her guilt, whispering amoungst themselves as they did, sending directive eyes of disapproval towards her.

Rebecca hushed them, silencing the room as her blue eyes focused on the images playing before her, anticipatingly following Felicia’s running figure.

“We’re not done just yet…”

Her sharp eyes narrowed as they followed Felicia’s hurried footsteps.

‘Where are you off to now?’

After tossing the books away, she had run across the fountain to a row of pillars that were positioned away from the scene of the crime as Felicia turned into the corner, dropping tiredly to her knees… in front of none other than Lisa, the victim.

 “Ah.”

Rebecca grinned, satisfied with the turn of events.

Within the image, Lisa was evidently seen attempting to hide herself behind the pillar. The young lady frowned as she stared at Felicia’s fatigued figure on the ground, harshly gesturing for her to move.

“What are you doing? Get behind me you fool before you expose us both! Idiot.”

Lisa had hissed at her, ushering expressively with a hand for Felicia to hide.

Tiredly, Felicia stumbled to her feet before she jogged behind the red head, doubling over to her knees as she panted exhaustedly in an attempt to recover her breath.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m not very good at running.”

“Shh, shut up,”

Lisa had snapped back at Felicia, sending a quick, silencing glare her way.

“I see somebody coming.”

Peeking her head out from behind the pillar, Lisa looked towards the fountain, watching in anticipation as a figure in the distance rushed towards the structure.

Felicia attempted to take a peek herself, but was unable to as the young lady standing in front of her elbowed her back. Fumbling with her thumbs, nervously, Felicia decided that perhaps it would be best to ask instead.

“W – who?”

As the young lady moved into closer view, her identity became clearer to the red-haired woman.

“It’s… Lady Amelia.”

Lisa smiled, triumphantly.

That seemed to be enough for now.

“Culprit was it, Lady Amelia? No, I wouldn’t exactly call it that… but in all honesty, that doesn’t look like a very healthy friendship to me, Lady Felicia. And I really am not one to judge.” 

Rebecca looked to Felicia, meeting her gaze as she told her honestly.

“If I were you, I would speak the truth… because from how things are looking right now, you might go down as an accomplice more than an actual witness to these crimes.”

She was done. The good honest woman inside of her could no longer hold it in for another second later.  

“Intentional – it was all intentional! She’s been forcing me to help set up Lady Clarissa this entire time because if I don’t then – then she’ll tell her mother, and her mother will… “

A fearful look crossed Felicia’s eyes as the young lady nervously looked to Lisa, her body shaking as she did. She looked on the verge of a panic attack as her arms came to wrap themselves around her body, comfortingly.

“Will reveal to everyone that your father was actually the younger identical twin who was never registered to the Dahnes family registry, but simply took his elder twin’s identity after he died as a child of an incurable illness?”

Eyes widened as Felicia stared back at Rebecca in astonishment.

“Y – yes… how did you?”

Rebecca smirked, titling her head as she did.

“A little birdy told.”

A small stretch of the truth, but nevertheless, was still a part of the truth.

“But it is nothing to be ashamed of, Lady Felicia. In fact, it is actually quite common for families to leave their younger children unnamed out of fear that their eldest child might die at a young age, which would then leave the name to be passed on to the next child.”

“I – it is?”

“Yes.”

Rebecca reassured her calmly, putting the anxious young lady’s heart at ease.

‘At least it was back in Ancient Minoan and Mycenaean times.’

But she did not see the need to tell her that.

“Lies!”

Lisa stepped forward, angrily as she pointed an accusing finger at Felicia before turning to the rest of the nobles’ and members of the Royal family present.

“My mother would never dare to do such a thing.”

“She did! I heard her threatening my father, telling him that if we did not help sponsor Lady Lisa to attend the academy, then she would expose my family for deceiving the Crown… so we had no choice but to comply to her demands.”

Felicia shot back, the young lady finding the strength in herself to speak up at last. She looked to Rebecca, her gaze holding hers in a plea to believe her truth.

“And that’s how Lady Lisa secured a financial sponsorship to transfer into Celestial Academy under the guise of an academic scholarship?”

“Yes…”

Felicia nodded, admittingly.

“And thus, the start of the bullying?”

She agreed once more, the tears that she had held in for so long finally came pouring out. There were many times when Felicia had broken down in tears, all alone in her bedroom over this torturous. She was normally so much better at keep a hold of her emotions, but the young lady was at her break point right now.

“S – she said that if I didn’t help her, she would tell her mother… and – and – “

Her words came out in emotional fumbles, but it was easy enough to understand her train of thoughts.

“You didn’t want to be the cause of the Viscounty’s downfall, so you obligated to her every command… even the most outrageous demands.”

Concluded Rebecca, pulling out a handkerchief from one of the inner pockets of blazer as she handed it over to a grateful Felicia.

‘No.’

She was not going to go down like this.

“You’re feeding her lies, Lady Rebecca!”

Feeling the pressure of the tides turning against her, Lisa made a move to get a grip of her friend in an attempt to try and talk some sense into her.

“Felicia, please, you do– “

The young lady pushed her away, refusing to even let her speak as she backed away from Lisa.

“Stay away from me! Get away from me, I can’t do this anymore!”

Felicia’s cries came out as a series of unladylike shrieks, each sentence coming out even louder than the last. 

‘Well, this is getting more dramatic than it already needs to be.’

Rebecca felt the urgency to intervene, stepping between the two to give Felicia some space. She held up a warning hand at Lisa, sending the young lady a look to not even think about moving closer than she already has.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you, Lady Lisa. As you can see, your mere presence would only aggravate the poor girl even more than she already is.”

“But – “

“She wanted to be Queen!”

Felicia declared, loudly as she pointed back her own indicative finger at Lisa.

‘And shit’s just hit the roof.’

It seems that with Lisa no longer able to hold her family secret over her head, Felicia was finally free to let all of the woman’s secrets spill. She had no obligation to keep her silence anymore.

“Every day she would never stop talking about how she should be the Crown Princess and how much she hated Lady Clarissa. She thought that she could get the Prince to annul his engagement to Lady Clarissa if he believed that she was harassing a young innocent lady like herself, so she intentionally tried to always incite a reaction from Lady Clarissa,”

“Like the incident from the beginning of the year?”

The young lady nodded, eagerly, confirming Rebecca’s suspicions all along.

“Exactly that, but Lady Clarissa never lashed out or reacted the way that Lady Lisa wanted her to.”

Felicia admitted, as she recalled how the brunette always remained calm and composed no matter how much Lisa had always tried to provoke her. No matter what the red head would do, she never really got the reaction she wanted from Clarissa. In a way, Felicia had to confess that she truly did admire Clarissa, for how well the young woman always carried herself so confidently no matter the circumstance.

“So, in desperation, she took to fabricating false events where Lady Clarissa appeared to be the perpetrator, gathering witnesses amoungst other noble ladies, which she then made you send letters to?”

Rebecca questioned, her hands gesturing to the other two witnesses.

Glancing over at both Amelia and Diana shamefully, Felicia could not deny the statement.

“Y – yes, it is exactly as you have said.”

‘Wonderful.’

Rebecca smiled, delighted that she finally had all the pieces of the puzzle together. Grinning, she could not help but be satisfied by the expression of dread that had draped over Lisa’s face. She could see the clogs turning away in the young woman’s mind, probably thinking of a way to escape from all of this. It was evident that not even her dear beloved Prince Charming could save her from all this, the evidence built against her was mountainous at this point. But that still didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

‘Not on my watch, Lisa Leech.’

“I suppose we can all say that Lady Lisa did succeed in her plans to annul the engagement between Crown Prince Wilhelm and Lady Clarissa, and wrongfully insert herself into a position that she does not deserve… which I do believe is quite an insult to the King and Queen of this Kingdom, since they had been the ones to set this engagement to begin with.”

The blonde young lady turned her attention to the King, her eyes meeting with his aged ones as she sent a directive glance at Lisa, who was slowly backing away into the crowd of nobles.

“Wouldn’t you say that this was a move against your authority and decision as the rightful ruler of this Kingdom, Your Majesty?”

The crowned older man understood her immediately, turning his head to his Royal guards, all whom had silently remained standing in the background this entire time. He pointed a finger at Lisa, his commanding voice roaring out his firm order as he did.

“Guards! Arrest her for treason!”

Lisa’s eyes filled with panic, she made a move to try and run but it was too late as the elite guards had apprehended her almost immediately. One flanking each of her side as they pushed her arms behind her back, forcing her to comply.

“No! Let me go!”

Yet, the young woman still tried to struggle.

“I’m innocent!”

Lisa pleaded, as she turned to look at Wilhelm, her eyes practically begging for him to do something.

“Lisa!”

Reaching out in an attempt to try and take her back, Wilhelm was blatantly denied access as the nearest guard to him slapped his hand away, refusing to allow him past. It was clear that they did not answer to him. Furious with his pride hurt, the Crown Prince whipped his head back to send a livid glare at Rebecca.

“You planned this, didn’t you?!”

‘Excuse me?’

“I believe that it was your father that called the Royal Guards to arrest her, your lovely fiancée, Your Highness. I, myself, never once squeaked a single word about arresting, Lady Lisa, and neither had Lady Clarissa.”

Rebecca pointed out, sharply.

Wilhelm gritted his teeth, he had to do something.

“But Lady Felicia could be lying, and besides, what about the letters? Clarissa’s signature had clearly been seen?”

The blonde Crown Prince took the letters from Amelia’s palms, holding out the blasphemous piece of paper in front of him, making his point.

“Ah yes, your witness lied. She lied about the accusations against Lady Clarissa because your fiancée made her do so, and if we were to verify it with my artefact, I believe that we shall be able to confirm the truth.”

“But the letters!”

Rebecca laughed, amused by his sheer desperation.

“A forgery. May I have your letters, Lady Felicia?”

She held out an open hand to the young lady.

“Yes, Lady Rebecca.”

Felicia willingly handed over one of her letters to Rebecca.

Satisfied, Rebecca moved towards the crowd, grabbing a clear glass of vodka out of the hands of a dumbfounded spectator as she smiled.

“And I shall be taking that, thank you… and there we go.”

She proceeded to pour the liquid over Duke Archibald’s signature on the palimony agreement.

“Oh, this does not invalidate the palimony agreement in anyway… the condition of the physical state of the document will not affect the terms of the agreement, since the Holy Temple has an identical copy stored for safe keeping. One in prim, proper condition.”

And with that, the blonde had quickly dashed any potential hopes that the King may have had of invalidating the terms and agreement of the document.

“It’s bleeding… red?”

Diana raised a brow, uncertain of what the blonde-haired young lady was trying to achieve.

“Yes, and now we take this.”

Rebecca repeated the step once more, only this time, she poured the drink onto a copy of ‘Clarissa’s’ signature on Felicia’s letter.

“And as we can all see… it bleeds a green shade, a completely different ink from the one manufactured specifically for the Archibald family to use. Correct, Duke Archibald?”

Coughing, the current head of the Archibald Duchy nodded, speaking up for the first time throughout the entire night.

“That would be correct, Lady Rebecca.”

Now, as much as the older man had wanted to intervene much earlier and rip a certain idiotic, blonde haired former fiancé to shreds with his own bare hands and disposed of, he decided against it. Choosing instead to have faith in daughter, that Clarissa would be able to stand her ground regardless of what was thrown at her. And she did, so splendidly as she had.

However, now it seems that it was finally time for him to speak up, and do his part in all of this. Even if it meant having to reveal a security detail that had always been kept between members of the main Archibald family, a failsafe passed down from generation to generation. But for his darling daughter, Clarissa, it was price he was so willing to pay.

“All members of the Archibald family use a very specific ink (which is exclusively unique to our family) when signing any formal document, this was enacted in many generations ago to avoid signature forgeries. The manufacturer that had created the ink signed all of their ownership rights away to the family, and the ink is now only produced within the family, for members of the family.”

Rebecca turned to the young Archibald heir.

“And you have never signed anything without this ink, Lady Clarissa?”

The brunette shook her head.

“Never. To not adhere to this procedure would be a shame upon our family and its traditions to keep us safe.”

“Good.”

Content with her response, Rebecca turned to Wilhelm, grinning victoriously as she did.

“Now as you can see, Your Highness, these letters that you so much held onto as ‘evidence’ were nothing more than cleverly fabricated forgeries.”

The blonde young woman waved the letter before his blue eyes, dropping it in front of his speechless face as she turned, quickly moving on to the next topic at hand. Rebecca approached Felicia, stopping to stand in front of the freckled young lady. Now, there was something else that she wanted to confirm.

“And this brings us back to our wonderful third witness, were you there on the day of the 17^th of June when the fall happened, Lady Felicia?”

Felicia shook her head.

“I was not, but I was asked to deliver the item to Lady Clarissa at around 7:45am, and was asked to write a letter to Lady Diana at 18:45pm by Lady Lisa.”

Keeping the two times in mind, Rebecca nodded as she held out the artefact in her hands to use once more.

“Understood. Show me Felicia Dahnes, date: 17^th of June, time: 07:45am.”

An image opened up to reveal Felicia sitting on the bed of what appears to be her own dormitory room, but from the way a shadowed figure paced up and down before it, it was evident that she was not alone.

“Do you have it ready?”

Lisa’s voice rung out clear as day from the projection, easily identifying the red-haired lady as the other person.

“Y – Yes...”

Felicia held up the packaged box in her hand, a box that matched the one seen previously in Clarissa’s testimony, for her to see.

“Good, now you remember what to do right?”

The young lady walked into view, sitting herself down on the bed next to Felicia as Lisa placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Don’t you?”

If Lisa had been trying to sound reassuring in the slightest, she had failed quite immensely. From the way her vice grip seemed to latch on tightly to the poor girl’s shoulder, it came out more like a threat than anything else. A point that was even more apparent from Felicia’s wincing face.

“O – of course!”

Satisfied, Lisa smiled. Her hand loosening as she patted the young lady’s shoulder, ushering for her to move.

“Then get to it.”

Felicia nodded, her fingers grasping on tightly to the box in her arms as she hurriedly got up to leave. Hesitating slightly, she took a final glance back to her bed where Lisa appeared to have made herself comfortable, laying about happily. Catching the young lady’s lingering eye, Lisa raised a hand to swat her away, shooing the other woman out from the comfort of her own room.

Gulping to herself, Felicia left, turning the corner as she made her way to Clarissa Archibald’s room. The journey had taken around ten minutes, most likely due to the fact that the students from the higher ranked houses resided on a completely different side of the dormitory building. It was almost 8am by the time Felicia had found herself standing outside Clarissa’s door.

For a moment, Felicia appeared to falter, an expression of uncertainty crossing her face. But she had quickly dismissed it, shaking her head to clear her mind as she placed the box down by the door. Steeling her quivering nervous hands, the young lady knocked on the door and left without a second to spare. She did not seem to want to be found outside Clarissa’s door.

And from then onward, the events appeared to have merged with Clarissa’s previous testimony. It matched perfectly with what had been shown before, and Rebecca believed that there was no point in watching this any further. She commanded her artefact.

“Now jump forth to 18:45pm.”

The image blurred momentarily before clearing up once more to form a picture of Felicia’s dorm room. The young lady was sat by her desk, an innovative device on her table as she looked to be using it to review the materials of her classes that day. As the young lady was about to turn a page in her book, the door of her bedroom appeared to burst wide open.

“It’s done! It’s all done!”

With expanded eyes, Felicia jumped in her seat at Lisa’s sudden intrusion. She turned as the elated young lady threw herself onto the bed, stretching her arms out in satisfaction as she did.

“T – the fall?”

Felicia had inquired, invoking a large grin from the red headed lady.

“All a great success! Without a single scratch to boot.”

Lisa had exclaimed as she rolled to her side, resting her hand under her chin as she smirked back at Felicia, victoriously.

“And the best part is, there was even a witness to it all.”

“Who?”

“Lady Diana Hughes.”

Her smiled only seemed to widen, excitedly as she leaned closer.

“She saw everything! And she’s convinced that it was Clarissa that pushed me down the steps.”

Fiddling with her fingers, Felicia nodded, not entirely sure what else there was for her to say.

“That’s good then. Your plan worked.”

Lisa appeared to take offence to that, her mouth dropping into a frown as she rolled her eyes back at her.

“Of course, it did.”

Sitting up now, the young lady crossed her arms across her chest.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Write a letter for Lady Diana just like you did before for Lady Amelia. Make sure to threaten her to keep her silence about the events of today."

She gestured to the device on Felicia’s desk.

Nervously, Felicia glanced back at the item and then to the ground.

“Is that really necessary?”

Her question seemed to have struck a chord in Lisa, as a look of irritation crossed her face. Her red brows knitted together as an expression of displeasure draped across her face, she clearly did not like it when things were not going her way. Even more so when Felicia decided to talk back to her.  

“Of course, it is! God, you’re so dense sometimes, Felicia. We need to solidify the fact that it was that damned Clarissa Archibald who was the culprit behind it, got it?”  

Whatever new found braveness Felicia had before was quickly beaten back as the other lady simply dipped her head down, keeping it low – exactly how Lisa liked it.

“Good, I need get out of this stupid, silly suit now. Urgh, it’s served its purpose."

She got to her feet, a look of annoyance on her face as she lifted up her skirt. Scowling, the red-haired woman stared down at the protective suit beneath her school uniform, observing for any sign of a scratch or mark but she found none. Gratified, she moved away from the bed as she walked over to the large standing mirror in Felicia’s bedroom, smiling contently at her own reflection as she did.

“But with this, I’ve practically sealed my faith as the next Crown Princess, Felicia. Can’t you just see it, a beautiful tiara on my head? The Queen’s sceptre in my hands. Just like how my mother always said I would have.”

“Y – yes…”

And that was where Rebecca had decided to end it. She had seen enough.

Chuckling to herself at the beautiful turn of events, the blonde bit back a smirk.

“You know… I don’t think you can hide behind that pretty innocent mask anymore, country weed.”

From where she stood rooted in her spot (not that she had much choice considering the strong pair of hands that flanked her each side), Lisa did not speak. Her face wore an unreadable expression before her head dropped down, almost defeatedly.

‘Oh? Is she not going to try and defend herself?’

Regardless, even if she did, it was pointless for her to try. The evidence had been played for all to see; everything was now out in the open. It would be difficult for her to try and wiggle out of this one.  

But just because she didn’t, that didn’t mean that Wilhelm wouldn’t try for her.

The blonde-haired Prince stepped forth, ready to defend his beloved.

“There is no wa – “

“It’s not fair!”

Wilhelm’s mouth fell open in shock, his blue eyes enlarging as the young Crown Prince was rather taken aback by the harshness of the tone. A drastic change to the softer one she had always normally spoke with.

‘And so, the real Lisa Leech finally reveals herself.’

Her body was shaking now, it was as though all that pent up anger and frustration was building up, just ready to explode.

‘It’s a good thing that the guards already have a grip on her,’

Because it seems like Lisa’s finally snapped. The young woman’s head came bouncing back up as she finally aired out all her internal frustrations for all to hear. 

“Why the hell does that cold, emotionless doll get to be Queen? Isn’t it already unfair enough that she was born with a golden spoon in her mouth to begin with, why does she get to have everything handed to her so easily? It’s just not fair.”

Perhaps it wasn’t, but life wasn’t fair sometimes.

However, just because you are envious or jealous of somebody else’s life, it doesn’t mean that you can use underhanded methods to forcefully steal it away from them, and destroy their public image for your own self-satisfaction and greed. She thought that just because her mother had gotten lucky in life, marrying herself and her daughter out of a commoner status, she could do the same. Only this time, into royalty.

But unfortunately for her, her luck’s run out now.

“She had the perfect life you always wanted, didn’t she? And you tried so hard to take it all away from her.”

Lisa gritted her teeth.

“And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for you, or your stupid meddling crystal ball!”

“Well, Scooby-Dooby-Doo~”

Rebecca remarked, offhandedly with a smile.

Lisa’s brows knitted together, a look of disbelief on her face.

“What does that even mean?!”

The blonde shrugged, tossing her hands into the air.

“Nothing really. Feel free to take her away,”

Rebecca called back out to the King, gesturing her hands towards the exit as she waved for the guards to move out the trash young lady now that she was done with her cross examination.

The King opened his mouth to speak, most likely to order his men to take Lisa away but the man never got a single word through as Rebecca cut him off, waving the palimony agreement in her hand as she did. An unfortunate reminder of the young woman’s main objective.

“But before you do that, I do believe that you will have to pay Lady Clarissa Archibald exactly this amount of money as palimony now that we have concluded sub-clause four, Your Highness.”

She indicated to the absurd number she had finalised and calculated at the bottom of the document; a number that practically made the man choke as he looked at it. It was more than enough to sink the Crown further down into debt than they already were.

‘Perhaps there is a way…’

“Or would you rather dare to break a formally drafted and legal document like this in front of all these people, Your Majesty?”

Any thoughts of trying to undermine or invalidate the agreement went out of the window without a second thought.

“… the arrangements will be made.”

Feeling incredibly defeated, the man rested a palm on his aged face before gesturing for the guards to the take that eye sore who ruined everything Lisa away as they dragged the young lady against her will. To where they were taking her, he did not care. He just wanted that troublesome woman out of his sights for the time being. He already had one idiotic lump of stupidity sorry excuse of a son to deal with, he would deal with the her later.

Grinning brightly, Rebecca turned as she passed the legally binding document to an old ‘friend’, a term very much used one-sidedly. She patted the old man across the shoulder, laughing as she did.

“Excellent. I shall leave the execution of the agreement to you now, Archbishop. After all, it is the responsibility of the Holy Temple to ensure that all official contracts they act as a witness to must be carried out as the fine print goes.”

He very reluctantly accepted the paper.

“...yes. We shall see to it.”

And so, the old man’s work grew, again. Like it always seemed to do when it came to one meddling Rebecca Vanderwood.

Amused, the blonde stretched out her arms above her head, glad to finally have that all over and done with.

“Wonderful. Now, if anyone needs me, I shall be taking my leave.”

Rebecca raised a hand to bid goodbye before making her way to the grand ballroom’s door. Very much walking out the same way that Lisa had gone, except this time, she was doing it willingly on her own two feet.

‘Ah,’

She paused her steps, turning back to glance at the people in the room.

“My, what a memorable night this has been. I feel quite tired now, don’t you, Lady Clarissa?”

Rebecca extended her hand out to the brunette young lady, an offer for her to get away from all of this.

Snapping her fan shut, Clarissa smiled, reaching out to accept her offer.

“I do suppose that I should take my leave as well, Lady Rebecca.”

Her dark green eyes flickered back to Wilhelm, and then to the rest of the nobles in the room. Most whom she suspected would have loved for things to have gone the other way for her tonight, very much like the hungry pack of wolves they all were.

“After all, I don’t believe that I’m quite welcomed here right now.”

She did not miss the look their eyes; they could try and hide as much as they wanted to behind their fake mask, and the lies that they loved to whisper.

“Father?”

Duke Archibald nodded, easily reading the air in the room. He, too, agreed that leaving first would be the best choice of action for his precious daughter.

“You may leave first, my dear. I will remain here to arrange a transfer of the palimony with the Archbishop.”

“A wise choice. Shall we?”

Rebecca strolled over to Clarissa, holding out a blazered arm for her to take. Clarissa chuckled, linking her arm into the blonde’s.

“We shall.”

And with that, the villainess and her lawyer left – both having the last laugh.

The moment they left through the doors; Clarissa let out a sigh of relief. The brunette woman’s brave façade fading away as she placed a palm on her chest, breathing deeply as she stared out into the open starry sky.

“I can’t believe it.”

The brunette young lady turned to her friend, gratefully.

“It’s over – it’s all over.”

Rebecca chuckled, tucking her hand into her pockets as she smiled back at her.

“Be at ease, Lady Clarissa. You’re a free woman now.”

Indeed, she was.

It was a concept that was still so baffling to her considering that she had woken up every morning for the past eleven years an engaged woman. One tied in a political marriage dictated by her obligations to society.

But now…

‘I’m free. I’m finally free.’

“Thank you, thank you so much, Lady Rebecca.”

“Please, I’m just doing what’s right.”

Rebecca admitted before sighing to herself, tiredly.

“Besides, I absolutely detest men like Winston –Wilhelm – yeah, whatever his name is,”

The blonde’s face paused for a moment, scrunching up briefly as she tried to recall his name for a moment… but she quickly waved the thought off due to his complete irrelevance in her life at this point.

“Men like him who think they can get away with anything deserve to get put down once in a while.

Giggling, Clarissa could not help but recollect the multitude of expressions that had crossed her former fiancé’s face earlier that night. She would consider that a win for the blonde.

“Well, I believe you brutally stomped on his pride this time.”

Rebecca smirked.

“Don’t I always?”

“I was surprised though…”

Raising a brow, Rebecca turned to Clarissa, questioningly.

“With?”

“How did you know so much about the Franklin Company and Silverstone Constructions?”

‘Well…’

“Because I dig – I will dig everything up to ensure that I always win my cases.”

‘I’m meticulous that way.’

“And the Dahnes family secret?”

Clarissa inquired, curiously. Even she had to admit that she was a little interested in knowing more about the circumstances surrounding the Dahnes Viscounty. It was not often that something like this would be leaked so publicly to high society, since most families always prioritised their image more than anything else.

“Ah, I happened to come across a young man many years ago (when I was first forcefully sent away) … one who was stricken by the grief of his family tragedy and had simply confessed to everything – how his world just suddenly changed and how disgusted he felt when he was forced to step into his brother’s shoes; quite literally.”

“And that young man…”

The blonde nodded, confirming Clarissa’s suspicions.

“Was Lady Felicia’s father, the current Viscount Dahnes – a man forced into an identity that was never meant for him to begin with. It still haunts him till this very day…”

“I never knew.”

‘I didn’t expect you to.’

“The Viscounty did well in hiding it, but now it’s all out in the open and I do suppose they would prefer it that way – well, at least Lady Felicia would. I could never imagine that she would want to live the rest of her life like that, with a secret hanging over her head.”

The brunette tilted her head to a side, her brows furrowing together.

“But then, how did Baroness Silverstone know if the Viscounty worked so hard to cover it up?”

‘Hah.’

Rebecca also effortlessly knew the answer to that question.

“The former head butler that served Lady Felicia’s grandfather was a regular to the pleasure house in the Silverstone family’s territory, where Lisa Leech’s mother happened to be the former number one Madame. I wouldn’t be surprised if he let his mouth run after a while, and word got round to her, which she then used to her advantage once she rose to a suitable position of power.”

Clarissa’s eyes widened, taking in the new piece of information.

‘Oh my,’

“I’d imagine that information as scandalous as that would have been buried by the Baron.”

Just the thought of it made her laugh.

“Well, he did try, but you should never underestimate the ire of a scorned woman. Baroness Silverstone’s tendencies to steal husbands is quite well known out there in the countryside, and had made many, many, many enemies. She is quite the manipulative lady, something that she must have taught to her daughter. Unfortunately, she failed to teach her daughter to actually hide it well enough.”

Rebecca turned to Clarissa, smiling as she did. It was clear that the blonde did not mind sharing more of what she knew, Clarissa did not doubt for a second that the blonde would have ecstatically brought it up back in the ballroom if she so wanted to. In a way, Clarissa would say that Lisa’s reputation had gotten off rather lightly compared to how it much more it would have suffered if the other nobles learnt of her rather disgraceful background.

“Any other queries and questions from that little pretty head of yours?”

She held up a single finger.

“Just one. My signature – it was a perfect copy of how I signed my letters. How did they manage to imitate it so perfectly? Even I had doubts for a moment.”

The brunette had to fearfully admit, but there was a moment back then when even she had started to doubt herself. Perhaps a blank in her memory, but no matter how much she pried in her mind, she could never recall ever signing them. So, she had denied it, and she was glad that she so did.

“Well, like everything related to Lady Felicia, it was through an invention.”

The blonde turned to her.

“Tell me, have you ever shared a class with Lady Felicia before?”

Clarissa shook her head.

“Well, no, I don’t believe that I ever have.”

“I guessed enough, because if you’ve had, you would have noticed that one, Lady Felicia would do anything to stay out of the spotlight because of her social anxiety. And two, she is never without her typing machine. Due to her learning disability, the school has made an exception and allows her to take it with in classes, where she uses it to type her notes and copy certain abstract of text.”

Suddenly, it clicked in her mind. 

“She used it to forge a perfect copy of my signature.”

Rebecca nodded, holding up a single finger for Clarissa to see as she waved it in front of her eyes.

“She only needed one copy of it.”

“But where would she even get it? I do not simply sign just any document, Lady Rebecca.”

“But you do happen to sign your library checkout card whenever you take a book out, and Lady Felicia just happens to be a library assistant with access to those records.”

The brunette woman was thoroughly amazed, just when she thought Rebecca had surprised her enough, the blonde was always able to throw something back out at her. It was amazing how much she knew about all of this; just like she always did since the beginning.

“Incredible, you never cease to amaze me with how well you are able to discover all these things.”

“It’s not that hard, Lady Clarissa, you just have to dig a little here and there. I’m afraid I’m quite particular when it comes to that.”

Rebecca sheepishly admitted before her expression turned to one of seriousness.

“But if I were you, I would look forward to the future now. After all, you’re finally a free woman now, Clarissa Archibald, one that is no longer tied down to a blonde-haired prick and the obligations of the future Crown Princess.”

She smiled, that was also true.

“Yes, I am.”

It was still all so surreal to her, but she was confident that she would be able to take it all in stride like she always had.

“I really never thought that this day ever would come, and I truly owe it all to you, Lady Rebecca.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just really despise cunning and idiotic people, like a certain pair… one half who is probably getting chewed up right now by his parents.”

Her blue eyes glanced back at the door leading to the ballroom, if she concentrated just hard enough to listen in, Rebecca was certain that she could just hear the Queen’s voice echoing. She would not be surprised if they forwent keeping Wilhelm’s punishment quiet, the blonde Crown Prince had already have exposed enough of his private life tonight for all to see.

‘No doubt somebody would be tattling to the local newspapers after this.’

Spotting a familiar vehicle, Clarissa turned to Rebecca.

“Well, I do believe that my carriage is here.”

She glanced off to the side, looking out in the distance briefly before speaking.

“Would you perhaps like a lift, Lady Rebecca?”

“No, it’s alright. I believe my family has sent one for Jon and I as well, I just need to wait for Jon to come out.”

‘Whenever that brat is finally done socialising – noble obligation he says.’

Rebecca gazed back to the door, just anticipating her brother’s appearance.

However…

“But Lord Jonathan had just left.”

Clarissa lifted a finger as she pointed to the departing brown carriage off in the distance, one that had only left a matter of seconds ago.

The blonde’s blue orbs followed the finger’s direction, a swear escaping from her lips as she spotted the familiar Vanderwood family emblem embedded on the back of the moving carriage.

‘That little shit…’

Rebecca chuckled, a strained smile forming on her lips.

“My… he certainly is a dead man…”

Turning to the brunette, Rebecca nodded at her.

“I suppose I would love to take you up on that offer then, Lady Clarissa.”

Whether or not Jonathan Vanderwood would live to see another day tomorrow, it was a question that even Clarissa was unsure the answer to at this point in time. Yet at times like these, even she could not help but wonder, how did it all come down to this?

A rather familiar question that had always plagued the back of Rebecca Vanderwood’s mind, how did it all come down to this? How did she, a former law university student, end up transmigrating into the world of a romance novel, and protecting the novel’s villainess from condemnation? Well, she didn’t exactly have the answer to that.

But she supposed it all began eleven years ago, when she first opened her eyes to wake up and find herself in the body of seven-year-old, Rebecca Vanderwood.

The daughter of a Count, and political pawn in the world known as high society…

…that was until she broke free.  

Conclusion of the night:

Disclaimer: Original image does not belong to me, but the characters do.

Chapter Text

Introducing the young lady who defies social norms and etiquette in society, the ostracized Black Sheep of the Vanderwood County...

Lady Rebecca Vanderwood

In a nutshell – a young woman famously known for her rebellious unladylike nature and habits that go against everything belief of a noble lady. So much so that Count Vanderwood had made sure to do everything he could to keep his daughter away from the public eye, even going so far to send her to a Church to become a nun (which failed disastrously).

In actuality, a transmigrated former law student, with a penchant for true crime, a no-nonsense attitude and a love for change.

Family social status: Count.

Age: 18 years old.

Likes: Pant suits; justice, mooting, social/gender equality, 'quality time' with her younger brother, and a fair and equal system of impartiality.

Dislikes: Society expectations and etiquette; arranged marriages, life-damaging lies, cheating scumbags, people who take advantage of others for their benefits, the Monarchy, pitiful people who are dumb enough to be manipulated, the Monarchy, kids on snowboards and disks, geese, and cheese.

Hobbies: Darts at her brother's head, inciting revolutions, taking hot bathes and navigating Escape rooms.

Skills and specialities: Thoroughly digging through a person's background.

Next is the quiet but beautiful young lady, famously known as the untouchable rose amoung flowers...

Lady Clarissa Archibald

The eldest daughter of the Archibald Dukedom, the wealthiest family in the Kingdom of Orion with is close ties to merchants and foreign trade. The should-have-been 'Villainess' of the popular romance light novel: 'Upon A Million Stars'; but in actuality, a frequently misunderstood young lady who was forced into a role she never wanted.

Family social status: Duke.

Age: 18 years old.

Likes: Her younger sister, her parents, her family business, new inventions, flowers, learning (open to any subject) and tea times (alone is acceptable as well).

Dislikes: Royal training, not spending enough time with her family, custard and a certain uncouth blonde-haired buffoon.

Hobbies: Puzzles, ghost-writing economic analyse articles, and investment stock predictions for the local newspapers.

Skills and specialities: (A lot of) Patience, keeping calm in highly pressure situations, and accurately predicting outcome of the business and stock market.

And then, the countryside flower who ambitiously aims to become a rose...  

Lady Lisa (formerly 'Andrews') Silverstone

A young lady who grew up always being told that she could have anything in the world if she so desired it – a belief that was even more enhanced upon her mother's life-changing marriage into nobility. An incredibly determined individual who so selfishly desired her own Prince Charming and Happily Ever After like her mother.

Family social status: Ex-Commoner, now Baron (Branch-family only), following her mother's marriage into nobility through shady means.

Age: 19 years old.

Likes: Her mother, a pampered lifestyle, adoration and compliments.

Dislikes: Clarissa Archibald, excessive young noble ladies who were born more fortunate than her, her mother scolding her, people looking down on her and her mother, and the Main Branch Silverstone family that disapproves of the Branch family's head remarriage.

Hobbies: Reading cheesy romance novels about Princes and Royalty.

Skills and specialities: Acting, making flower crowns, farming potatoes and swearing like an old country farmer when enraged.

And finally, a Royal pathetic excuse of what was supposed to be the male lead of 'Upon A Million Stars'...

His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Wilhelm Dale the Third

(Image unavailable, most likely burnt.)

An overly spoiled young man who had everything given to him in life on a gold spoon, and did as he so pleased because he knew that he would be able to get away with it since he was to be soon crowned the future King.

Family social status: Royal Family, first in line to the throne.

Age: 19 years old.

Likes: Lisa, sword fighting, hunting, feeling superior, and defending the weak and wronged (using his ridiculously warped sense of justice).

Dislikes: His arranged fiancée, Clarissa Archibald, a certain young lady that doesn't conform to society's (and the Kingdom's) norms, Rebecca Vanderwood, flying white ceramic teapots, being told that he was wrong and getting scolded by his parents.

Hobbies: Collecting rare hunting animals and weapons.

Skills and specialities: An exuberant amount of confidence, sword fighting, hunting and absolute unmatched stupidity at times.

Additional: Three Little Witnesses

Lady Amelia Walkings

A young lady from a Count family, who fell victim to one of Lisa and Felicia's invented events. She likes to take long evening walks in gardens.

Lady Diana Hughes

The second daughter of an Earl family, a young woman who loves to dance, who often dances the night away.

Lady Felicia Dahnes

A dyslexic young woman from a Viscounty with a 'terrible' secret, whom was blackmailed into sponsoring Lisa into the prestigious academy, and assisting her to fabricate harassment events against Clarissa Archibald as an accomplice. She enjoys listening to music as it calms her down from the stress and pressures of her everyday life. 

Chapter Text

It had all happened so suddenly...

A pair of light blue eyes flickered open, groggily as her orbs flickered about momentarily. She was tucked into her bed rather snugly. Too snugly for her liking, nevertheless...

'...why is it so dark in here?'

Like she always did in the morning when she first woke, she brought her hands over to rub her eyes. Only to realise...

'What the...'

She paused in her action, suddenly becoming much more alert now as she pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her open palms warily.

'Wait, since when were my fingers these small or pudgy? Do I need to go on another diet or something? Hold on.'

She sat up in her bed, abruptly in shock.

'These are child hands!'

As she glanced down, taking a closer look at 'her' hands, long locks of brunette strands fell forward, stunning her even more. She grabbed the strands attached to what was most definitely, her head.

'My hair... its brown!'

That was impossible. She had them bleached blonde just a few days ago, touching them up like she normally did when her roots were starting to show. But even then, her natural hair shade wasn't this dark.

As she clasped her soft locks in her palm, she paused in her pondering, suddenly very aware of significantly glaring details about the room she was in, that should most definitely not be there. Her head shot back up.

'Wait, where am I?'

Because she was certain as hell that this was not her university house bedroom.

It was way too fancy to be one, and even the most kindest (if they even existed to begin with) of landlords or letting agencies would never go so far to decorate a student accommodation with a four-poster king-sized bed with overhanging gold threaded tassels and red curtains.

No, it was much too luxurious to be a student room and she doubted that they would even have the heart to even try – for goodness sakes, most house letting agencies were the absolute devil and bane of every university student's life. She and her housemates had found items left over from the previous tenants, years' worth of grease in their kitchen extractor and mould in their toilet!

Nonetheless, it was not the time right now for that (as much as she would have loved to go on), she had bigger things to worry about than the deplorable state of her university house.

First of all,

'Where am I?'

As she glanced around the dimly lit enclosed space (one that was even larger than the entire ground floor of her university house) she had to confessed that she was coming up blank. She did not recognise the lavishly decorated room at all. It was not a place she had ever been too.

But suddenly, something caught her eyes, a mirror – no, more specifically the reflection caught in the mirror.

She tossed the blanket away, her feet dropping to the ground as she rushed forth to take a closer look at her reflection. Her palm pressed against the cool surface of the glass; her blue eyes enlarged as her mouth dropped open in disbelief and horror.

"Oh my god... I'm a foetus, an absolute child."

Her hands moved to clasp her now chubby face, one that she did not even recognise as her own. Was she dead?

"But how..."

As if her memories had been triggered, a suddenly recollection entered through her mind.

She remembered there being snow, a lot of snow.

She had been heading towards a walking path that led up to her university; she was on her way to take an exam that day, when suddenly she heard a cry. She remembered turning her head towards the noise, but it had been too late... The child on their damned snow disk had come out of nowhere, at a speed too quick for either of them to react as they collided.

The disk must have slammed against her head, pushing her back before crashing down against the hard ground after taking a direct impact, knocking her out for good.

'It must have been internal bleeding...'

At nineteen years old, one Susanne Prince had her life come quickly to an end on a snowy day in March, in a freak accident that should have never happened.

Yet it was not the fact that she died that way that had irked her.

No, it was the fact that she had missed out on the opportunity to conquer her hardest law exam yet. And had even spent the entire night studying for it, which may or may not have contributed to her (more than usual) slower response time when she thought about it in retrospect.

"Unbelievable! I died just before I could take my Equity and Trust exam!"

'I knew I should have done something about those bratty neighbourhood kids earlier!'

Susanne internally screamed to herself, her hands clasping her head as she cursed at her own damn misfortune. The young girl was so caught up in her own internal wailing that she failed to notice the bedroom door creek open until a voice called out to, whom she could only assume was, her.

"Milady?"

Peeking through the door, a woman popped her head through. Her eyes widening the moment they landed on the young girl's standing figure as she breathlessly spoke.

"Milady, you're awake."

Susanne raised a brow, confusedly.

'Milady?'

The woman threw the door wide open now, turning as she shouted behind her.

"Marie, call the Head Butler! Tell him that Lady Rebecca has awakened once more!"

'Lady Rebecca?'

It wasn't long before she had found herself seated at a round, white clothed table in the very same room she had awoken in; a large array of tea time treats set out before her. As 'Rebecca' held the teacup in her clasped palms, she silently sipped away at the drink, brooding to herself of what she was able to make sense of so far in regards to her rather peculiar situation.

'So, I'm dead, but not exactly dead.'

She had taken two blunt force blows to the head. First a direct frontal impact from a snow disk (most likely) and then another when she had fallen back, hitting her head down on the icy, winter road. Considering that she had not woken up in the ICU or in a hospital room, she must have succumbed to her injuries... and supposedly, died. Unfortunately.

Yet, somehow... here she was. Somewhat still alive?

'From what I understand, I'm apparently inhibiting the body of a young child, a seven-year-old of all things, in some sort of fantasy world.'

It sounded like a case of transmigration, just like the theme of all those light novels and manhwas that she and her housemate used to read. If her suspicions were correct, it would mean that her soul had survived and moved somewhere else, the only question now was: where?

"Do you like it, Milady?"

The question pulled her out of her thoughts.

It had been an older gentleman whom had asked, he was dressed formally in a black butler's uniform, wearing a set of ivory, white gloves. Concern etched across his tiresome face as the bespectacled man stared down at the young lady worriedly, it was odd to see the young miss not ask for a second cup of tea.

"Ah... yeah..."

Rebecca replied, awkwardly with a strained smile, taking another sip as she did to help make her case.

'What's his name again? Charles?'

She tried to search through the original Rebecca's memories, but was drawing up blank as she stared back at the grey-haired man.

Nevertheless, the man seemed satisfied with her answer, standing a little straighter as he spoke with a puffed chest of pride.

"Wonderful! We ordered it especially just for you, from the Kingdom's best bakery, the Orion Bakery."

Her childlike eyes narrowed at the name, it sounded... familiar.

'Orion Bakery... Orion?'

She placed the teacup down, clinking it loudly in an unladylike manner against its matching saucer, much to the shock of the aged man. Rebecca's eyes narrowed as she placed a hand on her hip, she thought back to the familiar name, in an attempt to recall where she had heard it before.

"M – milady?"

Rebecca turned to him.

"Can I have the newspaper please?"

He looked taken back by the request, and paused for a moment, half expecting her to change her mind or tell her she had been kidding, but she hadn't. In fact, as time passed, the young lady he served only appeared to look more serious (if that was even possible for a seven-year-old). Bowing politely, the elder man nodded before excusing himself.

"Oh... of course, Milady..."

Rebecca nodded, leaning back in her seat, her fingers entwinned together. She had a sipping suspicion about this place.

'If I'm not mistaken...'

She's definitely heard of that word before, from a book, more specifically from one of the light novels she had binge read out of stress during the summer before.

Upon her butler's return, she accepted the morning newspaper offered to her, her blue eyes immediately looking to the headliner.

'Kingdom of Orion News...'

This confirmed it for her. Her small hands grasped the paper tightly, crumpling the edges as she did so.

"Oh my god,"

Rebecca leaned her head back against the chair, her eyes closed.

"Lady Rebecca?"

The aged man stepped forward, glancing down worriedly at the young girl but found himself stepping back in shock as she tossed the paper aside. The object narrowly missing his head as he ducked.

"F***, I'm a freaking NPC."

Rebecca grabbed her head once more before pausing momentarily as she corrected herself.

"Wait, no, this isn't a bloody otome game."

The words were muttered lowly to herself, only she appeared to fully grasp the meaning behind her words. To her servants, it appeared as though their lady had finally gone mad.

"Milady, are you alright?"

'That's right.'

She was not alone right now.

Turning, Rebecca pushed a false smile onto her lips and turned to the inquiring man.

"Oh, yes. I'm fine... Peter?"

"Hubert..."

Rebecca laughed her mistake off with a wave of her hand, the smile on her lips becoming wider by the second as she nodded back at him.

"Yes, well... it appears that my memory is a little fuzzy for the moment. Would you be so kind to tell me about, oh I don't know... everything about me?"

She placed a hand under her chin as she smiled at him, and then at the two maids who had remained quietly off to the side. The nervous glances the three of them shared did not go unnoticed by her sharp blue eyes.

"Well, of course, Milady."

"Lovely."

'I see... so I have become a nameless background character, who has no role, nor involvement in the story's main plotline.'

She drummed her small fingers lightly against her armrest as she thought. From what she had gotten from a very short briefing, she was the only daughter of Count Vanderwood, a man who was in charge of a territory just slightly out of the bounds of the Capital. She was the oldest of two siblings, but from the way Hubert entirely avoided the topic of her brother, it can be inferred that they don't exactly have the best relationship. Or as Marie (the younger maid) had quipped in quickly, rather a lack of it.

She had been bedridden for the past few months, after getting into a little accident in the forest near her wing of the manor. Apparently, something that happened often, perhaps a cry for attention or help.

'It's a little sad really.'

She could not help but feel a bit bad for the original Rebecca. Being born a girl, her family did not really have plans for her because they knew that she would eventually leave their family once she was married off. It was probably because of that that her parents had shifted their focus entirely onto her brother the moment he was born, since Jonathan would be set to inherit the Vanderwood name and fortune in the end.

'She was used to being the apple of their eyes, but now they don't even spare her a second of their days... it's no wonder old Becky went out of her way to grab their attentions.'

"Is there anything else you need, Milady?"

Rebecca turned to Hubert, shaking her head as she did.

"No... nothing really, oh wait – would we happen to have a copy of the Kingdom's Constitution in the library?"

From behind his spectacles, his grey eyes widened in surprise.

"C – constitution?"

Perhaps he had heard wrongly but no, Rebecca had simply nodded.

"Yes, or any book revolving around the laws or structure of this Kingdom... just as a little refresher for my memory since I've been sick for oh so long."

To further emphasise her point, she fell back dramatically, placing the back of her palm against her forehead like how she had seen some ladies act in those cheesy period rom-coms her father used to watch.

'Is this how eloquent young ladies are supposed to act? Was she being too overly dramatic?'

From the bewildered expressions of astonishment that she was getting, apparently so.

"O – of course, Milady."

But at least they didn't question it, as the three servants excused themselves, leaving the young girl by herself.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, Rebecca was glad to have some time alone at last. That means that she could finally let herself think more seriously about her situation... and maybe even come to turns with her unfortunate reality now.

'Guess this means that I'm dead then...'

And it actually did suck because she had actually loved her old life before.

Unlike the characters in most transmigration novels she had read, there was nothing really wrong in her life. That didn't go to say that Susanne Prince had lived a picture-perfect life before, because no life was truly perfect... but it had been good. She had grown up in a normal family, with parents (who she sometimes butted heads with) that tried their best to raise her well. And she had a great group of friends, she had so much ahead of her – and then she had to die.

'In a freak accident out of all things.'

Oh, the panic her death must have caused in their little peaceful neighbourhood. The neighbourhood watch must be having a heart attack right now, thinking of how they were going to have to explain this to both the university and her family.

Shaking her head, she decided that perhaps it was best not to dwell any longer about the past. It would do her no good, nothing but stress and agony would come out of it if she did. Perhaps she was moving on much too quickly for somebody who had just woken up in a whole other body but she had always been a firm believer that she would die eventually. Whether it happened now, or later – death has always been unpredictable and inevitable in her opinion.

It was probably why she had tried to live her life to the fullest, getting up to schemes and pranks with her friends (within the bounds of the law, of course) up till the very end.

'It's a real shame that my time came so soon... but you know what, it's fine. It's all good, because at least God (?) or somebody, gave me a second chance in life. Or something along those lines...'

She believed that things happened for a reason.

It's sad how things had ended for her as Susanne, but perhaps there was a reason for it all. Something that she didn't understand yet, and who knows, maybe this new life as a side character in the world of 'Upon a million stars' wouldn't be so bad after all. At least there was no student loan or debts that she had to pay anymore.

"Noble lady huh?"

She supposed she could have transmigrated into a worse character, like one destined for unavoidable death. But then again, there hadn't really been a character death in this light novel... at least not within the written pages...

"I guess it can't be that bad to try out a new lifestyle."

And so, her new life begun as Lady Rebecca Vanderwood – the noble daughter of the Vanderwood County.

Or at least she had tried to step into the role of the young lady.

With a lack of access to the original girl's memories, it was difficult to distinguish what was, and was not normal for the young brunette. So, in the end, Rebecca had simply resorted to doing the things that she had done when she was at that tender age of seven. Unfortunately, that didn't appear to be the correct choice to make.

"Our lady has changed!"

Betsy, the Head maid was at her wits end. Peeking through the door gap at the person at hand, the middle-aged woman whispered lowly to the butler standing beside her. Both were equally concerned about the drastic change in the young girl's behaviour recently.

"She asked me to bring her a book! A book, Hubert. In all seven years of her life, she would never pick up a book unless I made her do so."

Hubert touched the tip of his moustache. From where they were stood, Rebecca had her back to them in her sitting chair. She was silent, most likely reading a book, but what book she was reading, they did not know.

Overall, it was a rather unusual sight...

"Do you know which book she asked for now? A book about the statute? How does she even know that word!?"

At that, Hubert's eyes widened in surprise, turning to the woman as he tried to reason with her.

"Perhaps our lady has decided to stop with her theatrics and improve herself in life."

'And maybe stop getting herself hurt intentionally.'

It was no secret to Rebecca's staff why she had done the things she did, often making a large scene of things. Or attempting to throw tantrums, to cause trouble for them.

Now, she hadn't always been this way and was at one point the perfect example of a lady of her age. At least until the moment she seemed to grasp the reason why her situation was so different compared to young master Jonathan's. After that, everything seemed to change in the young miss's demeanour. Her parents never really showed their faces anymore (something that often unsettled her), so Rebecca had resorted to creating 'mischief' to capture their attention.

But it never worked. It was no wonder she had turned to such drastic measures like escaping into the back forest in the middle of the night. The incident that had led to her most recent accident.

And compared to that, this honestly seemed to be a better alternative in Hubert's opinion.

"Just give her the book, entertain her for a while – I doubt that Milady can barely read it."

Or so they had thought.

"She's reading it."

Betsy emphasised her words with a gesture of a hand, before tossing them up in the air. It was too much.

"Y – yes... she is."

Even the aged man was stunned for words.

"She looks like she understands it..."

Rebecca's chair was turned to the side this time, giving them a profile view of the reading young lady.

"Perhaps she's simply staring at the pages."

Hubert attempted to reason, after all... it was impossible for a seven-year-old girl who had neglected her education for the past few years, and whom hated to read (up till recently), could understand a book of that level of difficulty.

"We need to inform the Count and Countess!"

Betsy turned to him; gravely.

"Their daughter has changed!"

The butler turned to her, in an attempt to calm the woman down. Hubert could see that she was starting to panic even more now from the expression etched across her face.

"Now, now, now; no need to be hasty, Betsy. If the Count and Countess find out that their daughter has changed on our watch, it would be the end of us."

"How do you think I feel, Hubert!? I'm supposed to be overseeing her education!"

Betsy grabbed him now, grasping onto his uniform jacket as the woman gave the man a good shake. His old back be damned. He did not understand the great pressure the woman was under.

"Ever since she's woken up, I'm at my wits end because it's like she's gone back to square one. All those years of etiquette training had gone down the drain."

The young girl had used a soup spoon to scoop up her honey, her reason being that she liked her tea sweet. And don't even get her started on Rebecca's dancing... that had been an even bigger train wreck!

"They simply won't ever know then..."

Hubert told her, firmly plucking her hands off him.

"It's not like our lady is ever called upon to attend social events like the young master."

He fixed the appearance of his uniform, pressing down on the creases created by the woman's herculean grasps.

"True, we could just never bring it up."

The Head maid had to pause, taking the man's words into consideration.

'He has a point.'

"Indeed."

From her chair, a very aware Rebecca chose to blatantly ignore them. No need to let them know that she has essentially heard everything that was exchanged between the two – so much for attempting to be discrete. A word that nobody amoungst her staff appeared to be aware of.

She had always thought that it would be easy, adapting into somebody else's life – all the light novels, manhwas and webtoons made it look so. In actuality... it was hell.

Collapsing onto her bed, Rebecca had finally decided to throw in the towel... after a month of living in this body.

'Nope,'

"F*** it."

She buried her head beneath her soft pillow, grumbling as she did.

"I can't do this anymore."

Wasn't this supposed to be easy? After all, everything about Rebecca Vanderwood's life already seemed to be planned for her, with every tiny detail set in stone. All she had to do was step into the role, smile prettily and live it, it was as simple as that.

Regrettably, she had been wrong.

'Breakfast, dress fitting, noble young ladies' etiquette lessons and dancing... A lot of dancing.'

That was all little old Becky looks to do in her life... and were essentially everything that Susanne Prince hated.

She gets awoken by Betsy at the crack of dawn, something that came easily considering that she was forced into bed by 8pm. And what came after being dressed (in an unreasonable number of ruffles and layering in her opinion!) was like clockwork. Every detail of Rebecca's life was based on an hourly, day to day schedule that had been set by Countess Vanderwood – from the time she eats, to the very time she sleeps.

It was a rigid framework that left her little to no expressive freedom at all. And she detested it.

It was absolutely suffocating.

'It's no wonder Becky started acting out; she was probably going mad herself. And to think that her parents never even bothered to spare themselves a single moment of their time to visit their recently recovered daughter, yet they always spend their every waking moment with their son, if they could.'

Something that Rebecca had seen first-hand herself.

There had been times when she had looked out of the window to spot a young boy and a woman heading towards the garden, often formally dressed and well done up. Most likely headed for the tea parties held within, one that often featured many fancily dressed children around Jonathan's age. From the way the servants seemed to bow and curtsy at them, and how the guest greeted them, it had been easy enough to identify them as none other than Jonathan Vanderwood – baby brother 'dearest' and Countess Vanderwood – mommy 'dearest'.

There were instances when she had caught Jonathan peering back at her, most likely curious. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for mother dearest. The woman all together refused to even look her way, something that didn't surprise her anymore. It was obvious that she had casted her daughter aside intentionally to focus all her energy towards Jonathan.

The more she thought about it, the more she was slowly starting to understand that perhaps her accident in the forest was more than just a cry for attention... After all, neglection could do that to a child. And that just made her mad.

"Milady?"

The voice of Marie, Rebecca's personal maid rung out into the bedroom.

Marie peered her head into the bedroom, easily spotting the young girl's figure amoung her sea of ruffles as she sat up. Admittedly, the young maid had come by to check up on her lady after her little... blow up. She expected it though, she had seen the looks of irritation and frustration that had flickered across Rebecca's face briefly. It was only time now before she finally exploded, and Marie had been right – the young lady had indeed exploded, cursing the most profane of words as she did.

Something that both Hubert and Betsy still appeared to be recovering from. The older woman had practically fainted back in shock while the older man... wilted to say the least. Hence, the young woman took it upon herself to check up on the child, who all appeared to have recovered by the looks of it.

"Marie..."

Rebecca turned towards her with a smile on her lips, her mind evidently made up.

"Do you know where I could find something to dye my hair? A bleach of some sort or a potion that could change the colour of my hair?"

She was done living the life that her so-called 'parents' had laid out for her. No more would she live the way that they wanted her to.

'If they can't even spare me the time of their day to even see or parent me themselves, then why should I do or listen to what they say?'

No, that's not how things were going to work from now on. No, from here on out – Rebecca Vanderwood would live her own way, doing what she wants, and doing it her way. And there was nothing that they could say, or do was going to stop her.

"Change the colour of your hair?"

Marie was completely confused by the sudden bizarre request.

But Rebecca was certain of what she had wanted, nodding in confirmation.

"I guess that I could look into it..."

The young maid supposed that she could visit a few magic shops in town, perhaps there could be a spell paper or potion for that sort of thing.

"Excellent, that would be much appreciated, Marie."

"Do you mind if I ask, Milady, for what would you need it?"

Rebecca chuckled to herself.

"Oh, I guess you could say... that I'm just bored."

Little did she know, that that one familiar statement would repeatedly come to bring horrors upon the Vanderwood family.

"Oh, do keep this a secret from the Head maid and butler? A little one between the two of us – I'll even increase your pay."

"... yes, Milady."

And so, it began.

Growing up, five-year-old Jonathan Vanderwood felt like an only child – one pampered so dearly by his parents. Something that he understood very well.

It was no secret amoungst the inhabitants of the Vanderwood County that he was painfully more favoured than his elder sister, someone who he only came to learn about when a servant had let it slip in passing. But it had made sense now, the young girl he had frequently seen by the window in the Eastern wing of the manor (an area he was prohibited from entering). That girl was his sister. Somebody whom his mother had seemed determined to keep away from him. And just didn't understand why... but he had decided not to press further.

Yet, that didn't stop him from peeking over at her window every now and then. She used to always be sat there whenever he was on his way with mother to one of their hosted tea parties, sometimes watching but more recently, reading.

However, now... she all together seemed to have disappeared as her curtains have been drawn back, hiding her from the rest of the world. As if she hadn't been shunned enough.

It brought a sad pout onto his lips that he could not see his sister anymore, he could only hope that he would finally be able to speak to her face to face one day.

Unfortunately, the young boy had never accounted for it to have happen so soon.

"I must say, your wing of the manor is so much nicer than mine... and much more staffed."

Jonathan's eyes widened as he immediately turned away from his book to the source of the new voice. His wide blue orbs fell onto the young blonde-haired girl making her way into his bedroom. Her hair colour was different, but that face and those matching blue set of eyes – it was unmistakable.

"E – elder sister?"

Rebecca's childlike eyes met his, her lips curling up into a smile. Her hands were tucked behind her back as she stood in the centre of his bedroom now, sticking out like a sore thumb amoungst everything that was familiar to him.

"Hello, Jon,"

She greeted him, sweetly. A rather strange contrast to the cold, blank stares he used to receive from her through her glass windows.

Jonathan rose from his seat, walking over to the taller Vanderwood curiously.

"Elder sister? What are you doing here?"

Rebecca placed her small hands onto her brother's shoulders, grinning as she did.

"Would you be so kind to hear me out? After all, you should respect elder sister, shouldn't you?"

The young boy was rather confused by it all.

This was the first time they have ever spoken to each other before.

"... yes, I suppose so?"

"Excellent."

Rebecca's eyes dropped down as she grabbed at his shorts forcefully, her face now very serious.

"Give me your clothes."

Jonathan stepped back in mortification.

"W – what?"

But Rebecca was unrelenting, and much stronger than the smaller boy. Her hands had a firm grip on his dark slacks, much to his agony.

"Exchange clothes with me, Jon."

She told him, earnestly whilst tugging at his shorts.

"I want to wear pants."

Jonathan shook his head, he couldn't. He needed these pants; he had a tea party to attend soon. One with another one of mother's very important friends and their daughters. And for the first time ever, mother had finally agreed to let him attend by himself, unchaperoned.

"B – but mother said – "

He was promptly cut off.

"Mother said 'to get dressed', but she never specified what you needed to get dressed into for your tea party/. In fact, she had said 'dressed' so perhaps she wanted you to wear a dress. And seeing as you had none, your dear wonderful elder sister has come to your rescue – bringing in some of her own new dresses, to help you get 'dressed'."

Rebecca gestured over to her maid who had been standing idly by his door this entire time, her face rather impassive as she oversaw the entire scene silently. As Jonathan looked to her, it finally struck him that she was carrying one of Rebecca's dresses – a ruffled, tulle monstrosity.

He felt fear strike him to the core. He needed to get out of here, now!

"Isn't that so kind of me? Now, I myself, feel like wearing a pair of pants."

But unfortunately, he was at a disadvantage right now. He had never regretted sending his servants away so much as he did now.

"Now, strip, Jon. Or maybe you would like elder sister to do it for you?"

"N – no!"

"Come now, stop crying like a baby."

The poor boy never stood a chance.

"Come to dearest elder sister now... I promise, Jon, it'll be alright."

She had lied.

Jonathan will never in his life forget the humiliation of entering a societal tea party in a pink, ruffled dress by himself – his sister's pink ruffled dress; much to the horror of Countess Vanderwood. But at last, this was only the beginning. For she not only took his brand-new suit, but also his entire wardrobe, leaving behind her lovely hand-me-downs for brother dearest.

Something that she continually did without fail for an entire year. 

A summary:

A preview of Part Two:

Chapter Text

Countess Vanderwood was a prideful woman. One who valued face and appearances above everything else, something that she had worked hard to maintain through the years. Not only for herself, but her family as well. But lately... it appears as though the woman has lost all control of things.

Her once iron firm grasp has started to come undone. Everything that she had worked so hard to build over the years was all going to waste now, and all because her daughter had apparently decided to throw a 'fit'.

"She's getting out of hand, Charles!"

The woman had chosen to forgo the formalities, marching right into her husband's office as she proceeded to slam her hands down on his desk. She was putting her foot down, Rebecca's nonsense needed to be stopped now.

"We've practically lost all the potential suitors we had set up for Jon."

Countess Vanderwood tossed her arms in the air; she could feel her blood pressure rising by the second as she began to pace about in a stead to calm herself.

"Months of tea parties and garden walks all down the drain! Months!"

Count Vanderwood coughed to himself, putting down the documents that he had been viewing before his wife's abrupt interruption. He clasped his aged hands together across his desk before he spoke.

"Perhaps this is a sign, my dear."

Rebecca's antics over the past year had not gone unmissed in the Count's eyes, rather they were hard to ignore. Her new head of white blonde hair was hard to overlook half the time as she skipped across the halls of the manor, in areas much beyond her personal boundaries. Something that she had never dared to do before.

"That what? Your daughter has gone crazy? Absolutely mad!?"

The man coughed once more before speaking.

"No, maybe this is a sign that we have neglected her for too long. Perhaps she's simply acting out as a sign of jealousy."

Even Count Vanderwood had to admit that they were guilty of it.

"We have rather ignored her since Jon's birth."

"But Jon needs us more! He's to be the next Count Vanderwood, more attention needs to be put on him than Rebecca – who is just going to get married off anyway."

The woman shot back haughtily at him; her arm folded across her chest defiantly.

"Exactly. We've set up so many tea parties and meetings for Jon, and none for Rebecca. Perhaps she's gotten jealous from watching him interact with other children his age, after all, we have always kept her within her wing of the mansion."

Catching on quickly to the implication of her husband's words, Countess Vanderwood's mouth dropped open in mortification.

'No!'

She would forbid it!

"She's not ready! Unless you've forgotten, Rebecca has always been slow on the uptake, and simply doesn't learn as fast as her Jon does. She's not prepared to interact in society yet! Do you know what people will say if we let her out there, unsupervised of all things?"

"Then we'll just have to keep her supervised at all times then."

"Therefore, your father has decided that you will now attend these tea parties as well."

Countess Vanderwood was displeased. Her arms were folded across her chest as she stood before Rebecca in the young girl's bedroom, her irritation as clear as day. Evidently, the woman had failed to change her husband's mind in the end.

'Excuse me?'

The book in the young girl's palms lowered. The blonde raised a curious brow, but from the way the Countess's lips drew into a thin line of disapproval, it was clear that the woman refused to say any more than that. Instead, the older woman waited expectantly for a verbal response.

Something that Rebecca easily picked up on.

"Understood, mother."

Countess Vanderwood let out an annoyed huff, glancing off to the side as she looked to the outdoor gardens.

"In my opinion, you're still not ready enough... but what can I do? You're simply too envious of your brother."

Turning her nose up high, Countess Vanderwood said no more as she promptly excused herself. She left without a second glance, taking her entourage of personal maids with her as she left.

Rebecca scoffed, shutting her book close in amusement.

'So, that's what they decided happened.'

"My, my... things surely have escalated."

Her small fingers tapped against the surface of her round table as Marie approached, a teapot in hand as she refilled the young girl's cup of tea.

"Indeed. Though, are you envious of young master Jonathan?"

The young maid inquired, curiously. Even Marie had to admit, the question had come up a few times in her head over the past year.

"Of his pants collection? Of course."

Rebecca remarked as she slapped her exposed knee. The young girl was currently wearing a pair of shorts she had procured, only this time, she had intercepted the clothing delivery en route to his room.

'Of course, she'd focus on the pants.'

The young maid was only grateful that she had at least managed to put a stop to Rebecca's attempts of 'sibling bonding' by forcing the young master into her clothes – an action the young lady swears is normal between siblings. Especially elder sister – younger brother pairs. Marie had rolled her eyes at that, disbelievingly, but was pleased to know that her talk had at least made the young miss stop (something that the members of the young master's staff were grateful for).

For the time being, Rebecca had resorted to other methods/means of acquiring her supply of pants.

"And the tea parties, Milady?"

The girl's expression dropped into one of utmost disgust, it was all Marie needed to see.

"I don't suppose that you'll attend then."

"Oh no, I will most definitely attend. After all, father did try his hardest to convince mother, so I'll be there."

Marie stilled in her actions, her face blanking as she glanced back to see a smirk forming on the young girl's lips – a tell-tale sign that she was clearly up to no good. The young woman sighed, feeling a mild headache coming along.

"I'll warn the Head maid and butler then."

She didn't even want to know what the blonde had planned up her sleeves.

And so, it began... the worse possible mistake Count Vanderwood had made for that year (for now).

Count Vanderwood was a proud man – something that most people would not come to realise due to his rather overshadowing wife, but proud he was nevertheless.

He was a problem solver, one that was keen to snip away any problems at the bud, and his daughter was truly becoming an issue now. Therefore, the man had sniped at it, narrowing it all down to her blatant jealousy of her brother. Now, if they were to provide her with the same treatment as they did to Jonathan, then she'll finally have to be satisfied, thereby bringing all of her recent nonsense to an end.

It was just as simple as that.

But Count Vanderwood was not his wife, and he should have never underestimated a woman's intuition. Especially not when he was not even remotely close to being in charge of his children's education.

No, that was all Countess Vanderwood's responsibility. And the woman was very much aware of how disastrous this could all turn out to be.

At first, they had started small, inviting just a few young girls around Rebecca's age for an afternoon tea party. One that Jonathan did not attend due to a conveniently timed schedule clash.

"Hi,"

Rebecca approached the group of girls standing by the cake table, there were about five of them in total. All whom she had seen before through her bedroom window. She understood them to be the daughters of her mother's rivals/'acquaintances' friends, and Jonathan's potential marriage candidates. With a smile on her lips, she greeted them all friendly.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for her company.

The girls all shared a silent, yet telling look as their eyes flickered from her to each other. There was already a clear divide between them, if the contrasting colours and style of their clothing did not say enough.

From the group of girls, the one in the middle – whom Rebecca could only assume was the ringleader of the bunch, frowned at her disapprovingly. Her eyes scanned the blonde's chosen attire with disgust.

"... what are you wearing?"

"Clothes."

Her answer only served to annoy the other girl even more.

"But those are boy clothes."

Rebecca glanced down at her set of long black slacks that her white button up was tucked into and shrugged.

"They're pants – anyone can wear them regardless of their gender."

Her response was met with laughter and another round of glances, as though there was a big secret that they all (but her) knew. From the way their lips tilted upwards, to the predatory looks in their eyes, Rebecca could already see where this was going.

"That's not what my mother says."

The other girls nodded in agreement before another spoke up.

"My tutor would disagree as well. She says that young ladies like us should always remain delicate and poise in everything that we do."

To further emphasize her point, the girl did a small twirl on the spot; an action that was applauded by her friends around her.

"Unlike you."

Little Miss Madeline Moore pointed out, disapprovingly.

"I can't simply comprehend why you would like something so... dark, and plain."

'Well, it's better than the explosions of lace and brocading that you're wearing.'

Rebecca could not recall if this judgemental and catty behaviour was supposedly normal for eight-year-olds. But then again, most eight-year-olds girls weren't exactly expected to attend fancy high class tea parties and seek out potential marriage partners, whilst seizing up the competition at the same time. At least it wasn't back in her world.

In the end, she could only put this sort of attitude down as a product of the societal expectations imposed on the girls of this world. And that was kind of sad.

If Madeline and her entourage had hoped to see her breakdown into tears, they certainly were barking up the wrong tree because Rebecca did not seem remotely bothered in the slightest. If anything, she was more amused by the childishness of it all.

"It's practical,"

Rebecca told them, smirking as a little idea came to mind. Her blue eyes dropped to the plate of carrot cake that Madeline was holding – the last slice of carrot cake, a tea party favourite.

"In fact, let me show you."

Her hands moved quick, snatching away the plate from the girl's hands in a blink of an eye as Rebecca took off in a run.

"My cake!"

Something in Madeline snapped, suddenly the young girl picked up her skirts as she followed after Rebecca in hot pursuit.

"Give that back!"

The remaining girls looked to each other, uncertain of what to do... but eventually somebody started off in a run and soon they were all following after Madeline in a chase.

From the side-lines, a number of the Vanderwood County staff could not help but bite down their inner lips in an attempt to restrain themselves from laughing at the unfolding scene before them. They had been given strict instructions to ensure that this tea party was to run smoothly (for the sake of their salaries), but rather... it was starting to become more of a goose chase than a tea party at this point.

As mere commoner servants to the young noble lady who had started this so-called goose chase, they had no place to intervene in her decisions and actions. So, they simply spectated instead.

There was a wide grin splitting on Rebecca's lips now, she sent her lagging pursuers a smile back as she called out to them.

"See, you can't chase me down if you're wearing a dress as heavy as that!"

She looked back forth, and noticed that they were approaching a more forested area of the garden now.

"I bet you can't climb trees either."

By some sort of miracle, Rebecca scaled the nearest tree to her, climbing up the structure one-handed with ease. A feat that even the blonde-haired girl had to question for a moment.

'Light novel logic, there is no way this would be logically possible in real life – the cake still looks perfect, too perfect.'

Rebecca nodded to herself as she settled comfortably on the tree branch, plate of cake still in hand.

"Give that back! It was the last slice of lemon drop cake."

Madeline yelled, coming to a stop at the base of the tree as she glared up at Rebecca furiously.

'Lemon drop? Wasn't it carrot?'

The blonde took a moment to glance at the dessert, questioningly before staring back down at Madeline's reddened face.

Evidently, physical education was not a part of the young girl's curriculum of lessons as Rebecca could see that she was still panting heavily, her hands coming to rest on her knees. An action that was mimicked closely by the other members of her entourage that came in, one after another. Each looking even more tired than the one that arrived before them.

Rebecca gave them a moment before speaking, holding the plate out for them all to see.

"Then come here and get it yourself since you want it."

Blue orbs dropped to the trunk of the tree before meeting back at Madeline's grey ones, almost daring the young girl to try and get up here.

And for a moment, Madeline might have actually considered it from the way her hands reached out for the tree trunk, but one of her friends put their hand on her shoulder, shaking her head at her as she urged her not to do it.

At that, Madeline's hands dropped and clasped into tight fists angrily. Her head snapped back as she glowered heatedly at the blonde, bellowing as she did.

"My mother was right about you! No wonder you were locked away for so many years, you truly are a bad person."

'Is that what they believe?'

"You deserved to be locked up!"

Rebecca's eyes hardened, her smile dropping imminently from her face.

'No. No child deserves that.'

With a dead expression, she did not hesitate to tilt the plate forward and let gravity do the rest.

"My dress!"

There was a series of gasps, and looks of stunned horror that came from the girls below, but they were not directed at Rebecca.

"Opps."

The slice of cake had not landed on Madeline's head per say, but it had indeed struck the young girl's right shoulder, and had tumbled down into her mass of a dress. The cake's white cream frosting doing quite a number on the ruffled layers.

"Sorry, my hand slipped... but, at least you got your cake in the end."

Needless to say, Earl Moore was not pleased to find his daughter in a muddled mess of tears and cake bits when their family carriage had arrived back home later that evening. A complaint that he was very vocal about to both Count and Countess Vanderwood.

Following the disastrous outcome of Rebecca's first tea party with other young girls of her age, Count Vanderwood had decided that perhaps it would be best to take another course of action. But this time, by organising another small tea party for Rebecca with only young boys close to her age in attendance.

If his daughter wanted to be rowdy and tease her guests, then he would just have to invite guests that she could only try to do so too. He knew that these boys would have a much thicker skin than Earl Moore's daughter, after all, some had even started their knight training already. They should be able to handle his daughter. And who knows, maybe these young boys could potentially turn out to be her suitors in the future.

That was what he had convinced himself of at least. 

"What's wrong with you?"

Rebecca crossed her arms across her chest, raising a brow as she frowned at her 'guests' in front of her. It was round two of the tea parties, and already she could feel herself starting to fall into a repeat of the first one.

"What's wrong with what?"

The brown-haired boy's face scrunched as he stared at her distastefully, or more specifically at the clothes that she wore – a matching navy suit set with gold brocade. An outfit that closely resembled his own dark green set.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

Rebecca's frown only deepened, an action that did not go unmissed by her company.

"Oh, leave her alone, Ben. Jon's sister can dress however she likes."

A dark blonde-haired boy spoke up, smiling up at Rebecca, who was only a few mere centimetres taller than himself.

"Thank –"

"By taking his scrapes from the previous season,"

A sneer came to his lips as he continued in his taunts. Something that the other boys didn't seem willing to stop; in fact, Ben was practically smirking by the dark blonde's side, loving every second of this.

"Wasn't it supposed to be the younger sibling that always got the old hand-me-downs? I guess that doesn't seem to apply over here. What a real shame."

Rebecca chuckled, a reaction that they did not expect at all from the young girl if their facial expressions were anything to go by.

'Did you think I'd cry?'

"...you're right."

The blonde-haired girl smiled back at them.

"It is a real shame."

Her eyes dropped to the dark blonde's red velvet pants.

"Say, those pants of yours look really nice,"

Rebecca's eyes flickered over to a pair of dark green ones.

"Those too, Ben."

Ben looked smug, puffing his chest up proudly at the compliment.

"Of course, they're the latest fashion. My mother had them personally tailored for me."

"That's nice, we look to be around the same length."

The blonde had stuck her leg out and eyed the length of Ben's pants against hers, she eyeballed the measurements and hummed to herself. An action that raised a few eyebrows around her.

Ben stared at Rebecca in confusion, his mouth opening to speak.

"What are y – "

He was promptly cut off when Rebecca's hands grabbed hold of his pants, a widening smile on her lips as her eyes twinkled mischievously. Ben could not explain it, but he felt an inner sense of panic go off, he was fearful of what was to come.

"Hey, why don't you let me have a try? Since you're so proud of them."

If Rebecca's previous tea party had been likened to a goose chase, the servants of Vanderwood manor could only liken the events of this tea party to a hunt – their young mistress had not been merciful in the slightest, leaving no guest spared as each and every member of the Junior Knight Order were reduced to tears.

With every option so far ending in a catastrophe, Count Vanderwood had decided to take a different approach in his plan.

Now, it was clear to him that before he could even remotely bring in the idea of outside guests, he would first have to fix Rebecca's terrible manners and habits. So, he decided to keep it within the family, with a simple tea party between the four of them.

But even then...

"As – I was – "

Countess Vanderwood paused in her words as she gritted her teeth tightly, her story put on hold as the woman could not even hear herself think. She glanced over to the young girl seated across her, a tense smile on her lips.

"Can you please chew more softly, Rebecca?"

"Behaviour is learnt through observation, mother."

Rebecca retorted back, plainly. The young girl's hands reached for another chocolate coated teacake as she added.

"If I chew loudly, it's probably because I've seen it from you all those times that I stared out the window, mother."

The woman's grip on her cup hand tightened, her forced smile straining.

"Really mother, you should stop chewing so loudly. It would be terrible if Jon learnt it – oh no, what if he already has? Quick Jon, chew!"

Jonathan froze, his blue eyes widening as he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He glanced nervously between his sister and mother, unsure of what to do. In the end, he obligated with Rebecca's demands, chewing quietly to himself.

"Oh, thank goodness, he's normal!"

Rebecca laughed to herself, before she popped another teacake into her mouth.

Countess Vanderwood sent her husband a heated glare, her displeasure evident more than ever.

"Charles."

She had practically hissed the words out of her mouth.

'Your plan is not working.'

Count Vanderwood could already hear the words jumping out of her head. Sighing to himself, the tired man put his tea cup down and finally decided to throw in the towel. It appears that for the first time in a long time, the man had failed to solve a problem.

And so, the tea parties finally came to an end.

A conclusion that pleased Rebecca immensely as the young girl was finally able to return to her moments of reading in silence.

All was at peace in her world again.

However, it was to not to last for very long; for a few months later came a special invitation stamped with the Royal family's crest. An invitation for Jonathan and herself, to a grand tea party in the Royal Palace's gardens. One hosted by none other than the Crown Prince – a social event that no noble young lady could dare avoid or miss, and an occasion that all adult nobles clearly understood to be the Crown Princess candidate selection.

A once in a lifetime opportunity for young girls within the Capital to meet in person with the Crown Prince, and gain his attention in hopes of securing a spot as a potential candidate for the Crown Princess seat.

Or at least that was the impression that all the nobles were under, a 'fair and just' opportunity for all.

Nonetheless, Rebecca understood this to be a lie, a false ray of hope since the Crown Prince's fiancé has already been selected by now. If she recalled correctly, there had been a scene in the original novel where the Crown Prince had confided in the heroine about his tense relationship with his fiancé.

"We've been engaged for ten years now, and never once have I felt a single moment of affection for her as I do with you."

The Crown Prince had been nineteen years old, and in his final year at the academy when the heroine eventually entered his life as a transfer student. That would mean he had gotten engaged at nine, and considering that the occasion for celebration stated on the invitation was for his tenth birthday, it was apparent to her that the King and Queen were just giving out a pretence of false hope here. His engagement to Duke Archibald's eldest daughter will most likely only be announced once the party has passed, and after they had supposedly 'held' an impartial Crown Princess candidate selection.

Regardless, with this event put in place, it gave Rebecca the opportunity to assess the storyline's timeline and estimate the key story events that were to eventually play out in the near future. It would be a great chance for her to finally watch the story unfold before her very eyes, something that she was excitedly looking forward to!

But first thing first – she had to attend the Crown Prince's tea party. It was an event that she, the daughter of the Vanderwood family, was simply not allowed to skip (much to the horror of her parents). After all, as she had reasoned to her parents, it would reflect badly on their family name and could be seen as an insult to the Crown if she did not attend since the invitation was directly addressed to her.

And so, Rebecca Vanderwood went – to the last social event she would ever attend before she 'disappeared'.

"These are actually pretty nice,"

Rebecca commented, her back turned to the rest of the party as she occupied herself at the food table.

It has been at least half an hour since she had arrived at the tea party, but not even once did a single person, guest nor attendee even come up to greet her. She guessed she should have expected as much, since she was certain that the catastrophic details of her failed tea parties had already spread around the Capital, and into all circles of noble society.

She was sure that she would be ostracised at the party; after all, nobody socially conscious enough would dare associate themselves with a noble that appears to be destined for ruin.

It probably didn't help either that she had decided to forgo her mother's (demands) advice to wear a dress this time, opting for her favourite white and gold pinstriped suit set instead. Not to mention that her brother had practically been whisked away by his noble friends from the moment the Vanderwood pair stepped through the garden gates, presumably in an attempt to salvage the poor boy's social standing by dissociating him from her.

If her suspicions were correct, Jonathan was most likely in a group somewhere far from her in an assembly of onlookers who were whispering and pointing fingers behind her back, as if she didn't already know what they were thinking. It doesn't look like she would get the chance to talk to anybody any time soon, and to make matters worse, she had not even seen a single glimpse of the novel's male lead yet!

'Aren't hosts supposed to greet each and every guest upon their arrival or something?'

The blonde hadn't even seen a hint of the Crown Prince, and she had to say that she was a little disappointed. Maybe she would get lucky later, and if things went well, she'd even be able to spot his fiancé – the villainess of 'Upon a million stars'.

A frown etched across her features as she tried to reminiscence more about the details that she had previously read about the character, but was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of an approaching set of low-heeled shoes. They came to a halt next to her.

"The teacakes beside them are much more preferable."

A soft, yet warm voice spoke from beside her as a light green fan came to view, pointing over to the plate of chocolate covered teacakes resting on the three-tiered cake stand to her right.

"Oh, are they?"

Rebecca glanced over at the young girl who was dressed in a rather simple, green lace trimmed dress. Her face was partially obscured by a matching laced bonnet on her head that made it difficult for the blonde to make out her features from the side.

"I guess I'll have to take you up on your suggestion."

The young girl reached out and plucked a teacake up with her white gloved hands as she held it out for the blonde to take.

"Here,"

With her face turned towards her, Rebecca could see that the girl's dark green orbs contrasted strongly against her pallid face. A friendly smile adorned her lips, practically urging the blonde-haired girl to take the treat from her. A gesture of kindness that she hadn't really experienced before in her previous tea parties.

"Oh... thank you."

She held her plate out as the brunette placed the teacake on it.

"Not at all."

The girl reached for a napkin, continuing to speak as she did.

"You're quite brave, coming to an event like this dressed the way you are. I could never..."

Rebecca shrugged, offhandedly.

"Well, if I'm going to come to something that I hate, I might as well come like how I want."

There was a pause of stillness before the girl responded.

"That's an interesting way to look at things."

"Isn't it better that way? To do what you feel you're comfortable with?"

The blonde took a bite of the recommended teacake, speaking once more after she finished chewing.

"Personally, I think people would all be much happier that way."

"But some people may not like what you're doing,"

"And so, what?"

Rebecca told her, bluntly.

"It's my life, not theirs. Why should they get to dictate every moment of it?"

Silence.

The suited girl could practically hear the clogs of the other girl's head turning, probably in deep thought as she processed the blonde's declarative statement.

Now that Rebecca thought about it, they never did introduce themselves, did they?

"Say, what's your na–"

Her words cut off abruptly; she suddenly felt wet as droplets of an unknown liquid dribbled down the blonde's face. From the now brown stains that appeared on her jacket, she had a sipping suspicion that it was tea.

'The f***...'

"Begone evil witch!"

A new voice declared from behind her, that was accompanied by a flurry of snickers and giggles.

Rebecca turned to face her perpetrator; her expression not amused in the slightest as her blue orbs landed on the blonde-haired boy across her. His arm still extended out towards her, an empty white porcelain teacup in hand.

His smirk dipped into a frown as he glanced back to the black-haired boy beside him, pointing a finger at her face unsurely.

"She's not melting. I thought you said that she would melt, Jenkins."

"Apparently not."

Jenkins mused, a grin still playing on his lips.

"But I could have sworn that she was a witch, I mean, who else would dare to come to my tea party dressed... like that?"

He gestured to her now tea-stained white suit.

'Your tea party?'

The young boy nodded back in confirmation.

"But it's alright now, I've done you a favour."

Rebecca clicked her tongue, her words coming out disbelievingly.

"A favour?"

The blonde-haired buffoon, now identified as the Crown Prince Wilhelm Dale the Third nodded, folding his arms in front of him proudly.

"Yes, now you have an excuse to go get changed, preferably into something more suitable for young ladies."

"... and my current attire isn't suitable for a young lady?"

"No. It's not. Wasn't the latest fashion, white bottom frilled dresses? All the other girls that came are wearing them, so I can't see why you couldn't do the same."

Rebecca could not believe this, the blonde had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Blonde brows scrunched up confusedly as the Crown Prince frowned.

"What's so funny?"

The young girl shook her head to herself, chuckling now as she did.

"My, I was just thinking to myself how much you reminded me of something,"

She admitted, holding his gaze with her own as she spoke. Her eyes flickered briefly to his blonde hair for a moment, it was a familiar shade...

"A plant, one that would commonly be seen in a garden."

"A rose perhaps? My looks have been lik –"

Rebecca cut him off, pointing an indicative figure right to his forehead seriously.

"A weed."

She told him, plainly as she nodded to herself in affirmation.

"You're like a really pesky, weed that simply refuses to go away no matter how many times I pluck it out."

He was outraged by the comparison.

"What!?"

Rebecca sighed at the booming volume of his voice, bringing her free hand up to her ear in an attempt to block him out.

"So annoying. It seems like the only way to get rid of you is to properly burn you."

"Burn me?"

The blonde boy repeated in shock before his mouth fell open in astonishment; never before in Wilhelm's life had he ever been subjected to such treatment.

"Hold my plate,"

Rebecca passed her plate into the hands of the stunned brunette behind her before turning back to the clown of a Crown Prince. Her orbs did not miss the white floral teapot sitting on the table beside her as she moved to pick it up – it was cold, but he didn't need to know that. A smile plastered onto her lips as she took steps forth towards him, the very same time him and his friends instinctively moved back.

"Oh yes, I think you could really use a good burning. Fortunately for me, there happens to be a nice freshly made pot of hot tea right here. Since you evidently didn't mind pouring a cup of hot tea on me, I don't suppose you would mind if I did the same!"

Catching on quickly, they turned to run.

"Where are you going? Weeds don't run, not unless they're tumbleweeds!"

Rebecca called out as she followed hurriedly after them, teapot armed in hand.

'Like my old grandfather always used to say, if you can't graze them to the ground, burn them.'

Although in retrospect, Rebecca did suppose that her old man had probably been referring to actual vegetation weeds when he used to tell her that. Nevertheless, she was thoroughly convinced that the principle still applied in this situation as well.

***

"She threw a teapot at the Crown Prince!"

Countess Vanderwood slammed her palms against her husband's desk, her chest heaving heavily in anger as she pointed an accusative finger back at the young girl standing behind her.

Rebecca shrugged; her hands tucked behind her back. She didn't understand why her mother was so fussed, after all...

'He dodged it didn't he?'

A tragedy, a real shame in her opinion.

Unfortunately, her mother seemed to disagree, throwing an absolute fit right now. She sent her husband a knowing look, as if she hadn't already warned him priorly that their daughter was simply not ready to appear in high society.

"We're only so lucky that His Royal Highness was so kind to forgive us, simply dismissing it as child's play."

She turned to her daughter; a furious glare carved onto her face.

"You."

Countess Vanderwood began, but soon found herself unable to continue.

In the past, Rebecca would have easily been reduced to a quivering mess by now, always afraid to disappoint her mother. Now, she didn't seem apologetic nor guilty in the slightest, and that only went on to fuel the older woman's frustrations.

She gave up, throwing her hands in the air as she looked back to her husband.

"Urgh, I cannot even face her. You deal with your daughter."

Without another word, the woman took her leave. Most presumably on a journey to vent her frustrations away, which would probably occur during an unwarranted shopping spree.

One where Rebecca was certain she would not be receiving anything from.

"Yes, my dear... Rebecca,"

Tiredly, Count Vanderwood looked to his daughter. The bags beneath his eyes, an evident product of his daughter's recent antics.

"Yes, father?"

Rebecca smiled, sweetly. A look of innocence on the young girl's face – one which he knew to be a lie.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It's a damn shame that I missed."

Count Vanderwood sighed at her response, bringing a hand to rub his forehead where he was certain a headache was beginning to form.

'Of course, she would say that.'

Why was he not surprised?

"You could have been arrested and stripped of your place in society."

The older man warned her, his tone turning more serious now.

Not that it had much effect on the child to begin with as Rebecca snorted, folding her hands across her chest now.

"Under what law? What article? Last time I checked, father. A teapot does not account as a threat against the Royal family, not unless floral glazed ceramics suddenly got classified as such."

Her father let out a groan, completely done with the situation at hand.

'Again, with laws and articles.'

He simply didn't understand it, the change in his child had come all too quickly and much too suddenly. Before his daughter's accident, Rebecca used to be painfully shy, incredibly awkward and would never even dare to look her mother in the eye. However, upon waking up, she was loud, outspoken with her endless knowledge of loopholes and didn't even seem remotely bothered (or terrified) of her mother's disapproving gaze. Even going so far to yawn in the older woman's face, much to his wife's absolute ire.

Nevertheless, there was only so much he could let her get away with at times.

"Rebecca, I'm afraid that we will have to ground you."

And ground her they did.

Or at least, that was supposed to be the plan.

'Ground me? More like isolate me.'

From behind her bedroom window, Rebecca watched in amusement as the 'garden landscapers' (as her father had pathetically described them to be) built a wall, one that appeared to block the young girl's view of the family's garden where she knew her brother would be having another social tea party of his today. It was clear that it had been her mother's intention to cut her out of high society as punishment for her actions and behaviour at the blonde idiot Crown Prince's tea party.

It was hardly much of a punishment though.

In fact, it only seemed to entertain Rebecca further.

"How high do you think they intend to build that ridiculous wall, Marie?"

The maid, who had been in the midst of preparing the young lady's tea, paused in her actions. Her eyes glancing out to the window at the wall that had caught Rebecca's attention.

"I'm not sure, I do believe that the Count had requested it to be built high enough so that (and I quote) 'she won't see her brother outside having fun without her and get jealous'."

Rebecca chuckled before she remarked.

"Amusing."

Marie turned to her lady, curiously.

"You don't look very worried about the prospect of spending the rest of your life locked behind a wall, Milady."

Rebecca scoffed in response, waving an unbothered hand as she did.

"Concerned? Me? Please, not at all."

Instead, she simply smiled back at her maid.

"I'll just leave the same way you all do,"

Marie blinked, stunned.

"Pardon?"

Rebecca turned away from the window, marching towards her table where Marie had laid out her lunch.

"The servant's quarters, there's a tunnel that leads out to the back, doesn't it?"

'How did she...'

Marie bit her bottom lip, unsure of how to respond. After all, that tunnel was meant to be kept a secret, and was for servant use only. She doubted that even the Countess really knew it existed.

"... well,"

Marie began, but was promptly cut off by Rebecca.

"It's the way that you, Hubert and Betsy use when you all take your day off. I shall simply use that path to go out when I feel like, you didn't I wouldn't notice it, did you?"

She could see the determined look in her eyes. At that, Marie knew that it would be pointless to deny any further.

"No, Milady."

"Excellent, I shall take my leave in a few days. Perhaps after playing the 'repenting daughter' first."

It was a few days later when she finally did leave, cheerfully waving off to her three servants (two whom were on the verge of breaking down, and in complete panic mode, as they feared for their lives if the Count and Countess were to ever discover they had let her out) as she ventured into the great outdoors. Her clothes were swapped for a simpler set as she wore a dark hood over her head, concealing her youthful features.

Smiling to herself, Rebecca followed the walking path that she knew would lead her to the small-town square that served as a sort of center within the Vanderwood territory.

Despite having lived in this body for a good two years since her transmigration, this would actually be the first time that she has gone out to see the rest of her family's estate beyond the manor for herself. She had always read up about it, consulting in the family's archival records to build a better picture in her mind about her family and their territorial standing in noble society, but there was only so much you could envision from text.

From what she remembered, the Vanderwood County, like a majority of noble families, was similar in a way to a landed gentry – they lived off the rental income and locally sourced supplies that the territory's residents paid, and produced. The only thing that made them different from the feudal lords was that their family actually got to keep their peerage, so their hereditary titles could be passed down through the heads of family.

'Not that it would ever come to me.'

No, that title and responsibility was all Jonathan's, and he could keep it.

Rebecca hummed to herself, rather enjoying the scenic nature walk. She had spent so long coped up within the confines of the mansion's walls, the blonde agreed that she could use a change of scenery and breath of fresh air as she stretched her arms out wide. Her feet came to a still as her blue set of eyes spotted a wooden building not far off in the distance.

"Isn't that a tavern?"

Curious about her suspicions, the young girl hurried in her stead before coming to stop in front of the building now confirmed to indeed be a traveller's tavern.

'I wonder...'

Pushing against the wooden door, she entered the establishment. In all honesty, she expected to get yelled at or shooed out the moment she stepped foot into the place... but so far, nobody really seemed to pay her any mind. They were all pretty preoccupied with their own things.

It gave her a chance to take a better look of the place; her eyes scanned the surrounding interiors.

'Good so fa – what the hell...'

Her wandering gaze immediately came to a halt at the central back wall of the room where a large portrait hung. It was unmistakably a painting of her father in his youth (before the wrinkles that came with his wife), as if the inscription below did not already confirm his identity; but that was not what had her shock.

It was the fact that the man seemed to have made it compulsory for each establishment within his territory to display a portrait of him, as a tribute in a way. Because if given a choice, she didn't believe that they would have hung it willingly. She certainly wouldn't have.

'How big can your ego get?'

A sour look found its way onto her small face. Feeling mildly disturbed at her discovery, Rebecca decided that perhaps it was time for her leave, turning on her heels as she did.

"That damned Count is at it again."

She instantly paused in her steps, her attention intrigued.

"There's no way that I'll be able to fork up that much money in time."

Turning to the source of the conversation, she noticed that it came from a table in the corner where three men sat. From their attire, she easily identified them to be three tenant farmers who were living off the Vanderwood's leased land in the county.

"Since when were our land rentals so damn high?"

One of the farmers complained, sighing as he took a sip of the mug in his hand. They must probably be on a break right now.

"Well, the man does have to pay taxes, doesn't he? His money has got to come from somewhere."

His fellow friend chirped in, giving his two cents of logic.

"Yeah, us."

The last of the trio snorted, scowling as he did. He gave the other two a pointed look as he spoke.

"I'm telling y'all, my gut's telling me that there's something strange about it all."

'Taxes?'

Rebecca's ears perked up, her interest piqued as the young girl turned and approached the table of men. She tapped one of them on their shoulder, stunning them with her unexpected presence but she eased them with a smile.

"Excuse me, but would you be so kind to tell me a little more about these um, taxes?"

She remembered coming across a general ledger once.

It had occurred a while back, during one of her wanderings about the manor where she had found herself within her father's office. He had been absent of course, but his documents sure were not. Being the ever so curious child she was, she took a brief glance at the general ledger and financial statements that he had left behind on his desk.

Now, she was no accounting student but she got the main gist of the ledger's four sections, skimming briefly over the numbers in the income section, and then at the financial statements. She remembered pausing for a second, confused as she had found it strange how the numbers didn't seem to match up at the time, but now...

It was starting to make sense now.

'This cunning old man...'

The blonde girl could feel her irritation boil over.

'This sneaky, conniving old man!'

He was increasing the land rent under the guise that he had to pay higher taxes to the Crown, which was a complete lie because their family were exempted from paying taxes! However, the common folk don't know that, nor the fact that her father was practically stealing from them. And he knew that he was stealing from them! Why else would he go to such lengths to falsify his financial records?

Rebecca wouldn't be surprised if her father had used other underhanded methods to pocket some money a bit, here and there too. Just the thought of it all... she felt as though a flame had been ignited from within – one that thirsted for a revolution...

She slammed her fist down hard on the table, shocking the farmers sitting around her.

"You're being duped! All of you. How dare he selfishly take more than what is supposed to be collected in his duty? Who does he think makes this land prosper?"

The blonde girl roared as she stood up, catching the attention of the people in the tavern as they tuned in to her speech.

They did not reply, and Rebecca took it as a cue for her to continue.

"It surely isn't him, no. It is you, the people! The tenant farmers, the millers and all the manual labourers that put your hearts, sweat and tears into your craft."

There were murmurs of agreement.

"Yeah, she's right!"

Somebody yelled out, lifting their mug of beer in the air.

"But what can we do about it? The Count's got an army. We can't just suddenly start an uprising, we'd easily get crushed."

Rebecca turned to the person who spoke up, addressing their concerns as she did.

"Then we must make him listen to our demands."

A middle-aged man at the bar snorted, waving the young girl's words off as he took another sip of his mulled wine.

"Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that? They'd arrest us commoners by the gate."

"We rebel,"

He choked on his beverage, completely caught off guard by her curt response. But he was not the only one.

"Rebel?"

Rebecca nodded, folding her arms across her chest as she sat down on the table top with her legs crossed.

"We shall rebel by doing nothing – stopping all forms of labour and manufacturing. Make enough, but only for yourselves, and leave nothing behind for him to collect. Most of the food and the items that get sent to the Count's mansion are from you people, if you all stop producing food, and go on a strike, he will have no choice but to entertain your demands."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then him and his family will starve, they will have no raw ingredients or food supplies to cater to their tea parties and lavish dinner meals. They would lose face if it came to that, and the Countess really does hate to lose face amongst her friends because it would simply make them look like the laughing stock of society."

She promptly stated.

There was a moment of silence as they took a few seconds to let her words sink in.

"... I like it."

"So do I."

Suddenly, the tavern seemed to come to life once more as people stood up in their seats.

"Spread the word! We shall all strike tomorrow. But what should we do if we're not going to work anymore?"

The blonde girl replied, tossing in a few more ideas whilst she still had the chance to do so.

"You can protest! Make signs and march right up to his house, yell for him to come down and face you lot like the man that he is. You can protest at the town square too, by splitting your protests to two places at the same time - he'll have no choice but to split his army in half. His men will have to come in smaller groups, but you'll have the upper hand with numbers if more people get involved."

"That also sounds good."

"Great,"

She turned to the painting at the back, pointing a directive finger at it.

"Then we can start by burning his portrait down first because he really doesn't look that young anymore."

"My Lord, we have a serious problem!"

Count Vanderwood glanced up briefly from his desk, raising a questioning brow to the servant that had just burst through the door. A sense of urgency in his voice as the young man spoke.

"The common folk have revolted! They've stopped producing anything at all, the kitchen's supplies are running low. And now they've taken to protesting outside our main gates, there's a mob out there that has started to form!"

'A revolt and protest?'

The elder man's eyes narrowed, a frown on his lips as he placed his pen down.

In the past, there had been a few times when the common folk of the Vanderwood territory had attempted to uprise, but they had been minor instances that were easily dealt with by his personal army. However, for both a production revolt and a protest to be happening at the same time, it was too much of coincidence to be true. It was too planned, too shrewd...

"Whose their leader? Who's mad enough to start all of this mess?"

He asked the servant, a scowl on his face. He did not like it when people caused trouble in his estate and he was going to make it known; he would make an example of this person so that they would never dare to go against him again.

For a moment the servant seemed hesitant, but after a while, he finally answered. Glancing down nervously at the ground as he did.

"Your daughter."

"Isn't she supposed to be grounded!?"

Coming out from behind the servant, Countess Vanderwood stormed straight into the office. The woman had only just caught the end of their conversation, but she already had her suspicions about the identity of the culprit behind it all. It did not surprise her to know that Rebecca was behind this.

"Charles, we have to get rid of her – make her disappear, for good."

For once, Count Vanderwood couldn't have agreed more with his wife.

But first, they would need to pacify her needs before they could even get to that.

Sitting at a dingy wooden table in a traveller’s tavern within his territory, Count Vanderwood nervously wiped his forehead with a handkerchief as he tried to read his daughter’s facial expression for a sign, or anything really. It was hard for him to know what she was thinking right now.

And it really didn’t help the fact that the young girl was practically surrounded by a hoard of glaring commoners behind her, many who did not even bother to hide their sharp bladed farming tools or distaste for him. Not to mention, his desecrated portrait on the wall…

‘Right, let’s just ask.’

“Have you taken a look at the agreement; Rebecca dear?”

Rebecca nodded, placing the labour contract back down on the table. It was a peace treaty of a sort, a renegotiation for the rights of the people on this land, and a document that outlined in great (fine) detail about the relationship of the landowner and his tenants.

“We have,”

The blonde-haired girl remarked, her hands clasped together across the table.

“And…?”

“We agree,”

He felt a tide of relief hit him.

“But after a few amendments,”

Suddenly he wasn’t celebrating so much anymore as he watched Rebecca hold her hand out to the crowd behind her.

“Pass me the pen over there please.”

“Amendments?”

Rebecca nodded, smiling as she did.

Count Vanderwood felt an unexplainably sense of dread creep upon him, he knew that look in her eyes… he knew it very well.

“Now, how about we renegotiate this to be just a little bit fairer, father.”

Now, it was not uncommon for noble families to banish their daughters away from time to time, in an attempt to hide them away from the judgement and prying eyes of high society. In a number of instances, it always had something to do with the fact they were either no longer chaste, a scandal, a secret love affair gone wrong, or even worse – an unwarranted pregnancy with a man who was not her fiancé.

There were numerous reasons along those lines, but looking down at the young girl whom Count Vanderwood had brought to him today, Father Reginald could not help but feel that this might not be the case this time.

The young blonde stared back at him blankly as she was rather unbothered by the situation at hand. A startling cry from the weeping messes that noble young ladies normally came in when they’re banished to the covenant by their families.

Count Vanderwood dropped to his knees before the priest, as he clasped his hands together in desperation.

“Father, please! We’re begging you, you’re our last hope! Please save our daughter.”

Rebecca snorted; her mouth opened as she snarked.

“– inserts unforgivable swear words – “

If his eyes could drop out of their sockets, they would have. The older man stared wide eyed at the young girl before momentarily turning away to mumble a small prayer for himself and his tainted ears. Turning back, he faced the defeated nobles before him.

“I’m afraid she cannot be saved.”

The man turned to face Rebecca as he made a small gesture towards her, whispering as he did.

“May the Lord have mercy on her soul.”

Rebecca blinked blankly, completely unfazed by it all.

Eventually, through some sort of unknown means, Count Vanderwood was finally successful in finding a church that would accept their daughter into their convent to continue her education. And the best part of it all (much to the great relief of her parents), the church was a great distance away from the Capital, located in the remote territory of the Dahnes Viscounty. 

So, Rebecca Vanderwood ‘disappeared'… but it was only just the beginning. 

In a summary: 

Chapter Text

It was funny sometimes… how institutions could easily be bought over by the subtle promise of a large ‘donation’, a blank check and the smell of desperation…

Though, she’d like to think that the Sisters at the Rosemary Convent welcomed her with open arms more so because they were an accepting community, one that believed in giving out second chances. And not at all because they were influenced, or swayed by the power of money.

Well, at least that was the impression one nine-year-old Rebecca Vanderwood had gotten when the young girl first arrived at the secluded countryside monastery, with only a bag in her hand and a hat on her head. Her father had truly done his best to avoid attracting attention, by renting an unmarked carriage and practically sending her off in the dead of night.

After Father Reginald’s blatant rejection to admit her, Count Vanderwood had practically spent a month writing to every possible monastery in the country (and some out of the country), practically begging politely requesting that they accept her into their institution under the premise of ‘helping to further her education’. But at last, it seems that her reputation had even spread beyond high society. So much so that even members of the religious sector had heard of it, because how else would they have rejected his admission requests so promptly. 

From amongst all the institutions that he had written to, it had been only Rosemary Convent that had seemed willing enough to accept her into their folds. Something that her father had jumped on immediately, because within an hour he had her off in a single passenger no-named carriage, travelling unaccompanied (minus the driver) into the depths of the Dahnes territory quite a distance away.

She did not doubt for a second that he had the carriage prepared for quite some time now, and could only imagine how much her parents must be rejoicing, knowing that they finally succeeded in sending her away, for once. That was one less thorn in their lives and future ambitions.

But it did not bother her too much. After all, she was finally free of all the constraints and scrutiny of noble society, and the people within it. 

She was delighted by her newfound freedom, though Rebecca did have to admit that she truly didn’t know what to expect from Rosemary Convent, or the monastery life at all. And that was mainly because she didn’t really know much about it.

Other than the fact that the Church and its monasteries were somehow connected to the Holy Temple, the novel never really touched upon their role within society outside of the fact that they were just simply connected. Then again, even the Holy Temple itself was never very much elaborated on either within the story, which was probably due to the fact that the heroine and the main characters of ‘Upon a Million Stars’ never actually got involved with them.

Being a typical romance story based in a prestigious academy setting, there was not much room for the author to really bring the role of the Holy Temple into the main storyline – a real shame in her opinion and only because there was so much potential there for the plot to grow. 

But right now, it felt like she was diving into the unknown, beginning an exploration into the depth of the novel world far beyond the confines of its actual written pages…

And frankly, she looked forward to it.

Yet sometimes, she just had to wonder…

‘What the hell do they think I did to get sent here in the first place? Or better yet, what the hell did my father tell them about me?’

“ Oof , she’s laying it on thick today.”

Hilda drawled, amusedly. The gingered hair girl with the boyish haircut did not even try to hide her curiosity as she leaned an arm behind her chair and turned back to blatantly stare.

“Indeed,”

Tilly agreed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she too glanced behind Rebecca’s head for a sneak peek. Though, the dark haired girl was a bit more discrete in her actions. 

“Sister Yvonne looks like she could burn holes through your pretty little head by how heatedly she gazes at you.”

The twin-tailed bespectacled girl noted, thoughtfully. 

“As always,”

Playing along with their usual dinner time banter, the blonde haired girl took a finger and faked a stray tear running down her face dramatically as she held her fork.

“I can feel them burning.”

And that was the truth.

There truly was a prickling sensation of discomfort poking at the back of her neck, and she would not doubt for a second that Sister Yvonne’s hawklike stare was the cause of it.

“She’s been at it ever since day one, when your carriage dropped you off at the front steps.”

Hilda told her, finally shifting her attention back to their rather humbled, vegetarian meal. She stabbed her fork into a green pea.

“So, just what did you do to get casted off here, Becks?”

She asked the younger girl, curiously.

Rebecca let out a small hum in response. Now, there were a lot of reasons for that.

‘But the revolution had to be the cherry on top of the cake and the final nail in the coffin for them.’

Her parents had held out a lot over the years (well Count Vanderwood had)… but it seemed that once she had begun to meddle into their administrative business and the land contracts, her parents had finally decided that she just had to go.

Though, if she had to be completely honest, the blonde was genuinely clueless to the reason behind Sister Yvonne’s animosity towards her. Nevertheless, she could take a pretty good guess why.

A nine-year old noble girl being exiled from her family’s estate at the dead of night, to a convent far, far away; the nun must have only assumed the worst and convinced herself that the young girl had sinned much too early.

And to be fair, Rebecca was truly not far off from the truth, for Sister Yvonne did indeed assume the very worst when it came to the latest addition to their monastic community.

Unlike Sister Margaret who had been much more open minded about her entrance to the convent, this nun sister was a bit more skeptical in the Vanderwood daughter’s admission, and only because she had heard of the horrors and tales that had spread so far out from the Capitol to the countryside. Stories of the young girl’s penchant for stripping the pants right off young boys, and chasing after them – if that wasn’t a sign of early loose behaviour, she didn’t know what was! And don’t even get her started about how her father had found her in a tavern bar!

Oh lord have mercy! The woman truly did pray but at last, her opposition to Rebecca’s admission was easily overruled by Sister Margaret who had the final say, and there was simply nothing the woman could do about it.

Not that young blonde was actually aware of it all, nonetheless Rebecca wasn’t far off in her assumptions. After all, Sister Yvonne had not even attempted to hide her open hostility for her during the past few months that she had been here.

Turning to her fellow religious Sister in training, Rebecca could only shrug back at Hilda.

“Oh, nothing much,”

She batted her eyes innocently at her.

“I was just being my good old self, Hilda.”

Hilda scoffed at the statement, waving it off with an eye roll. She could tell that it was a lie, but if the younger girl didn’t want to say anymore then she wouldn’t push her further.

“Well, at least you didn’t spend every night crying your eyes out like the last noble lass that we had.” 

The ginger haired girl remarked, nonchalantly.

“There was only so much I could take before I finally burst. Thank the Lord that Sister Margaret always intervened and calmed the woman down. Bless her sweet soul.”

Hums of agreement came from around their table, and Rebecca could understand that.

In this world, when a young lady or girl enters a convent with the intention of becoming a nun, they must leave their title and old life behind because status means absolutely nothing here. Within the confines of these walls, everybody was equal and the compound was for everyone to share. There was no such thing as privilege, and bedrooms were often shared between four sisters in training – something that most noble young ladies who had entered Rosemary Convent could not seem to handle considering that many had quit very shortly into the start of their nunnery training. Most likely to enter a different convent, one that actually gave nobles the privileges they desired.

Perhaps it was because of their past experiences with the nobles before her that her roommates had initially been somewhat wary of her presence upon her arrival, seldomly interacting with her as they counted down the days until she finally couldn’t handle the simple life anymore and quit. Except, they were sorely mistaken.

Rebecca Vanderwood had quite happily embraced the simple life. And it was not surprising considering that in her previous life as Susanne Prince, she was a self-declared minimalist that only kept and bought what she needed – it was a useful philosophy when living on a student budget.

So, when three months passed and it finally settled into their minds that the young girl was not going to leave any time soon, and could potentially be in this for the long-haul, they actually started to warm up to her. Before long, she had become a fixture within their little friendship group and it truly did make her monastic life a little livelier and easier to understand.

From what they had told her, she was only just doing a trial right now, something called a postulancy. A sort of period of testing to see if you were suited for the monastic life, a process that can last from six months to two years. Though, considering her age, it was highly probable that she will be kept in the testing stage for a much longer period of time than them. At least until Sister Margaret deemed her fit (old) enough to continue, and start her novitiate.

Something that both Hilda and Tilly had yet to achieve, despite her roommates both being here for a year and a half now. For Hilda, the older nuns were uncertain if the ginger would be suited for this life, especially considering the sixteen-year old’s short tempered temperament at times. And for Tilly, it had been due to the fact that the bespectacled girl herself was not sure if she actually wanted to pursue this path in life, and had held back on continuing forth before she truly had to commit further. 

Among the four of them, it was only Simone who had successfully passed her trial, and took her temporary vows which came as no surprise to Rebecca considering that the older blonde-haired girl’s presence practically radiated of peace and calmness. Though, it might have also been due to the black velvet habit draped around her neck, and the fact that she was the oldest and most mature of the group at seventeen years old.

She was the religious sister that Rebecca had found herself closest to since she began, the older girl having been the friendliest one from the start. From what she could tell, Simone was truly one of the most resolute and likely individuals to quickly succeed in becoming a fully-fledged nun sister but that was something that could only be left up to Sister Margaret’s discretion.

“Speaking of Sister Margaret, I don’t see her around,”

Tilly glimpsed around the dining hall, but did not see a single sign of the nun.

“Sister Margaret?”

Simone perked up; a thoughtful expression dawned upon her face.

“I do believe she has a visitor, a young noble lady from the Silverstone estate from the looks of the family crest on her carriage.”

Rebecca’s hand paused mid-air, a contemplative look coming across her face.

‘Silverstone?’

Now, why did that sound so familiar to her?

“Oh yeah. Their family estate is near your hometown right, Simone?”

Hilda pointed out; the end of her fork directed towards the older girl.

“Is it a nice place?”

Rebecca asked, curiously. She was still relatively new to the area, and it wasn’t like she actually had much of an opportunity to venture outside by herself to explore, which was probably done intentionally to prevent a potential second rebellion from happening.

The older blonde paused for a moment before replying.

“It’s alright,”

Simone answered, although it seemed like even the blonde was trying to convince herself of that. 

Rolling her eyes once more, Hilda snorted in disbelief as she spoke.

“Sure, if you exclude the massive infamous Red Lady brothel in town square.”

“True.”

Simone didn’t hesitate to deny that.

“Is it that bad?”

Tilly inquired; the dark-haired girl never having visited the town before herself, but she had certainly heard of it. 

“Bad? Oh, it’s surely something alright…”

The ginger started, her voice starting to pick up in volume like it always did whenever she got riled up like this. Hilda gestured for them to come a little closer. 

“You can bleach your eyes and cleanse your body with as much holy water as you want, but even then, you can’t really free yourselves of all the lustful sins that just seem to leak out of that place.”

“That’s a bit of an over exaggeration, Hilda.”  

Simone told her but Hilda was not convinced.

“Over exaggeration my ass- assets ,”

She bit her bottom lip, shutting her mouth promptly at the presence of an all-familiar darkly dressed figure that stopped by their table.

“Good evening, Sister Yvonne.”

Hilda managed to squeak out, hurriedly in an attempt to cover up her previous sentence.

“Good evening girls,”

The nun greeted them; her hands folded behind her back.

“Good evening, Sister Yvonne.”

The remaining three sisters in training managed to chorus back at her, harmoniously.

“That’s seems to be quite a lively meal that you’re having today,”

Sister Yvonne sent the ginger haired girl a thinly veiled look of disapproval; her ears having very much picked up on the quick change of the common girl’s choice of wording.

“Now, let’s try to keep our voices down, shall we?”

She warned them, admonishingly.

“Of course, Sister.”

They replied back.

She glanced at Hilda, who avoided meeting her stern eyes directly.

“Sister Hilda?”

“Yes, Sister Yvonne.”

“Good.”

Nodding to herself in satisfaction that her message was understood, Sister Yvonne marched off in her stead. After all, the woman had other matters to attend to as she moved towards the parlours.

The moment she was out of earshot, Hilda could not help but mimic her words mockingly.

“’ Good .’”

An action that earned a few amused smiles and soft chuckles from around the table. 

It was only later in the night when it finally hit her.

‘Silverstone…’

She could never forget the day when the carriage came for her. It had been like a dream, an absolute fairy-tale…

Descending from the steps of the noble vehicle, an aged but handsome man dressed in the finest clothes she had ever seen, exited the carriage. It was at that moment that she knew that her life was about to change forever.

That man had been Baron Silverstone, her long-lost birth father who had come to adopt her at last.

“From today onwards, your name will be Lady Lisa Silverstone .”

With her blue eyes flying open wide, Rebecca immediately sat up in her bed feeling more alert now than ever. Clasping her head in her palms, the young girl chastised herself, how could she forget?

‘Silverstone – as in the very same Silverstone family that the heroine of the book would eventually get adopted into!’

She wanted to slap herself right now for actually forgetting something so important.

Turning in her bed, she glanced over to where Simone slept peacefully on the next bed beside her. She knew that it wasn’t exactly the ideal time at the moment, but she wanted answers and now might be the best time to actually approach her privately about it.

Getting down from her own bed, Rebecca quickly tip-toed over to the older blonde’s bed, clambering onto it before she lightly shook the girl at her shoulder, whispering softly as she did.

“Simone, are you awake?”

There was a groan.

Rebecca shook her once more before she could see the greys of the older girl’s orbs slowly flicker over to her, as she registered the younger girl’s form.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now, Rebecca,”

Simone managed to mutter, rolling to her side as she propped herself up on an elbow, staring back at the child in amusement. 

“Now, what’s so urgent that you felt the need to climb into my bed at this hour of the night, hm? A penny for your thoughts?”

Fiddling with the bottom strands of her hair, Rebecca glanced down uncertainty as she was not entirely sure on how to go about this.

It’s not like she could suddenly go up to the girl and tell her that she remembered her past life, or that this world (and everything within it) was actually a novel world – no, it would be too outrageous of a claim to them. She knew people already thought she was crazy, but she didn’t want people to think that she was that sort of crazy. As much as she felt that she could trust Simone and confide in her innermost feelings with her at times, there were just some things that should never be shared with others.

So, she decided to bend the truth. But just by a little bit…

“Well… there was a girl that I met once...”

‘In a story I read.’

“She was from your hometown I believe, or at least stayed within that area.”

Rebecca told her, as she noticed a spark of interest light up in the older girl’s eyes.

“Oh? What’s her name? I should know her since it was a pretty small community, and everyone pretty much knew each.”

Simone asked, smiling as she did.

“Her name was Lisa.”

“The hooker’s kid?”

Rebecca blinked, an expression of astonishment on her face. The smaller girl was unexpectedly taken back for a moment, did she hear that right? Did that word just come out of Simone’s mouth? The very same Simone that was probably the sweetest person she’s ever met so far in this world.

“Hooker?”

The blonde girl repeated, confusedly.

Simone let out a sigh as she waved the word off, probably regretful that she had let it slip out to the ears of an innocent child. Nevertheless, a rare expression of disdain crossed her face as she spoke.

“Madame Andrews – the number one lady at the Red Lady Brothel,”

The older girl explained, bluntly.

“And the most hated woman around.”

She did not even try to hide her displeasure anymore, clicking her tongue as she did.

“The woman is notorious for the number of families and relationships she’s ruined, much like my own family... that home wrecking wh - “

Simone caught herself before she finished her sentence, coughing into her palm as she lightly reminded herself that there was a child present. Calming herself down, she continued to speak in a more composed manner.

“Anyway, her chosen occupation isn’t exactly a secret, and her daughter’s existence is virtually an open secret. We all know that she exists; the woman just pretends that we don’t and refuses to acknowledge her in the slightest.”

‘Poor girl’s practically been swept under the rug,’

“Personally, I think she made a smart choice of giving the girl to her birth father to raise.”

‘Did she already get adopted?’

Rebecca frowned to herself, she didn’t recall that event happening so early on in the heroine’s life. 

“Baron Silverstone?”

The young girl chirped in.

“What? No!”

It was Simone’s turn to look taken back now; she looked horrified at the prospect of it all as she quickly shut that idea down.

“Farmer Miller – the vegetable farmer down south.”

She told Rebecca, simply.

“Baron Silverstone wouldn’t even dare touch that woman with a ten-foot pole, or even step foot near that sinful establishment. That’s just not like him to do so.”

Rebecca raised a brow at the statement.

“Anyway, rumour has it that she dumped the baby on him since she couldn’t financially raise the child herself, and it wouldn’t exactly look good on her profile in her line of work… Especially when she’s been opening trying to hook in a big one.”

Grey eyes met blue ones as she watched the young girl’s orbs cloud with confusion.

“A big one?”

“A big, fat fish – preferably one filled with pockets full of cold, hard cash.”

She held up a hand in front of Rebecca to see and rubbed two fingers together to further emphasize her point.

“Though, the second Baron Silverstone just might actually fit the bill, considering his less than favourable past.”

“The second?”

She did not recall details of such a person ever being mentioned in the novel. As far as she could remember, there was only one Baron Silverstone. 

Simone only nodded in response, affirming what she had previously stated.

“The second brother who’s the head of the branch family. The man was pretty wild back in the day, a frequent sinner at the Red Lady.”

“Okay…”

Rebecca said, taking a moment to let all this information digest in her mind.

In the actual novel itself, there was never really much written about Lisa’s background aside from the stereotypical light novel trope that she was fortunately adopted into a noble family one day, after her father had ‘suddenly’ found out that she existed. And that it was her humble beginnings that characterised her personality and behaviour, which made her at odds with the other noble girls. Something that the villainess had loved to pick on whenever she could.

Though from all of the things that Simone had just informed her about, regarding Lisa’s origins which conflicted against the novel’s literature, there may have been a possibility that the older girl could have been talking about a different Lisa. Perhaps the name was more common amongst people than she thought.  

Nevertheless… she couldn’t shake off this feeling in her gut that was telling her otherwise, that this was the heroine of the story. Or at least, a version of Lisa Silverstone that was never really touched upon in the book. The possibility of it all intrigued Rebecca immensely.

‘But there’s only one way to find out,’

“Is down south pretty far?”

Simone shook her head at the question.

“Not particularly, but I was supposed to travel there later in the week to collect a few food supplies for the upcoming children’s event.”

The older religious sister noticed the look in Rebecca’s eyes, she recognised them as the corner of her lips curled up.

“Why? Would you like to tag along, Rebecca?”

The young girl grabbed Simone’s free hand and clasped it in between her small palms as she pleaded.

“May I? Please, Simone.”

Smiling tiredly, the older blonde chuckled to herself as she reached out to pat the smaller girl on the head.

‘How cute.’

“I don’t see why not; I shall talk to Sister Margaret about it.”

‘But first things first.’

“Now shoo! Go back to sleep, Sister Rebecca. You have a very busy day tomorrow, and I think Sister Margaret would be more likely to agree if you actually got some rest now, and not during your prayer or contemplation time!”

She was initially afraid that Simone would forget about her promise to talk to Sister Margaret about letting her follow her down south during one of her trips on the behalf of Rosemary Convent, but luckily, the older girl hadn’t. Now, after much discussion, and a plentiful amount of contestation (courtesy of one horrified Sister Yvonne), Simone had somehow managed to get Sister Margaret’s permission for a day. And only one day.

Not that Rebecca minded too much, a day was all that she needed to confirm her bubbling curiosities.

Aside from the fears that she would end up causing another unwarranted revolution against the ruling territory lords of this area, there was one other main reason behind why the young girl was forbidden from leaving monastic grounds, and it was simply due to the fact that she was too young. At nine (almost ten) years old, little Rebecca Vanderwood was the youngest of all the current religious sisters in training.

Due to her age, she was often assigned duties within the confines of the Church, most that involved helping other senior religious sisters in their roles, which was to mainly hold group classes and games for the local children in the area. Unlike both Hilda and Tilly, she did not have the freedom to venture out like they did whenever they went to carry out their charitable deeds in nearby neighbouring areas – often helping within the healthcare or education sector, as a part of their training.

And she was certainly not as trusted as Simone was, being able to leave the Church to carry out duties on the behalf of either Sister Margaret or Yvonne, like she was today. She was only so grateful that nun sisters favoured Simone so much to grant her this rare request.

“Here we are, down south.”

The wheels of their horse-drawn wooden cart came to a slow still as Simone tightened her grasp on the leather reins within her palms. She eased their horse to a stop as they pulled up in front of a farm. Smiling at the smaller girl sitting beside her, she pointed over to where an older man approached, waving at the pair.

“And that’s Farmer Miller.”

She told Rebecca, getting down from her seat as she tied the reins to a nearby post before coming to the other side to help the blonde girl down from her seat. 

“Good morning, Sisters!”

A dark redheaded man greeted them, friendly as he came to open the front gates for them. From the towel wrapped around his neck, to the dirt-stained gloves he wore, Rebecca could already see that the man had already been tending to his fields for quite some time now despite the time still being relatively early in the morning.

“Good morning, Sir.”

They chorused back to him, politely.

His green eyes dropped to the smaller Sister, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he did.

“A new addition, Sister Simone?”

The man inquired, amusedly.

It was a well-known fact that the Sisters often travelled in pairs, and he was already relatively familiar with Sister Simone, having known her since she was a child  –  but he supposed he was still a little shocked. After all, he was much more used to seeing Sister Simone accompanied by an older religious sister from the Convent. So, to see a child so young by her side dressed in a matching monastic uniform, it was a bit… surprising to say the least.

‘Did they accept candidates this young?’

But Simone was unfazed by the question as she nodded in response, placing a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder as she introduced the girl to him.

“Yes. Farmer Miller, this is Sister Rebecca – the youngest member of our Convent (for now).”

Rebecca made a small curtsy towards him as the older man bobbed his head back in turn, removing a dirt-stained glove as he stuck his clean hand out for her to take. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sister Rebecca.”

As Rebecca shook his hand, the man could not help but look over at her once more.

“She looks to be around the same age as my Lisa.”

Farmer Miller remarked with a laugh.

Simone simply looked back at him with a calm, yet unreadable smile.

“Ah yes, your daughter.”

“She should be out tending the potatoes fields over there right now.”

The redheaded man pointed out towards a vast field behind them.

Rebecca followed the direction of his finger with anticipation, something that did not miss Simone’s sharp grey eyes.

“Shall we go inside and discuss the details of the food supply order then, Sisters?”

Farmer Miller asked, starting to walk towards the main storage area where all the fresh produce was kept.

“We may, but perhaps Sister Rebecca could stay outside and explore around for a bit. Due to her age, she doesn’t really get the chance to leave the Convent very much.”

Simone told him, meeting his gaze as the man paused in his steps. His dark brown orbs glanced back and forth between the pair. 

“Well, I don’t mind.”

Shrugging to himself, Farmer Miller gestured on hand out towards the field for the young girl.

“Go ahead, Sister Rebecca. Feel free to wander to your heart’s content.”

Rebecca turned to Simone who beamed back at her, practically urging her to move towards the fields Farmer Miller had pointed to before.

“Go, I’ll handle this.”

Simone assured her, confidently. 

Well, you didn’t have to tell her twice.

After bowing gratefully at the older man, Rebecca did not hesitate to run off, gathering the bottom of her black skirt in her palms as she headed off in the direction of the fields beyond.

‘Thank you, Simone!’ 

With her tiny feet pattering across the soiled ground, she could hear the sounds of a hoe scraping into the ground off, alerting her to the direction she should take. As the sounds got louder, she could vaguely make out the silhouette of a figure off in the distance. It was at that moment; Rebecca could not deny the identity of the female lead any longer.

‘There she is!’

Dark red locks cut and styled into a shoulder length bob, a shade that she could easily recognise from the cover of the light novel art.

‘Finally, the heroine is – 

“Hah!”

The girl let out a sudden war cry as she brought her small arms down, ploughing at the earth beneath her feet rather violently.

“A potato farmer?!”

Rebecca spluttered suddenly in shock; her feet rooted to the ground as she stopped a few meters away from her. Her blue eyes opened wide as she stared in astonishment at the redheaded girl in front of her.

Now, when Farmer Miller had said that she was ‘tending to the fields’, the blonde girl had to admit she had envisioned a more… ladylike and elegant scene – one that featured small animals and a bit of melodic music as she collected crops. Something comparable to a Disney Princess scene…

But instead of what she had in mind, Rebecca found that the young girl was proudly covered from head to toe in a sort of jumpsuit. One that was similar to the outfit that Farmer Miller had been wearing. 

Lisa happily gripped her hoe, an expression of satisfaction on her face as she looked at the freshly ploughed rows of soil she had created.

Inside Rebecca’s head, she could just hear the sounds of glass shattering as she wordlessly stared on, unsure of what to say anymore.

“Huh, who are you?”

Blinking, the young religious sister was pulled back to reality.

With a frown on her face, Lisa stared at her unknown visitor who was simply just standing there. She didn’t recognise the girl, and didn’t think she lived in the area. Not to mention the fact that she had just been standing there, watching her… She didn’t like it. 

It reminded her of all the looks she would get whenever she was in town with her father, how the adults would stare at her while whispering about how her mother had abandoned her. 

Just the thought of it made her grip tighten.

“What are you looking at, huh?”

Lisa snapped at her defensively. 

A move that stunned Rebecca. She did not expect the heroine to be so hostile like this.

“Nothing…”

Rebecca replied hurriedly, bowing politely at her in an apologetic manner. She had not realised how rude she had been staring at her like that.

“Nothing at all.”

Lisa’s brown orbs squinted at her, unconvinced by her statement but the sudden sound of a buzz caught her ear.

“Fly!”

Reacting quickly, she did not hesitate to impose imminent death upon it…

Various years down the line, in a grand ballroom; the young blonde will come to remember this very scene when an idiotic buffoon declares that his fiancée could never even hurt a fly .

The religious sisters in training group's dynamic in a nutshell:

Author's current state of life:

All meme credits to their rightful owners.

Chapter Text

"Ah, you're back."

Simone noted as the young girl walked towards her, her eyes a tell-tale sign of her current innermost emotions, and they just screamed of turmoil. Having already loaded most of the vegetables that they needed to the back of the wooden cart; the older girl simply held her hand out for the smaller girl to take.

Grabbing it, Rebecca clambered up into the seat beside her silently, a detail that did not go unmissed.

"You seem disappointed, although I don't really know what you were expecting to see."

Pulling at the reins of the horse, the pair began their journey back to Rosemary Convent.

Yet, there was still no response.

"Rebecca?"

Turning to briefly glance down at the defeated girl beside her, Simone frowned in concern now.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah..."

Rebecca replied, she was just taking a moment to... process all of the things that she had seen today. It was rather... ground-breaking to say the least.

"I just feel as though I had my whole world shattered to pieces before my very eyes."

The young girl admitted, her blue orbs staring blankly towards the empty road ahead of them as she spoke.

"It's like all my expectations and perceptions have just been thrown right out of the window."

"Just from seeing the Andrews girl?"

Simone questioned, her eyebrows crinkling down in confusion.

"That's a bit much. Did she make that much of an impression on you when you met last time?"

Rebecca hummed to herself before responding, recalling how she felt during her past readings of the book in her previous life, and how she did actually enjoy the heroine's character within the storyline.

"Something like that..."

The braided haired girl scoffed, shaking her head as she did.

"Impressions are fleeting, people change over time. It's natural, Rebecca – it's all part of the process of growing up."

'But technically I am already grown up...'

If she added up the age of Susanne Prince when she died, and the number of years that she has been living in Rebecca Vanderwood's body up till now, she would already be in her mid-twenties. A little bit over the age of a legal adult. Though, the blonde had to admit – that was a pretty perceptive way to look at life.

Simone never truly failed to amaze her with how mature she could be at times, and how open she was when it came to certain topics that would normally be frowned upon if ever brought up in Church.

'Maybe, just maybe...'

"Hey, Simone,"

Rebecca began hesitantly, her small palms gripping tightly on to the bottom of her seat.

"Have you ever wondered if there was something more beyond our mere existence?"

Her set of childlike eyes looked towards the front, not certain if she should look her in the eye for this.

"Like, this world is our world, and we do live and breathe in it... but what if – hypothetically, of course – this world was inside of a novel or story in another world?" 

Silence.

Simone did not speak; perhaps it really was a bit of a far-stretched idea to suddenly bring up right now...And for a moment, Rebecca felt herself start to panic.

Her mind quickly went into overdrive as she tried to think of a way to backtrack her previous statement... but much to her surprise, Simone spoke up.

"Then I'd imagine that perhaps minor details would be missed. After all, there's only so much a person can write within a story."

The younger girl turned to her, glancing over the contemplative look that had crossed Simone's face.

"Why? Did little Miss Andrews seem different in this so-called 'novel' of yours?"

Smiling, Rebecca felt an immense sense of relief.

"Well, the novel always did say that she was 'a little rough around the edges' prior to her mother's remarriage into nobility... but honestly, they should have just outright said that she was a potato farmer to begin with (it would have saved me the disappointment)."

"They never specified it? Perhaps it was left that way to allow for the readers' imaginations to interpret that however they would like."

The older girl pointed out, something that made the younger blonde frown in discontent.

"It's too different though."

There were two drastically different images in her head right now, and they simply just did not line up.

"How old is the girl when the story starts?"

"Nineteen."

"Well, if you say that the 'novel' doesn't start until she's nineteen years old, then I believe she still has a lot of time to change before then."

Simone told her, plainly.

"Change?"

"Or grow up."

Simone added in clarification, though she could still see the look of confusion in Rebecca's eyes.

"Think of it this way – the God of this so-called fictional novel world is the writer, who has already set the tone for this world; establishing their basic characteristics, and innate behaviours. However, that's their limit as the creator. They've set the events, but how each individual in this world reacts to those events can vary quite differently from what you may expect them to, because at the end of day, they are technically their own person with their own thoughts and opinions. Opinions that can be shaped after experiencing particular events in their life."

Simone proposed, before she elaborated her point further.

"So, going based on what you've told me... Perhaps the reason why Miss Andrews is not like what you expected to see right now, is because she has yet to undergo the events in her life that would lead to her becoming... well, what you anticipated her to be."

'That's surprisingly... insightful.'

"Does that make sense, Rebecca?"

"I guess..."

Though that could explain the reason why the Crown Prince too had turned out so different from what she had initially expected him to be when she first met him at his tea party.

"You're all so young with your life still ahead."

Simone mentioned, carelessly with a smile.

"True, they are still kids after all."

Rebecca agreed, her mind still focused on the topic of both the male and female leads.

'I suppose they still do have a lot of time to change before the novel's storyline begins.'

"You're a kid too, Rebecca."

The older girl pointed out, but Rebecca brushed that statement aside, choosing to comment instead on Simone's openness.

"You know, if Sister Yvonne or Margaret ever hear you say that, you can kiss your nunnery life goodbye."

But she didn't seem too bothered, scoffing it off.

"Hypothetically speaking of course."

Simone stated, smiling as she did.

"...You don't think I'm crazy, do you? You know, for suggesting... all that."

Rebecca asked, nervously.

Shaking her head, Simone could not help but chuckle at the young girl's worries.

"Frankly, you might just be the sanest, craziest person I know."

Her words brought a smile to her face.

Following their return to Rosemary Convent, it was safe to say that Sister Margaret and Yvonne were immensely (one more than the other) relieved to see that they had both returned in one piece, with no wake of destruction following in their path. She had hoped that this little outing would have reaffirmed the sister nuns' faith and trust in her to venture out once more, but from the number of in-church cleaning assignments that the young girl was handed the next day, it was plainly evident that it would be a while before Rebecca could go out again.

Humming to herself with a bucket and rag in hand, Rebecca found herself entering the Church's confessional, her designated cleaning task for the day, or every Friday now it seems.

She had walked past the wooden booth several times in the past, but she never really had the chance to take a closer look inside, especially from the other side where either Sister Margaret or Yvonne would sit and listen. According to Simone, the confessional had been bestowed to their Church by the Holy Temple, and was enchanted with a few magical runes and spells. A feature that piqued her curiosity even more.

'So, this is what one of these looks like from this side,'

Stepping through the narrow door frame, Rebecca had to admit that the space did not look all that different from what she initially expected it to be. Though she had to confess, it was interesting how things worked differently in this world, at least when it came to certain aspects regarding the Church and its policies.

In her previous life, confessionals would normally only be undertaken by an ordained priest or bishop but in this world, things worked a little differently here. If a nun has gotten permission or approval from the Holy Temple, then they are therefore eligible to listen to confessions and grant absolutions. Something that would seemingly never be possible in her past life.

Now it wasn't to say that it was only just the sister nuns that undertook the task of listening to confessionals within this Church, as Father Solomon, the county's main Priest did visit from time to time, and he too would complete some confessionals. But considering that the man was one of the one few (or only, in her opinion) priests for miles, with many ordained priests preferring instead to remain in the Capital or near it, it was needless to say that the man had a lot on his plate at times. Not to mention the various priest house calls he had to tend to now and then, he never really stayed in one place for too long.

Creak

Her ears perked up to the sound of somebody entering through the other side of the booth as the outlined silhouette of a kneeling person appeared before her.

'Huh?'

She could have sworn that there should have been a sign out front informing visitors that there was no Sister present at the moment.

'Wait...'

The sign in front of the confessional was activated by magic, and it only ever reacted in the presence of a member of the Church who was in the booth – which was exactly what and where she was right now!

"Sister, oh thank goodness you're here."

A muffled, but grateful voice from the other side cried.

"Please, I – I just don't know what to do anymore."

She wasn't supposed to be here, but she also couldn't just leave mid-confession! That would just come to reflect badly on the Church and the sisters who actually do listen to these confessions.

"Um –"

Blue eyes widened at the unfamiliar tone.

'Oh, my voice.'

It must have been an enchantment to distort the sisters' true voices, and anonymise them to the public. Their confessors would never know who it had been that they were speaking to, which was probably put in place as a safety measure for the nuns.

Before the blonde-haired girl could intervene, and think of an excuse to get her out of there, the stranger confessed.

"My husband! He's been cheating on me again,"

'Hold up,'

Something within the young girl snapped as all the previous panic she held died away. Sitting herself down in the seat, Rebecca turned her complete and full attention towards the person before her as she spoke.

"Please, do tell me more?"

And so, the confessor did. 

"And – and, I just can't take it anymore."

From behind the grilled screen, Rebecca nodded her head in silent understanding, her arms folded across her chest. She sympathised with the woman in front of her, especially after listening to everything that she had just told her.

She recognised the signs, and could pinpoint numerous instances of gaslighting and emotional manipulation within the woman's testimony. After all, she had seen it happen a few times to some of her close friends in her past life, and it almost never ended well for them...

Just the thought of it still made her blood boil.

'This isn't right.'

There was a drawl of breath as the sobbing woman finally managed to compose herself.

"What should I do?"

"Divorce him."

"Huh?"

Lifting her head, the woman was taken aback by the reply, it was a first for her. And she would know, because this wasn't the first time that she's come to confess.

"After you leave, march right down to the local registry office and file for a divorce."

Her eyes widened in surprise by the rapid list of instructions given to her.

"But – but – "

She tried to protest, but was promptly cut off.

"When you both got married, you both took an oath of loyalty to each other in front of the chapel with God as your witness. By cheating on you (numerous times), that dog has broken his sworn oath and truly deserves to rot in hell."

"But I've cheated on him too!"

There was a brief silence.

"... Then may the Lord have mercy on both your souls."

With nothing more for her to say, Rebecca stood up as she gathered her cleaning items to depart.

'Maybe I should just come back later to clean, with a proper paper sign.'

As if sensing that the religious sister was about to leave, the woman cried out in desperation.

"Wait – wait! Sister, I don't want to rot in Hell! It was before we had gotten married, back when we were still dating."

The young girl's hand paused, hovering above the door knob; her blue eyes turned back briefly to stare at the figure through the divider.

"Before I took my vows!"

The woman hastily added.

Rebecca still frowned though.

"Adultery is still a sin against the Church,"

It was as plain and simple as that.

The door knob clicked as she turned it, ready to leave – a noise that echoed to the other side of the wall.

There was a sharp intake of air.

"Please! There has to be a way, how can I repent for my sins?"

"Divorce the man, devote the rest of your life to your children (if you have any) and the Church. Cleanse your impure soul with holy water every day and swear to live a good honest life for the rest of your life until you die."

Rebecca deadpanned without missing a beat.

"Yes, Sister. I will."

The woman reaffirmed, her kneeling form bowing down in gratitude.

"I will. I shall go right away, just as you've said."

"Time is of the essence."

Rebecca told her, curtly.

Nodding, the woman did not wait any longer, immediately whispering her thanks before she bolted through the door on her side of the booth.

Off in the distance, Rebecca could hear her hurried footsteps pattering away. The blonde girl waited until she could no longer hear any sounds, opening the door to take a quick peak to make sure that the coast was clear – it was.

'Good.'

She let out a grateful sigh of relief that it was all over, hopefully the woman hadn't noticed too much of a difference in her confession if she had come regularly.

Rolling up the sleeves of her uniform, Rebecca got ready to finally complete her assigned cleaning duty, but first, she needed to get a sign, or at least something that indicated the booth was out of commission for the time being...

Or did she?

'You know, in retrospect, that didn't feel so bad after all.'

She had to say, she had handled that pretty well despite the circumstances. And she felt good about it, helping people solve their problems, which was probably not what you were meant to do in a confessional but still... She aided that woman for what she believed was the best, and she might be able to do so for more people to come.

And so, it began – a hidden revolution in the making. 

"I have committed a grave injustice, Sister,"

The proclamation came from the remorseful man before her, his voice quivering with his every word.

"I accidentally took the life – "

Rebecca held her breath in suspenseful anticipation.

"– of a donkey."

'Oh...'

She let out a small sigh of relief.

Well, that was rather anticlimactic... Still though, she supposed that it was better than an actual human being.

"It was an accident, I swear, Sister."

The man before her whispered, his body trembling in regret.

"It suddenly came out of nowhere, I could not stop my cart in time before we collided."

He explained to her, clasping his head between his worn hands.

"Please, Sister, I didn't mean to take a life like this. I didn't mean to forsake my path to Heaven."

It was clear to her that he had agonised over this incident for days now, the guilt eating him alive until he couldn't take it anymore. He truly did seem regretful of what he had done, one of many that she had seen over the past couple of weeks.

"You are forgiven."

Rebecca told him, softly.

He lifted his head, and despite the fact that she could not clearly see the expression on his face, she could at least tell that she put him somewhat at ease now. Sniffling to himself, he wiped away at what she could only assume were the tears in his eyes.

"Thank you,"

The man said, gratefully as he got up from his seat with his soul slightly more at ease now, knowing that he can finally come clean about it all.

"Thank you so much, Sister."

Bowing towards her, he placed a hat on his head and exited the booth.

From the other side, Rebecca took a pencil to her notebook as she struck out the man's account from her list of confessions. In a way, listening to all these confessions had become a form of collecting information for the young girl. It gave her an idea of the life outside the
Convent, and things that the locals were currently experiencing.

Now this wasn't always the case, and she really did have good intentions when she first decided to do this, such as giving out legal advice to scorned men and women who were rightfully wronged in her opinion, and forgiving others when it came to it. But if she had to say, it all began a few weeks ago, when a certain confessor came to the booth.

As Rebecca had learnt quickly, although the magic within the confessional warped her voice, it did not have the same effect on the voice of her visitors, therefore she could easily tell if they had been here before.

From the way the man immediately greeted her familiarly, it was evident to her that he had been here before, and was a frequent confessor, but just not to her. As he spoke, she could do nothing but listen, and perhaps it was for the best as he delved into his agony and innermost emotions.

And she didn't blame him, he held a heavy burden on his shoulders as the sole heir of a noble family – a position that was never his to begin with, but was forced upon him. His identity and the life that came along with it were not his own, they were his elder brother's. He was only wearing the mask that came with his brother's name as the second son, an unnamed child that was put in place to cover up for an unfortunate tragedy.

Like the many who she has seen come here, these confessions served as an opportunity for them to find solace. But it appears that this was still something he could not get over so soon, and probably wouldn't for a while longer. It was a guilt that he must have carried around for a majority of his life, and will continue to haunt him for the rest of it until the truth finally comes out.

By the end of his confession, she forgave him, telling him the three words that he had wanted to hear and he left. Yet, not before leaving an impression on the young girl.

She wanted to help him if she could but first, she would have to find him. Initially, she had only jotted down the details of what she recalled into her notebook as a reminder to herself not to forget the little things, but eventually... She started writing down every confession that followed. And even the most scandalous ones too, after all... they just seemed to leave a much deeper impact on her impressionable mind.

Who knows, perhaps in the future she could come to meet these people again and see how they were doing in their life. She would hope that they were doing better, and happier.

But for now at least, she could only pray that things went smoothly for them and the people she would come to help.

Though it would only be a few weeks later when her actions finally came to light.

“How could you, Sister! How could you tell my wife to leave me?”

Both nun sisters turned, Sister Yvonne looking more displeased than Sister Margaret at the rather rude call out. The women had just exited the parlour, seeing out their guests who had come to speak to them.

“Ex- excuse me?”

Sister Margaret was stunned by the accusation, the woman’s features contorting into a state of confusion as she stared at the approaching man.

“My wife served me divorce papers this morning! She told me it was an act for God that she must leave me for my cheating ways!”

“Well…”

Sister Yvonne began, before trailing off to her thoughts.

‘Could you blame her?’

‘Good on her for having the courage to leave him.’

Sister Margaret silently nodded to herself, proud that the man’s wife stood up for herself. After all, adultery was a big no in her books.

“She said that was what was told to her during her confession!”

The man exclaimed, outraged.

Now that caught both of their attentions immediately, Sister Margaret’s eyes widening in shock.

“Confession?”

The woman spluttered out.

“Are you sure it was at our Church?”

Sister Yvonne questioned, her eyes narrowing at the man intimidatingly. She would not accept lies right now; it was a serious allegation he was throwing at them.

The man nodded.

“Last Friday! She came to visit last Friday.”

He told them, honestly.

Sister Margaret frowned as she spoke.

“But that’s impossible, the confessional is closed on Friday for Sister Rebecca to clean…”

Both women looked at each other as the final puzzle clicked in their minds.

“Sister Rebecca!”

For the first time in their monastic lives, the two nuns ran; bolting down the hallways to the confessional booth where they knew their youngest sister in training would be right now, for it was indeed a Friday.

“I always knew that he was lying to me, sneaking out at night! But I just didn’t want to open my eyes.”

The woman in front of Rebecca confessed, dabbing a tearful eye with a handkerchief in her hand.

“Oh dear, Sister,”

She said, looking back through the grills (where she could only make out an outline) hopefully.

“Please tell me what I should do?”

“You –“

The voice that started to speak was promptly cut off.

The confessor blinked, unsure of what had just happened.

“Sister? Hello?”

The woman asked, confusedly, standing up now as she attempted to peek through the divider.

“Sister?”

She called out once more.

There was a moment of silence.

“You are forgiven.”

The statement was quickly followed by the sound of a door shutting from the other side, leaving the woman all alone within the booth, completely unaware of what had just transpired.

“… what?”

Needless to say, word of Rebecca’s antic quickly got around to the residents of Rosemary Convent.

“Wow, I always knew you were going to be an entertaining kid, but this really takes the cake.”

Hilda remarked as she wiped away the tears at her eyes from laughing too hard, a wide grin on her face.

“The rumours didn’t do you enough justice.”

Tilly told her, patting the younger blonde’s head.

An action that evoked a sigh from Rebecca as she shook her head in displeasure.

“You’re all much too pleased about this.”

“Very,”

Simone answered, bluntly with a chuckle.

Convent life was naturally quite peaceful and calm, with days often passing by slowly and quietly. But recently, that wasn’t the case anymore with the young sister in front of them having managed to disrupt that relatively occurring pattern, by producing a few… eye opening sights to say the least.

It brought a smile to her face whenever she thought about it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of Sister Yvonne practically pulling you out of the confessional booth while Sister Margaret had to simultaneously jump into your spot.”

Simone confessed, a hand on her cheek as she shook her head.

“Or Father Solomon’s face when he came back and heard your confessions.”

The ginger headed girl commented, throwing in her own two cents while they were at it.

Rebecca sighed, remembering the old man’s expression.

After discovering what she had done, Sister Margaret had called upon Father Solomon to return immediately to the Church. From the way he had burst through the doors with a sense of urgency, he must have been expecting the worst… No doubt he was struck with absolute confusion when the nun sisters had asked him to undertake a confession, more specifically – her confession, where she explicitly explained everything that she had done down to the finest detail.

“He looked as white as a sheet by the time you were done.”

Tilly noted, remembering the older man’s haggard state when he exited the booth. It was uncertain to her if it was more from horror, or shock, but if she had to guess, it was probably somewhere in between the two.

“And yet, I’m still here.”

The blonde-haired girl stated in bewilderment.

In all honesty, Rebecca genuinely expected to get kicked out of the Convent for what she had done, tossed into a carriage and sent back to her parents... but much to her surprise, it appears that she would be staying on for the time being. A decision that certainly shocked many that resided here.

“Indeed…”

Her roommates chorused together in amusement.

It truly was an amazing feat.

But nevertheless, it did not mean all was forgiven because it appears that her cleaning workload has appeared to have increased, no doubt a subtle form of punishment.

With her arms folded sternly across her chest, Sister Yvonne fiercely stared down the young blonde-haired girl standing before her. They were in a recently emptied classroom space, one of the few that were used to host classes and activities for the local children. With today’s lesson finally over and the children all gone home, it was time for the space to be cleaned.

“Take your time to reflect and perhaps repent on your recent actions lately, Sister Rebecca.”

Her aged orbs narrowed, warningly.

There was no doubt the woman would not hesitate to take action if she tried anything again, a fact that Rebecca very well understood as the young girl bobbed her head in response.

“Yes, Sister Yvonne.”

Huffing to herself, the older woman spun on her heel as she exited the classroom, but not before one last, final quick peek back at her, almost daring her to try something before she was actually gone.

Rebecca clicked her tongue as her blue eyes darted around the empty room, and the explosion of paint that came with it…

'The children must have had painting class today.’

Her orbs flickered to the splatters of green paint on the walls, and then to the Holy Maiden statue in the front of the room where she could see a relatively noticeable red splotch of red against her white marbled face.

‘And they went wild.’

She grabbed her cloth and moved to the sink, wetting the material thoroughly before wringing out the extra water.

‘That looks like it needs a little wipe.’

As the young girl approached the tall statue, the issue of how she was going to get up there in the first place was becoming glaringly obvious. Shrugging to herself, Rebecca decided to climb up onto a desk, she didn’t see any harm with it since she would eventually be wiping its surface down again later after she was done.

She brought the cloth to the paint splotch and rubbed away… but unfortunately, her actions may have just made things worse as the blob got larger and began to form a streak of red lines down the maiden’s face.

Pulling back, she immediately regretted her decision.

“Opps…”

“Sister Rebecca, have – “

The girl turned to the door where both Sister Yvonne and Margaret had suddenly entered through, her eyes widened fearfully as she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Is the Holy Maiden statue crying blood!?”

Sister Yvonne gasped; her face struck with horror at the prospect of it.

“Magic!”

Sister Margaret brought her hand to mouth before she turned to Sister Yvonne.

“She has an affinity for magic!”

All while still, Rebecca remained lost, uncertain of the series of events that was currently unfolding…

‘What?’

“Sister Margaret! Inform the Holy Temple! Inform the Archbishop that there has been a child discovered with the capability to wield magic.”

“Magic?”

Preview of the next chapter:

Chapter Text

Orion.

A once uninhabitable, cursed waste land filled with monsters and dark beings. A piece of land that had always remained warded off from the rest of the world… Or at least it was until a brave, yet ambitious young hero came along one day and defeated them all. He purified the land, freeing it of its lingering darkness.

That man was Arthur Dale, the great founder and first King of Orion. The man who claimed this newly cleansed land as his own.

And for a while, it had been a prosperous time for the newly established kingdom as the air was rich in mana and magic. Known as the Golden Era, Orion became the place for all magicians and masters of the magical arts to be, so it came as no surprise that it soon became the Holy Temple’s main headquarters. A blessing itself for the kingdom that was starting to flourish and grow in its influence abroad.

But as generations passed, the magic in the air began to fade. The mana that people could once naturally drawl out with ease began to vanish as the people’s innate affinity for magic filtered away. With only a few individuals being blessed with the ability to use magic, there was an eventual decline of wizards and magic users that appeared over the years.

A sign that magic’s age of glory has passed, and that it was time to start taking action to ensure the survival of the next generation of magic users.

From then on, the Holy Temple took it upon themselves as one of their missions and duty to God to actively seek people who were blessed by the heavens with an affinity for magic in their act of kindness, and this was done through their relations with the church. Within every church, there was at least one prayer statue crafted from the Holy Temple, one with a magic rune cast upon it to react when coming in contact with a person who has magic.

In most common cases, the statue would react in a positive light – either by glowing out a halo, letting out the sounds of harmonic music, or even by smiling. It varied from person to person, but the Holy Temple was always alerted by the church whenever a new person was found. And from there, their life would begin as a disciple of the Holy Temple, where they would learn to cultivate their magical abilities.

At least… that was the case for most people.

“This is the child?”

The old man stroked at his beard, as he stared down at the young girl presented before him, their newest disciple.

“Yes, Archbishop,”

Behind her were two men clad in white robes, members of the Holy Temple who had been dispatched to pick up the child.

“And she made the Holy Maiden statue… cry ‘blood’?”

The elder man did not conceal his raised eyebrow, even he was staggered by the statue’s rather… odd reaction. It was a first for him, and he had seen many disciples through the temple’s doors in his time.

“Yes, Archbishop…”

The man received sheepish nods in response, a confirmation from the disciple who had seen with their own eyes the result of the young girl’s magic.

He let out a hum, his eyes darting back to the young child who seemed practically unfazed by it all. 

‘A rather peculiar reaction indeed... perhaps a foreshadowing of the future?’

But looking at the tired young girl before him, he dismissed the thought as nothing more but a foolish thought. An old man’s paranoia.

‘This child is no danger to us.’

If she was, she would have already been burning on the spot from the moment she stepped through the Holy Temple’s gates. The product of a protection enchantment that was casted many years ago, to prevent dark beings and black magic users from entering Holy Temple grounds. But seeing as the young lady was perfectly fine, and hadn’t burst into an explosion of flames yet… the archbishop would have to say that there was nothing evil about her at all.

Glancing more closely at her, the man noted her clothes, the black and white uniform that she wore. A tell-tale sign of her current occupation, but from the way she stood and the air that she carried, she was no doubt of noble birth. That much he could tell.

“A sister in training,”

He murmured beneath his breath, in amusement.

“How interesting.”

It was not very often that they would receive disciples that came from amongst the Church’s very own people.

“Shall we test your magic level now, then?”

“Sure?”

The young girl perked up with a shrug, at this point she was just going with the flow of things right now.

“Do you have a wand or something?”

It was an innocent question, one that was received by a chuckle from the old man in front of her.

He shook his head as a younger disciple in a white robed uniform stepped forward, in his hand was an open wooden box containing a clear, glassed stone. It reminded her of one of those rose quartz statues that you could find at a crystal shop.

“No need, just hold out your hand and put it on this.”

The archbishop instructed, as he picked up the stone in his palm and held it out for the shorter girl to touch.

She obliged, and from the moment she placed her palm on top of the crystal, all the Holy Temple disciples that had gathered around the pair held their breath in anticipation – almost as if they were expecting something spectacular to happen…

But nothing did.

“Hmm…”

The archbishop glanced at the stone, a confused frown crossing his face. It had remained mainly unchanged except from the fact that the base of the stone glowed a faint red shade.

Rebecca raised a brow quizzically, not exactly sure of what was happening… but the other disciples sure did, breaking out in cries.

“It’s barely anything!”

One exclaimed, loudly in outrage.

“That’s probably about 0.5%.”

“Is it broken?”

“Why is it red–d though? Doesn’t red only appear when a person is dead or a vengeful spirit?”

Another pointed out with a shaking hand, fearfully stepping away from the young girl. 

‘Well…’

Rebecca internally chuckled at that point. She could figure out the reason for that, being a transmigrated soul inhabiting somebody else’s body.

The archbishop looked intrigued.

“How peculiar. It appears that you have as little to none magic affinity within your child, yet the stone still reacts…”

He returned the stone back to its original casing.

‘Now the only problem was,’

“What exactly shall we do with you then, young lady? Your magic levels are much too low for you to start your training, but at the same time, we cannot simply dismiss your potential.”

The older man murmured in thought.

It was the first time that the Holy Temple had ever encountered a situation like this, and almost everybody seemed to be at a loss of what to do.

“We could just return her…”

A disciple spoke up, bravely.

“No, we can’t. One of the sisters from Rosemary Convent added a no-return policy on her transfer papers when we went to get her…”

Another disciple, one of the ones that had gone to pick her up, replied back as he shook his head. One nun had been absolutely adamant about that.

“We do not return magical hopefuls! We nurture them and their ability.”

A man yelled, stepping forward from the crowd of disciples as he got to his bowed down at the elder man before speaking once more.

“I say that we start her training young, Archbishop.”

He told him, enthusiastically as he glanced over at Rebecca with his eyes brimming with motivation.

“I, a senior disciple, second-to-none, Phylis Spinner, will take responsibility for her training and studies.”

(He would come to take those words back very quickly in the near future.)

Despite his bold claims, it did little to convince his doubtful fellow disciples.

“Magic classes? With those levels? What good would that do, Phylis?”

A woman retorted back at him.

“She’s got to at least have more than that much magic to even start.” 

The old man could not deny that, coughing into his palm as spoke up at last.

“As much as I admire your enthusiasm as an educator, disciple Phylis, disciple Giovanni does have a point. It would simply not be possible for the young lady to start right now.” 

Phylis looked mildly disappointed by the decision.

“However, we will not give up on her yet. Instead, she will start by cultivating her knowledge starting now through self-study, and overtime once it has built up, hopefully so will her magic levels too.” 

The archbishop added a statement that appeared to gather a series of nods of approval from around the room. His wrinkled eyes smiled as he looked down at Rebecca, expectantly. He had great hopes for her in the future that she would come to do some great things. 

As Rebecca would soon come to quickly learn, they genuinely did take the meaning of the phrase ‘Knowledge is power’ quite literally. 

She was initially uncertain of what to expect when she first arrived here, but she could now say with absolute confidence that the Holy Temple was an education institution in its purest essence.

Aside from a few religious ceremonial roles here and there, the institution was solely focused on nurturing magical talents through a series of classes and seminars. It kind of reminded her of her university days… then again, she didn’t really venture far past the library and her designated room. Or at least she wasn’t allowed to.

Unlike Rosemary Convent, sections of the Holy Temple had actually been intentionally sealed off to only allow entry to people with a specific level of magic. So, there have been numerous instances over the past weeks where the young girl would sometimes find herself smacking into a sort of invisible wall, like now as such.

“Urgh,”

The blonde hair girl winced, scowling as she took a step back. Her blue orbs narrowed as they sent a glare down the empty hallway that she was apparently unworthy of entering. Like the hundredth time this week, it appears that Rebecca was lost, again.

She let out a sigh before tracing back her steps. With identical looking hallways and multiple turning points within the Holy Temple, it was truly a wonder how the holy disciples that resided here managed to reach their final destinations at all without losing their minds.

‘Maybe here.’

With a cautious expression on her face, Rebecca held out her hand to check that she could turn into the next corner without having to fear walking into another invisible wall. As she felt nothing but air, she let out a sign of relief before turning into a new hallway adorned with a very familiar object in sight.

‘A confessional?’

It looked much more elaborate and elite in construction compared to the modest wooden one back in Rosemary Convent, but there was no denying without a doubt that it was indeed a confessional.

Rebecca snapped her fingers.

‘That’s right.’

It would have been impossible for them to have warded this area off. After all, this section was interconnected with the main sanctuary which was open to the general public. Most of the visitors who came here were mainly aristocratic individuals who did not even have any magic.

As she took a closer look at the confessional, she could not help but notice that it was an occupied confessional from the visitor’s side, yet it appears that (based on the empty side) the chosen Priest for the day was running a bit late today…

‘What a real shame.’

She began to walk away from the booth, but her feet found themselves retracting right back to it. They say that old habits die hard sometimes. As Rebecca sat herself down across the concealed individual before her, she felt already at home.

But little did she know, a small seal carved by the door turned red. It's intricate system detecting the unfamiliar (an unauthorised) presence that has entered.

It was a rare sound for him to hear, one that seldom (or almost never) went off during his time as Archbishop of the Holy Temple. But for the first time in a long time, it finally did – the alarm went off.

The sound blared out throughout his office suddenly, startling the elder man and disciple before him. Their words cut off, putting their discussion on hold as they stared at the crystal ball sitting by his desk. It emitted off a dark red glow, blinking on and off as it grabbed their attention immediately. It was a security warning.

“A trespasser?”

The disciple before him quipped, a brow raised in concern. Now who would be dumb enough to trespass in the Holy Temple? (Not that people have not tried to do so before in the past, with there being quite a demand of authentic magical artefacts in the black market.) But it was essentially an open secret that the building was warded with in-built security measures.   

The white-haired man let out a small hum as he brought the crystal ball closer to him. First and foremost, he stopped the alarm as the siren died down. He then proceeded to locate the source of the breach as he raised a single brow at its rather odd location.

‘The confessional booth?’

He supposed he should have been glad that it was not actually a thief that had breached the Holy Temple walls, but still… This outcome was less than desirable in his eyes as he stared down at the young girl sitting within the booth before him with disapproval.

“Disciple Rebecca…”

He ushered for her with a hand to step out of the confessional.

She obliged with a sigh. Even she knew when to give up when she was caught.

“Archbishop…”

Rebecca greeted him, politely under his watchful gaze.

The man was silent, observing her as she bowed her head – but not out of remorse, embarrassment or shame, but out of common courtesy instead. No, Rebecca Vanderwood was not afraid of him in the slightest or even of the fact that she had gotten caught red-handed in the act. And this was something that made her rather dangerous in his eyes…

The archbishop hummed to himself, his aged eyes meeting the young girl’s steady gaze head on.

“What is going on here?”

The sudden cry of a man’s voice called out, pulling the archbishop’s attention away from the blonde. A rather familiar middle-aged man stepped out from the confessional booth, a look of confusion etched across his face

“Ah, Bernard.”

The archbishop remarked, recognising the esteemed man who held a prominent role in leading the education of youths in the kingdom.

“So, you were inside.”

Bernard’s eyes widened, stunned by the situation as the other man’s words slowly clicked in his mind.

“Ar- archbishop! If you were out here then…”

His eyes dropped to Rebecca, who simply smiled back at him.

“A child?!”

His face paled immensely. His mind ran back through everything he had just confessed in panic.

Seeing his shock-stricken face, the old man could not help but pity him.

“Perhaps it would be best if you came again another time, Bernard.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. The man left hurriedly, trying to conserve whatever left he could of his pride.

“Bye.”

The young blonde waved excitedly, grinning from ear to ear as she did.

“It was nice listening to you. Don’t worry, you shouldn’t be ashamed of your love for women’s clothing.”

She called out to him, loudly.

“You should embrace your passions and skills for lacing too! It sounds like you’re great at it, so hold your head up high with pride.”

“I believe that is quite enough, disciple Rebecca.”

The archbishop chastised with a sigh.

“Now what am I going to do with you?”

He looked at her with a disapproving gaze.

There was a cough as he turned to his side, acknowledging the presence of the disciple who had followed him along from his office. The man spoke up as he made a suggestion that might be the answer to his problem right now.

“If I may suggest, Archbishop, if we put her in some of the lower classes, we’ll be able to supervise her more closely.”

‘Ah, that’s right.’

He knew the perfect person for this.

“Is disciple Phylis still the ever-willing educator?”

Phylis Spinner was an eccentric person.

A senior disciple who has been in residency with the Holy Temple for a number of decades now, and was respected for his numerous publications (on appearance changing magic) but was still unconventional nonetheless. His overly enthusiastic behaviour and bull-headed willingness to push his knowledge down onto the junior disciples below him sometimes put him at odds with other disciples, who were more focused on their own magical pursuits. But it was because of this, he may have been the perfect candidate to teach their newest disciple.

A duty that the man had prided himself upon as he felt his passion to teach ignite further (so much so that he spent another sleepless night writing away). Unfortunately for him, this young girl just happened to be one of the most difficult (if not the worst) student that an educator could ever have.

1. She was simply the type of student that just had to argue back.

“I don’t agree on that, Sir,”

Rebecca repeated once more, her arms firmly folded across her chest as she sent a sceptical gaze at the boiling black cauldron in front of her.

“It’s simply illogical.”

With his patience already worn thin from her stubbornness to believe him, Phylis sighed and decided that he would just have to prove it to her.

“Let me show you!”

But first, he would need one final ingredient. The man reached over and quickly plucked a strand of the young girl’s blonde hair.

“Ouch!”

He held it up for the rest of the class to see with a triumphant smile.

“A strand of hair is what we need for this potion, and we will then be able to see your innermost feelings!”

He dropped it into the potion with a smirk.

KABOOM!

From within his office, the archbishop felt the ground tremor beneath his feet as the room shook momentarily. He raised a white brow as he glanced out at the open window beside him.  

‘Blue smoke?’

The trail appears to have been coming from one of the teaching laboratories.

‘Must have been another experiment gone wrong.’

He dismissed the incident with ease, his focus turned back to the tea in his hand.

“…”

Stunned silence hung in the air as the smog of blue began to slowly evaporate, a window was opened to further ventilate the air of the laboratory. 

“…my potion,”

Nevertheless, this did nothing to ease the shocked man who had dropped to his knees, his eyes wide as he stared at the toppled over cauldron.

“That’s impossible! What went wrong?”

He cried out.

“It was perfect, everything was perfect! The numbers, the calculations, the right amount of – “

‘All the ingredients were the same as the other times I’ve taught this class, the only variable that had changed was the hair.’

He whipped his head back to look at Rebecca.

“Have you ever done anything to your hair before?”

“...I permanently dyed my hair with magic.”

‘Of course! An unnatural source!’

The man should have known as he cursed himself beneath his breath. His hands moved to his notebook as he jotted down the information for his next paper.

2. There was the fact that the blonde was clearly deluded in a sense.

“A table of all the Holy elements.”

Phylis reiterated once more, his pointer tapping over the tabled diagram of the fundamental 118 elements that every disciple must first learn by heart before they were to take the next step further in their alchemy studies.

“A Periodic table…”

Rebecca retorted back. Her eyes glanced briefly to the incredibly familiar boxed diagram from her past life.

“ Holy elements.”

The man emphasised, his teeth barely clenching.

But the young girl was relentless.

“ Periodic table.”

She began listing down the first few elements she very vividly remembered in order. Ticking them off her fingers one after another as she did.

“Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium,”

Although they were most certainly not called as such in this world, their overall symbols and order were most definitely the same. You could not convince her otherwise. 

Nonetheless, her actions only went on to further confuse her fellow disciples who stared at her oddly.

“What sort of nonsense is she going on about?”

If that had not been enough to put her at odds with the rest of her fellow disciples, then there was:  3. Her bizarre and incredibly unorthodox method of carrying out even the simplest of tasks.

“Make a fire,”

Phylis instructed, tiredly. The man had all but given up on her, deciding instead to keep her preoccupied for the time being so that he may proceed with teaching the rest of his junior disciples the joy and excitement of his specialist subject. At least some of them would appreciate it, him and his life’s work.

“Sure,”

Rebecca agreed before she held her hand out to him.

Phylis stared down at it, confusedly.

“Give me two sticks of wood, please.”

He had meant through alchemy…

And if that was not the worst part, then it would be the fact that: 4. He just had to pair her up with another troublemaker within his class. A decision that he had initially thought would have pushed them to become better disciples (if they were pitted against each other competitively)… but only resulted in the worst outcome.

“Phylis,”

“Phineaus.”

The young man remarked sleepily, a lazy expression on his lips as he sat back with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Phy-lis.”

“Phylum.”

The man’s face turned red in fury. 

“You are being absolutely ridiculous, Deacon Smith!”

The man finally snapped, having enough of the older teen who always did this when it came to him.

“This is why you’re still the slowest disciple to remain in this stage of study, despite the promising talent you once showed in your youth.”

Without another word, the man stormed out of the door, dismissing his lesson for the day.

A result that Deacon was pleased with as the older teen stretched out his arms with a smirk before turning to his newly assigned desk mate.

“And that kid, is how you get an early day off.”

“Okay, Beacon.”

The blonde girl replied, giving him a thumbs up.

“Oh, you learn quickly.”

‘No… I actually thought your name was Beacon.’

With so many people constantly passing in and out of her life lately, and the vast number of white robbed disciples wandering around the institute, it was evident that the blonde-haired girl would not remember the name and face of every individual she passed.

“Hey,”

Deacon smirked at her, mischievously, ushering for her to come closer.

“What to see something great?”

“...Sure?”

What could possibly go wrong?

In retrospect, a lot of things. Somebody should have probably warned the young girl that Deacon Smith happened to be the Holy Temple’s resident explosives enthusiast with a bad habit of unsupervised extreme experimenting.

It was truly a wonder that Phylis Spinner had lasted as long as he did.

“Send her back!”

The man shouted, bursting through the doors of the archbishop’s office with his once pure white robes ashened grey and black, the helms of his garments burnt at its edges and still partially on fire. He stomped at the persistent flames viciously. 

“What happened to taking responsibility over the younger generation's minds?”

Giovanni (who just happened to be in a meeting with the archbishop) spoke up, amusedly.

“I'll take it back.”

He threw his arms at them, before leaving.

“Keep her away from me! One Deacon Smith is already enough, I don’t need a second one to contend with.”

“Wow,”

Giovanni remarked with an amused expression on her lips.

“Coloured me impressed – she broke him.”

From behind his desk, the elder man sent the senior disciple a less than amused stare. Now what was he to do?

It was plainly obvious to the aged man that Rebecca was a child that could not be left unsupervised, especially with numerous unwarded confessionals within reach. A leopard did not change its spots, and it was clear from the first time round that the young girl could not be trusted to misbehave again. And with even the stubborn disciple educator, Phylis Spinner taken out of the picture, it seems that he has been left with no choice but to supervise her remaining studies himself. At least until her magic levels reach the appropriate levels.

“You’re curious – too curious, Rebecca Vanderwood.”

Sitting across him within the walls of his office, an all too familiar (unfortunately) blonde-haired girl smiled, her hands crossed together on her lap.

“Isn’t it natural for a young child to be curious in nature, Archbishop?”

“Yes, it is. And that’s normally a good thing in most circumstances because it invokes a sense of exploration and development of learning.”

He answered, admittingly.

“But in your case, your curiosity will be your undoing child.”

That seemed to raise some sort of amusement in Rebecca.

“Oh, how so?”

“Sometimes, disciple Rebecca, there are simply things that we should not meddle in.”

That seemed to catch her attention as she sat up in her seat, leaning forward as she spoke.

“But what if you know that something unjust is going to happen, and you have the chance to potentially stop or prevent it from happening? How could I just sit still, watch and do nothing?” 

He chose not to answer that, not willing to continue this little mind game of hers. Instead, he left her a warning, one that he hopes she would at least take into heart for the future.

“You have good intentions, but you tend to go about it the wrong way. You never stop for a moment to consider the consequences of your actions that will follow, never on yourself or others… And one day, that will come to be your downfall and you will find yourself intertwined in a rather messy situation, child.”

Well, he had been right about the last part.

Preview of the next chapter:

Chapter Text

They say that sometimes the best way to understand something is to look from within. It would provide you with a new perspective, a fresh take into the inner workings of an idea – or in this case, the Holy Temple.

After being labelled a walking disaster (that cannot be left unsupervised or watched by the majority of the institute), it was decided that Rebecca’s education would take on a new plan of supervision, a more personalised one to say the least. And thus, that was how she found herself sitting at the Archbishop’s desk each passing day. A stack of reading material beside her, and a withering old man before her.

With the highest authority and greatest patience/tolerance within the institution, it was only natural that he would be tasked to personally guide their latest disciple. An unfortunate burden he would say the least, but with magic talents manifesting less and less, the institute had no choice but to take whoever they could and nourish them into great talents to the best of their abilities. Expulsion was nearly impossible within the Holy Temple, but he’d admit, Rebecca had come very close. It was their desperation for talents that saved her.

Nevertheless, under his close supervision, Rebecca Vanderwood had quietly turned ten quietly, with a single cake and a group of clapping robed disciples (excluding Deacon) fearfully standing at a distance. In all honesty, she didn’t think that she had been that bad during her current residence but others would beg to differ.

As his fingers traced through his aged beard, he could not help but watch the child before him as she buried herself within her readings. She was a sharp one he would admit, but there was something else about her that was abnormal. He could not put his finger on it, there was an unnaturality about her that bothered him… he just couldn’t pinpoint it…

A knock on the door pulled in out of his thoughts as a familiar face popped through.

“Viscount Dahnes, how lovely it is to see you again.”

 The man rose from his seat to greet him.

“Greetings Archbishop,”

Viscount Dahnes began, entering through the door with an overflowing file tucked snugly under his arms. Upon the sight of the young girl at the desk, he stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, is this perhaps a bad time? I see that you are preoccupied.”

“Not at all,”

The Archbishop waved a hand before turning to his pupil.

“Disciple Rebecca, you are excused for the time being. Please carry out the remainder of your self-study in the library.”

Rebecca nodded, quietly. 

It was a common occurrence by now, business drop-ins and appointments. Despite their decision to childishly isolate her from her peers, the blonde did have to admit that this private pupillage allowed her to grasp a deeper understanding of the administration of the Holy Temple and the people that came and went. All in all, it truly was a business at its core (they had to survive somehow!). In her mind, she classified these visitors to three types: those that came for or to order blessings, those that required access or approval for magical related studies and individuals that consulted about magic for everyday objects within the Capital market.

Most nobles that she had encountered within the Holy Temple fell into the last category, and from the file that looked ready to explode, it seems like a long discussion between the two is to come.

Still… her mind skidded in its tracks as she felt a sense of familiarity wash over her. This man… she recognised him from somewhere. Her hands moved to lightly tap against her forehead.

“Please, have a seat, Viscount.”

He gestured to the now open seat.

Viscount Dahnes graciously nodded to Rebecca who had willingly given up her spot as she passed.

“Ah, thank you very much.”

“Thank you for listening, Sister. You don’t know how much it means to me that somebody is willing to listen to me.”

It suddenly hit her. Rosemary Convent.

‘That voice,’

Her feet slowed down as she turned back to stare at the now comfortably sat man.

‘I know that voice.’

As her hands opened the door, she could not help but stare curiously at the pair left behind. If there was a chance…

“Shut the door behind you, Disciple Rebecca.”

He could see the twinkle in her eyes, never a good sign. Nevertheless, the child obliged with his instructions as he turned to his desk, his finger tracing lightly against a silencing rune set within his office. Like all his meetings, they would remain strictly confidential and away from prying eyes – the biggest one just outside.

Even with her ear pressed against the door, it was impossible to hear anything. Rebecca clicked her tongue in annoyance.

 ‘...silencing circle.’

“There’s got to be another way.”

“…eavesdropping is bad…”

The girl whipped around, her eyes widened before dropping as she spotted Deacon, a fellow ally in destruction.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

Deacon would not tattle; it was too much effort for him to do so. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t ask him for help herself.

“Say… you wouldn’t happen to know a way to break a silencing circle, without explosives, would you?”

“Without explosives… no.”

Her shoulders dropped in disappointment.

“…with a magical artefact though, yes.”

A single brow rose in doubt as Rebecca folded her arms across her chest.

“Do you even have a magical artefact?”

They were not the easiest thing to get a hold of, and were rarely detached from their respective owners. She had heard of the dangerous trials, material collection and overall efforts that it took to craft one – all much too tedious for Deacon’s liking.

“As a matter of fact, I do, Junior Disciple Rebecca.”

Deacon informed her, dryly. There was a hint of regret in his eyes, it was understandable though. Ownership of such items came with hefty responsibility, everything that the older teen despised.

“I just got it a few days ago, and am now considered to be your senior disciple.”

“Disciple Phylis signed off on that?”

“Disciple Phylum forced it onto me,”

Admittingly, Deacon should have seen it coming.

“I had already completed all the necessary core modules required by the Holy Temple, I just needed to actually complete the final trial to find the central ingredient needed.”

“So, they sent you foraging…”

“At the bottom of a volcano inhabited by territorial fire golems.”

It would explain the singed helms of his slightly darkened robes.

“… what was your ingredient again?”

Now that was a complicated question to answer.

“Well, you see, it depends on which magical artefact you want.”

Deacon stated, before delving a little further.

“The Holy Temple doesn’t make these artefacts in advance to give out to students, it’s the disciple who do (which is why there’s such a limited number of them) once they’ve reached a certain stage of their study, before they’re assigned a more permanent life position.”

This sounded somewhat familiar to Rebecca.

‘… so, a graduation exam.’

“So, you decided to make…?”

She gestured towards him, curious to see what their resident arsonist chose to create.

“This.”

Deacon dug through his robes before holding out his artefact. It received a lacklustre response, most likely due to its dullness.

‘… a black rubiks cube…’

“Fascinating...”

Rebecca drawled with sarcasm, her hands slowly clapping.

“Tell me, what does this great magical artefact do?”

She would continue to entertain the poor soul.

“Structural analysis,”

That… sounded nothing like what she would have anticipated for him to choose.

“…you did choose your magical artefact, right?”

The old boy scoffed, tossing it into the air before catching it proudly.

“Hey, it may not look like much, but this bad boy lets me breakdown and analyse the essential components of anything magical or mana related.”

‘And allows me to reconfigure it into a new type of explosive.’

He pocketed the item, seeing that it was not being as appreciated as it rightfully should.

“Like silencing circles?”

Her blue eyes gleamed in anticipation, her hands gestured towards the Archbishop’s rune enforced office encouragingly for a demonstration.

“Would you care to demonstrate then? For research purposes of course.”

Deacon considered it for a moment, tossing the cube out in the air and catching it with ease.

“Nah.”

Rebecca’s hopeful expression flattered.

“I don’t feel the need to get on the old man’s bad side before my position assignment.”

He had pissed off one old man already, and look how that turned out. He had awoken to high temperatures and his joints restraint, surrounded and almost pounded to death by fire golems – a trial entirely forced upon him because he made one snide joke about Phylis’s receding hairline.

“Why don’t you get a crystal ball since you seem so eager to eavesdrop on people’s conversations?”

“Like the one in the Archbishop’s office?”

“Yes, but no. You can tailor your magical artefact for specific purposes at times, it just depends on which core ingredient you chose. If you acquire a Truth dragon’s tear as a core, you can watch and listen to specific events as long as you know its exact time and date.”

Deacon told her in a matter-of-fact tone as he recalled what he briefly remembered about that specific object.

 “You’ll learn about the different types of magical artefacts eventually.”

Rebecca was silent for a moment, letting his words sink in before speaking.

“…you know, you’re actually a lot smarter than you look.”

“I get that a lot.”

Yawning, he decided it was finally time to go. After all, he still needed to recover from last week’s manic escapade.  

“Well, you better hit the books then, Junior Disciple Rebecca because you’ll need to undergo at least three years of studies/training to even be eligible for an artefact.”

“But you took six years!”

He waved his hand nonchalantly as he turned.

“That’s because I decided to rest and take three years off before I completed the final trial,”

“Until disciple Phylis forced you to do the final trial.”

Rebecca quipped; amusement clear on her face from the smirk she sent him.

He did not doubt for a second that they had all enjoyed that little stunt pulled on him, much to his irritation and annoyance.

“Yeah, until that guy decided to finally get rid of me.”

 He clicked his tongue.

“You should probably not delay your final trial.”

With that he finally departed, deciding to at least leave some knowledge to his youngest fellow disciple.

‘My final trial…’

She could not deny it but aiming for a magical artefact sounded like a good enough goal to aim for within the next few years. Not only would it give her something to work towards, but it would also prove to help her in gathering information (or snoop, as Deacon had put it) through less intrusive and destructive methods.

With a new resolve set, one eager Rebecca marched towards the library where she would have to quicken her pace of knowledge acquisition, if she wanted to be ready in time for the next series of final trials.

At the age of 12, she had finally brought her knowledge up to a level where it would be acceptable for her to re-join classes. It did also help that she had been quiet over the past two years, most likely due to the fact that she had established a new goal for herself and the fact that Deacon Smith had finally been booted released into the world with an allocated role.

With Deacon gone, most of the other disciples had actually found the girl to be rather decent to be around and did not mind befriending her with her eccentricities toned down, or restrained.

“Disciple Rebecca,”

He caught her in passing, calling out to her as she moved through the hallway.

“Yes, Archbishop?”

The aged man gestured for her to come closer, so she did. When she was standing in front of him, he rummaged through his pockets.

“A letter, or two,”

He told her, passing said items into her palms.

“From Rosemary Convent.”

Rebecca graciously accepted them, a smile on her lips as she looked over the ever-familiar handwriting. It was not often when she received mail, but whenever she had, they had been from her friends back in the Convent who simply loved to keep her updated about what was happening in the outside world, since she was essentially isolated from it all. Although they had come less often as they used to (most probably because they had all moved on with their lives), it was always a pleasant surprise to receive a notice or two and she greatly appreciated them.

“Thank you, Sir.”

There was no doubt about the sender.

‘It’s from Simone…’

As she sat on her bed, she eagerly opened up the first letter and read.

Dearest Rebecca…

Her blue orbs widened as she digested its contents. It was truly a game changer.

Baron and Baroness Silverstone had unfortunately encountered an accident upon their return from Capital and passed. Because the Baroness struggled to conceive and the Baron’s respectable, utmost loyalty to his wife, there is no heir to inherit the main title. Therefore, it has been passed down to the unsavoury head of the branch family, which has now assumed the role of the main family.

‘It’s happening.’

There was no doubt that the world is setting itself up for the events that lead to the novel’s main storyline. And if her hunch had been right about the second Baron Silverstone, it would mean that Lisa would be adopted soon.

She did quick maths in her head.

‘If the Crown Prince is a year older than me, that would make me the same age as his fiancée.’

Celestial Academy accepts students from the age of 15, so that means that Lisa would enter the Academy in 5 years if she is to be adopted by the new Baron within the next year or so. It made sense, it would give her enough time to adapt to high society and transform into the young lady the book had initially presented her to be and not… well, what she had seen.

As she folded the first letter away, she looked over at the next letter.

‘What’s this?’

It was from Rosemary Convent too, but its sender was not Simone. As Rebecca opened the letter, she could not help but chuckle.

“How convenient.”

There were two letters in one, and as she read the first, she could not help but laugh. It appears she had another comrade in abandonment in the form of Tilly who had forewent her nun training to hunt money instead. In the other, Hilda had managed to finally complete her training (by the skin of her teeth) and would be moved to a Convent in a different region. She finally accomplished her goal, and for that Rebecca was happy for her.

“Looks like everyone is well though.”

The blonde couldn’t help but muse. At times like these, she sometimes wondered back to her own family and how they were doing. But there were no letters from home, well, she really didn’t expect there to be.

‘I wonder how Jon is doing?’

“Disciple Rebecca,”

Archbishop began, his eyes looking down at the now fourteen-year-old Rebecca. 

If somebody had told him that the rumbustious problem child would have become one of the youngest disciples to undertake a final trial four years ago, he would have laughed but the blonde-haired girl had thrown herself into her studies. She had dedicated herself to this moment and he would not stop her in her pursuit, but as per procedure, he still had to give her one last chance to back out if she so desired it.

“…you do understand that you don’t have to do this, you can still withdraw your decisions.”

But it didn’t seem like she needed it. Instead, her eyes showed no sense of hesitation and gleamed with eager anticipation. 

Rebecca wanted to do this. She would not back out, after all, she had been planning and preparing for this very moment for the past four years now.

“I am well aware of the risks, Archbishop.”

It was time.

“I am ready to take on my final trial.”

And she was more than ready to do so with a trump card up her sleeve. A smirk found its way to her lips as she patted the bag by her side.

“Understood,”

The old man sighed, there was no deterring her. It was also not his place to stop a disciple if they were willing to do so, all he could do was wish her well and send her off on her way.

“In order to create your specified magical artefact, Disciple Rebecca, you will need a single tear of a truth dragon. This transportations scroll will take you to the location of the nearest truth dragon’s nest. You must retrieve the ingredient before the circle of the scroll fades entirely,”

He explained to her, seriously. It was important for her to return to the circle; it was probably the most key point of this trial.

“If you fail to do so, you can consider your trial failed… and yourself left for dead.”

It had led to the unfortunate demise of the very disciple who had undertaken the same trial before her.

“Good luck, Disciple Rebecca.”

She took the scroll from his hands, a light emitting from the rune beneath her. With a flash, she was gone. They could only pray for her safe return.

It was only moments later when smoke from the rune disappeared when a question was posed.

“Was she allowed to bring a bag with her?”

Now that they mentioned it… the Archbishop could not help but recall that there had been a rather stuffed back slung over one of her shoulders before she vanished. He hummed lightly to himself before responding.

“There are no rules against disciples bringing along items as long as they carry out the trial by themselves.”

What was the worst she could do?

Tear of a truth dragon – her crystal ball’s core ingredient.

For all crystal balls, a dragon’s tear is an essential ingredient. Depending on the artefact's desired function, the type of dragon that each disciple must face and overcome varied. In his youth and prior to taking on the position of Archbishop, the man had chosen to create his crystal ball for the purpose of protecting and surveying the people of the Holy Temple. Therefore, he had to retrieve his tear ingredient from the continent’s only Black dragon – the protector of the Dark lands, who had prevented demons from escaping and humans from entering (at least when it had still been alive).

When she had asked the elder man about his methods (for research purposes), the Archbishop had simply laughed. His trial had been fortunately easy as the mythical beast had been fond of humans and did not mind conversing with them. An unfortunate miscalculation on Black dragon’s part since it had resulted in its death, the release of demons into the continent and hostility of all dragons toward humans now.

“It’s unfortunate,”

There was a solemn look in his eyes, as though longing to speak to an old friend.

As Rebecca had pondered over that conversation the months before her trial, she could not help but sigh. From what the books and text could tell her, it appears that the White dragon, also known as the truth dragon, was the hardest to face with a 90% fail rate. Living in a cave on the peak of a rocky, isolated mountain, the beast is said to oversee and hear everything near and far. Nothing escaped its ear and eyes – especially lies. Its known hatred for deception and humans had intensified immensely following the death of other dragons by human hands over the years.

And considering her… less than approving past which it most probably knew of, Rebecca believed that it would be best to avoid any direct confrontation if she could. Aside from that, there was also her main problem that white dragons seldom cried or shed tears. In fact, the last recorded person to have made a crystal ball from the truth dragon had spent three days cracking dad jokes before he successfully jerked a tear from the being. But as dryly sarcastic as Rebecca was, the young girl didn’t have the time nor patience to humour this mythical creature. Luckily for her, she remembered other effective methods that could evoke tears.

‘It’s a good thing I asked Deacon to prepare this beforehand,’

As she stood before the cave’s entrance, Rebecca sighed. It was time. Her hands rummaged into her backpack as she plucked a cloth, which she proceeded to wrap around her mouth and nose. As her hand dipped once more to grab her goggles, a chilling voice spoke from within.

“Do you really think that is the right thing to do, ‘ Rebecca Vanderwood ’?”

From within its territory, the White dragon waited for a response. Of course, it knew she was here. It had anticipated her arrival since her declaration of creating a crystal ball four years ago and was well aware that what to come would not be a pleasant experience for its being considering her track record since stealing that body, still – it was curious as it watched her with narrowed eyes. She plucked a white object from her bag. It recalled that she had a friend make it, but what it was… was new to it. 

“Yes.”

She alighted the small string attached to the object before tossing it into the cave as a burst of smoke exploded from the ball. It was unexpected, and it hurt.

“You disrespectful brat!”

The mythical beast felt a sting in its eyes, abruptly rising from its former resting position to attack but its vision blurred. Water and tears formed instead.

“This is cheating!”

“No, it’s not.”

Rebecca had moved into the cave, a flask in hand as she held it out from beneath the creature, careful to not get stomped on as she collected her prized tears.

“They never specified a method that I had to use to gather a dragon’s tear, just that I needed a tear.”

And pepper smoke bombs had been the perfect weapon of choice.

“You damned thief! First, you steal that body and now my tears!”

But she was already gone, having collected more than enough materials for her artefact.

Upon her return to the Holy Temple, they had carried out the final step where she stood amongst the creation rune, ingredients gathered before her in a single cauldron. Her eyes closed as she placed her palm before her, reciting the incantation word for word. She felt a warmth beneath her hands, and suddenly it was gone. When her eyes open, blue orbs landed on the newly forged artefact before her.

It was done. The Archbishop felt a small sense of pride as he approached her.

“And what shall you do with this new artefact of yours, Disciple Rebecca?”

“I shall seek the truth.”

Rebecca spoke confidently as she picked up her newly acquired possession, holding it out to the air.

‘Right…’

As her fellow disciples clapped for her success, they chose to remain silent about her declaration with plastered smiles to mask their confusion.

“...I see. Well then, we shall inform you once we have discussed your future position within the Holy Temple, Disciple Rebecca.”

The Archbishop told her. With the completion of her final trial, there was nothing left for them to teach her within the institution. What came next would be an allocation to her new position within the Holy Temple, or its out-location roles, where she would remain for the rest of her life.

During the past four years, he had watched Rebecca thrive as the young child had grown her skills and knowledge. He was proud of her accomplishments and knew that she would go on to do great things in the future.

“Of course.”

But a leopard never changes its stripes, even more when equipped with a fiercer set of claws.

“Archbishop!”

It would only be two days later when a disciple burst through his office doors, a panic-stricken expression on her face as she pointed behind her.

“Please come quickly, one of the Priests has noticed something strange about the confessional.”

As he rose from his desk, he had an inkling that he already knew what the problem was.

Upon arrival, he was met with numerous Holy Temple Priests and confessors who cried out about how they sometimes felt as though there was somebody there, a third party secretly listening. One had even claimed to have heard the words of divorce whispered into her ear, while a priest had mysteriously received a piece of paper in his hand with legal advice and how to proceed with a certain land dispute confession.

‘…how familiar,’

As he placed his wrinkled palms against the confessional booth, he felt a foreign presence that was indeed interfering with the magic runes. It was blinking… almost as though it was transmitting a signal somewhere.

“ Trace. ”

A blue string emitted from the booth before running past them, leading the way to the source of this foreign interference. The curious group followed it… to find themselves standing outside the room of one of their most infamous disciples to date.

Really, they should have known…

“Disciple Rebecca!”

Without hesitation, the door of her room slammed open to find said disciple before her crystal ball… and surrounded by open journal books detailing every confession that had come through the Holy Temple since… an unknown period of time. A large guiltless smile on her lips as she waved at them.

‘Not again.’

The Archbishop could veil his disappointment, a hand running down his face as he let out an exasperated sigh. He had considered her for a bureaucratic position within the Holy Temple’s administrative and policy department, but in light of her latest misdeed revelation, he now needed to reassess her placement… and the confessional’s security loophole (again).

Therefore, it was no surprise that he and other seniors found themselves sitting at the roundtable of the highest tower, an emergency meeting called. A dire atmosphere lingered around the elders before one finally snapped, slamming his fist firmly onto the table.

“She’s too dangerous to keep within our walls.”

“… it’s a difficult situation, I’m afraid. She has completed her training, and acquired her artefact so technically should keep her but…”

“Letting her out into the world attached to our name would be like releasing another loose cannon with a permit to override the law.”

Their minds instantly turned to the case of one Deacon Smith, the last loose cannon to have come out of their fodder in the last few years… and the disaster that had occurred.

His first mission had been to install a new lighting network within the Imperial Palace’s portraits chamber – a simple mission. And it had initially gone well, until an ‘accidental’ spark got caught on the nearest Royal family portrait to it. Needless to say, the Crown Prince had not been pleased to hear about the demise of his newly painted portrait… and nearly found himself on fire.

Deacon Smith, the ever eccentric yet meticulously perfect at work man, absolutely swore on his life (that meant nothing since he was being sarcastic) that he didn’t realise it would happen when he had added an extra rune line (lies), despite getting into a ‘minor’ alteration with said portrait victim earlier in the day of the incident. Needless to say, he was swiftly relieved of his position within the Imperial Palace and was reassigned to a more suitable environment that was better for them, and thankfully to his liking.

But Rebecca… her strengths was certainly in law and policies… that much was evident and the Archbishop would give her credit for that, but it would be a risk to place her there… because who knows what the future of the Holy Temple would be if she was given that much administrative power, despite ironically being the source of said institution’s current administrative backlogging.

“I still say we should return her.”

It was Phylis, the man who had risen in rank to now become the Head of the Holy Temple’s Magic Education department. Although not encountering the blonde disciple since her first years… it was evident that her presence was still a sore point in his pride as an educator.

“But how?”

Another pointed out before airing out their own frustrations.

“We have no time with all these requests for engagement blessings the nobles have been sending me.”

Ah yes, it was springtime… peak engagement season in the Capital and an incredibly busy time for the Holy Temple, who were in high demand. To further emphasise her point, the senior disciple summoned the piles of letters who had only just arrived today, picking up the letter at the very top for her fellow disciples to see.

“Even today Lady Vanessa Vanderwood sent me a request for her son’s engagement!”

A lightbulb blinked.

“Wait… Vanderwood ? As in… Rebecca Vanderwood .”

Silence settled amongst the table before hands were slammed, it was a sign.

‘An opportunity has finally come at last!’

As Vanessa Vanderwood watched the Archbishop bless her son and Millie Ana Ward, she could not help but feel a sense of relief and pride that not only were they the very first engagement blessing ceremony of this season, but that the Holy Temple’s highly esteemed Archbishop had come to carry out the ceremony himself. She could almost feel the looks of envy that other mothers in high society would give her just for this feat, and she relished in it. After all, blessing ceremonies often took time and did have waiting queues. Furthermore even if they did occur, it was normally done by the Priest and never really the Archbishop.  For them to get such a prompt response a day later and the ceremony occurring within the week itself, it was clear that they were getting some sort of special treatment, not that she was complaining.

She could not help but grin from behind her fan. She had found a lovely bride for her son, one that was docile, polite and came from a worthy family. All felt right in her world… but there was this anticipating sense of dread… as though she had forgotten something very important.

“And with this, I bear witness to your promise to be faithful to each other and hereby bless your engagement.”

With a wave of a hand, a gold string linked between the two teens, blessing their bond.

“May you both remain together and be happy.”

The elderly man spoke with a smile. With this their ceremony was now complete.

From beside her, her husband clapped before exchanging words with Count Ward and his wife. The ceremony had been intimate and smaller than she would like, mainly because their response had been so last minute, but it was to her advantage as it leveraged a level of exclusivity within noble high society.

There was a cough, their attention pulled back to one of the accompanying seniors of the Holy Temple’s entourage.

‘Was there supposed to be more in the blessing ceremony?’

The older woman’s eyebrows narrowed as an expression of realisation dawned upon the elder man’s face.

“… ah yes!”

He coughed into the palm of his hand before ushering for a short white robed member of his entourage to step forward (as the remaining members stepped back… and onto a teleportation rune).

“And for our final blessing, to the Vanderwood family,”

Count Vanderwood puffed his chest, feeling smug about the special blessing that they were about to receive. It was not often when a specific family could receive an address directly from the Archbishop of the Holy Temple.

“Thank you for having us today, it was a joyous event. One that should be enjoyed by everyone, all members of a family. And for that… we return to you, your daughter.”

A fan clattered to the ground.

“(the now discharged) former disciple Rebecca.”

All for the theatrical dramatics, the newly discharged disciple happily pulled her hood off as she smiled down at her little brother’s confused expression from the podium where she stood.

‘Rebecca?’

“Hello, Jon,”

A Cheshire-like smile grew upon her lips, the source of some of his childhood nightmares. Suddenly, all those locked core memories came flowing back into his mind as Jon’s face paled.

“Did you miss me?”

“Wait, Archbishop!”

Vanessa shouted back as she tried to reach the elder man, but he had stepped back on the teleportation circle. A smile of relief on his face as he waved back them cheerily, the whole entourage did.

‘Not my problem anymore.’

And with a flash, he was gone. But Rebecca remained.

In a nutshell: 

Author's life update:

Chapter Text

In every young noble lady’s life, there was one momentous milestone they must first overcome before entering high society. To many, it was the most important event of their lives, their make it or break it moment – after all, one good impression could be all it takes to have an opportunity to marry into a better family. So much so that numerous noble families poured out an incredible amount of money and effort to make sure that their daughters had the perfect debut, and there was no better stage to do so than the official Imperial Debutante Summer ball, the grandest debutante ball. One that takes place every year in the Capital before the start of a new academic year.

Unfortunately for the Vanderwood family, they never anticipated that their daughter would ever ‘return’ to them and were completely unprepared when launching her into high society, a necessity as Imperial law states that only socially debuted young ladies can enrol Celestial Academy. Thus, they hurriedly rushed to get rid introduce her as soon as possible.

Now, considering the fact that she had always been such a hot topic of gossip amongst high society since her childhood, perhaps it was only natural that her presence would strike a chord within some of the individuals in attendance. It was either that, or they were simply admiring her emerald peak lapelled suit as she entered the hall.

“…look, isn’t that…”

Various orbs widened in surprise.

“She’s back,”

Came the hushed shock of another.

Anna frowned in confusion, glancing between her two friends who shared a knowing look between each other. The young lady frowned, feeling rather left out as she had only recently moved to Capital within the last three years. Coming from a Northern territory, but desperate to make friends, the young lady had done her best to move within various social circles in high society and certainly thought she knew everybody there was to know at this point, but clearly she did not. 

“Who?”

“Over there, that girl…”

A closed fan was pointed towards the blonde that had made her way to the refreshments table.

“Oh!”

Another girl in their circle of friends beside her gasped, covering her mouth in surprise.

“Wasn’t she sent to the Convent?”

Now Anna was even more confused. 

“What, why?”

“Oh, that’s right! You’re new to Capital, Anna, so you won’t know but…” Her friend motioned for her to lean in, she did. “She used to have quite the wild nightlife.”

“Sneaking out at night,”

‘It was dusk, not night.’

Rebecca mentally remarked, amused by the group’s lack of social awareness as their voices had vividly carried over to where she stood. 

“Hanging out in seedy bars and back-alley locations,”

‘It was just one tavern.’

“She even started a civil uprising supporting the commoners.”

‘Vive la revolution~’

“And she still dares to show her face here !”

‘Not like I had much of a choice.’

Celestial Academy had their enrollment requirements and there was no way that the blonde was going to miss entering the school this academic year, not when the storyline has finally begun. 

“Everyone knows that the Vanderwoods tried their best to hide her, but I heard that even the church didn’t want her.”

Rebecca had to hum in agreement there, they technically weren’t wrong there. She could remember a few individuals who had practically prayed for her removal. 

“Of course, they wouldn’t! Just look at what she’s wearing.”

The blonde glanced down at her outfit, pleased that the Vanderwood family’s tailor was still able to come through with her requests. 

‘A limited-edition custom-tailored tweed suit, made from the finest wool and bespoke for hers truly.’

Standing beside her, wincing in agony from all the gossip that only seemed to erupt all around them, Jonathan Vanderwood took another deep gulp of his sparkling juice as he felt his soul age another decade. And the poor young man hadn’t even taken over the family title yet.

‘So much for a discreet re-entry to society.’

His mother was not going to be getting her wish any time soon. The younger Vanderwood’s hands grasped his glass tighter as he turned to his elder sister whom he had been forced to monitor accompany.

“Please, dear sister, promise me that you’ll stay within my sights!” Pleaded the younger teen, exhaustedly. “Promise me.”

From across the room, he spotted his fiancée and waved. She was with her parents, it would be impolite for him to not say his greetings… but first, he shot his sister another look of admonishment – not that it was even having an effect on her.

“Sure, I’ll be by the food.”

Rebecca chirped back cheerily, sending her own hellos to her future-in-laws across the ballroom. 

“I swear I won’t move from the food – I’ll even swear by the ownership of my crystal ball, I’ll stay by the food.” She made an ‘x’ gesture over her heart with her finger. 

It did little to calm her brother’s nerves, but Jonathan would take it over nothing. He sighed to himself before walking away, he had familial relations to maintain after all.

Waving him off, Rebecca turned her attention back to the grand spread of food before her. It had been too long.

While the food she had been served at both Rosemary Covent and Holy Temple had not been terrible, they were certainly not the best and essentially nothing compared to work of the professional chefs that went to work for nobility. If there was anything that the blonde teen would be getting out of this ball tonight, it would be the satisfaction of a stomach full of good food.

“Not a bad selection.”

She told herself, her silver fork stabbing down into the red wine sauce steak she had picked up earlier.

“Why not try this?”

A voice suggested from beside her as a plate with what appeared to be sliced pieces of a honey roasted lamb chop was held out to her.

“Oh, well don’t mind if I do.” Who was she to deny free food?

She took a bite of the dish and relished in its taste as the tender meat melted in her mouth before pausing. 

‘Why did this scene seem so familiar?’

Blue eyes turned up, finally glancing over to the face of the brunette who had handed her the dish. She looked familiar, but Rebecca couldn’t seem to place where she had seen her before (which was perfectly understandable considering she hadn’t encountered any nobles for the past six years, and puberty did wonders at times).

There was a twinkle of amusement in the young lady’s dark green eyes as she chuckled from behind her opened fan (which did not help identifying at all).

“It has been a while, Lady Vanderwood,”

The brunette greeted, shutting her fan at last to reveal her entire face (not that it helped…). 

“I do not blame you if you do not remember me – the last time we had seen each other had been during His Majesty’s tea party.”

Her memory clicked as she was finally able to place the teen to the scene. Rebecca remembered her now.

‘Teacake girl.’

In the place of the young girl who had once hidden behind her bonnet, stood a tall and confident young lady now. Glazing over at her face, Rebecca could see that she had lost a lot of weight in her face.

‘She’s certainly grown into her features.’

“Have you been well?”

The blonde politely asked, which only earned herself a chuckle from the brunette.

“I feel like the question may be more appropriate towards you, Lady Vanderwood,”

Her companion reached out towards the tower of glasses on the table and picked up a drink for herself.

“Fair. You seem to know my name –“

“Who doesn’t.”

The young girl quipped back.

“- but pray tell, what is your name?”

“Clarissa Archibald.”

The brunette, now identified as Clarissa, introduced herself. An entertained smile adorned her lips before she took a sip of the Elderflower in her hand.

“It is lovely to meet you, Lady Archi –“

She heard a pedal stomped in her brain as all her thoughts suddenly came reeling to a stop as the words died in her mouth.

‘Wait a minute.’

Wasn’t that the name of the novel’s villainess?

Clarissa sighed at Rebecca’s expression.

“I see that you have heard as well.”

She took another sip of her drink before glancing around the room, catching a few openly curious gazes looking their way.

“I was not sure if the Holy Temple would even pay attention to frivolous news like this, but it appears I was wrong.”

Context – she desperately needed context here. What has she missed over the past few years?

“Well, yes,”

Rebecca laughed in an attempt to play it cool and recover from her initial blunder.

“With so many nobles coming in and out of the institute, it’s hard not to. We are not that isolated from the world.”

From the way Clarissa was smiling at her, she didn’t know if the noble believed her or was simply accommodating her quick-witted responses.

“I see. Well, how does it feel to be outside again then?”

“Freedom always tastes good.”

She was proud to answer honestly and mockingly raised the fork in her hand.

‘And the sweet defeat of your enemies as well.’

Now that, she would toast to.

Clarissa seemed to hum in agreement, placing her now emptied glass back down onto the table beside them.

“You know, I never did get a chance to thank you, Lady Vanderwood.” There was a seriousness in her voice now but from the way she gazed back out into the ballroom, there was a distant look in her eyes as they lingered amongst the crowd. “You showed me that I didn’t need to give up a part of myself to live up to the expectation and pressures of others, and I am grateful for that.”

The blonde was thoroughly confused.

“I did?”

Clarissa turned to her, her mind flashed back to a memory. One as fresh as yesterday.

“What do you mean you won’t do it? It’s an Imperial custom.”

Her assigned tutor barked back, a box of blonde hair dye in her hand as the bespectacled woman stared at her daringly.

‘Well, it’s a ridiculous Imperial custom!’

Why did she have to dye her hair blonde to fit into the Imperial family’s mould? Why did she have to change herself for them? She accepted the brutal education that came along with being Crown Princess, and she could also agree that there were some customs that needed to be followed but this?

“I said no,”

Clarissa shouted back, defiantly.

“And I stand by my statement.”

Her decision had left a bad taste in the Queen’s mouth, the woman had not been pleased to see the Head tutor return to her in tears but Clarissa did not care. If there was one thing that Clarissa Archibald took to heart, it was that this was her life. And why should she let other people dictate it?

“I truly am.”

It was one of the first and last things she remembered from her meeting with Lady Rebecca Vanderwood all those years ago. Even if the blonde did not seem to remember, Clarissa did. She always would, and she would always be grateful for it.

“Announcing the arrival of the stars of our Kingdom, their Royal Highnesses!”

There were sounds of blaring trumpets, followed by a marching band as the ballroom’s grand double set doors flung wide open. The main stars of the Debutante ball have finally arrived.

“And Crown Prince Wilhelm and the second Prince.”

‘Second Prince huh, that’s brutal.’

Rebecca could not help but mentally feel bad for the young boy, she gave his reputation a moment of silence. He was a Prince, but he was still a poor side character that did not even have a name.

From the corner of her eyes, Clarissa noticed a Palace aide glance around before finally spotting her. The uniformed man gestured for her to come and join them in the front, it was almost time for her debut as the kingdom’s future Crown Princess to be.

“Please excuse me, Lady Vanderwood,” Turning to her companion, she gave the blonde a small curtsey as she bowed her head politely. “I am afraid that I must go.”

It would be a lie to say that Rebecca was not slightly relieved by this.

‘Oh, thank goodness.’

But she made sure to hide it on her face.

“No, please. Do not let me keep you from your duties.”

The blonde waved as she left.

“Thank you.”

She watched Clarissa join the Palace aides, with some first tending to her appearance before the young lady was basically passed into Wilhelm’s arms. They both wore stiff expressions but the pair linked arms as the King introduced them. 

Rebecca was sure that there was some sort of speech taking place right now, but the words were completely lost upon her ears as she backed further and further into the corner of the room (promise to her brother forsaken). 

“Holy shit, Rebecca.”

She whispered to herself in disbelief, finally letting the panic take over.

“The villainess isn’t blonde. Clarissa Archibald is not blonde!”

It was a key defining feature of her appearance! It was a visual characteristic that fans of the novel had always discussed when it came to drawing comparisons between the female lead and villainess; and now it was gone!? Did their initial first meeting change the storyline? Did she ruin the story?

‘Wait a minute, I met Lisa before the start of the storyline too. Don’t tell me that I changed the heroine too!’

The blonde was all but crouching in the corner now, her head leaning against the wall as she silently bemoaned to herself. What would happen to the original storyline now?

Blue eyes glanced back at the recently engaged pair that had taken to the dance floor, opening the dance as they circled around the room.

So, they were still engaged in the end.

Rebecca nodded to herself, recomposing her soul as she stood up in relief. The story didn’t seem to have deviated too far from the original then, but still, she couldn’t risk it anymore.

“Like a fly on the wall, I’m going to stick to staying in the background.”

From now on, she was going to do her utmost best to stay away from any of the leads and let the events play out as naturally as they should. Reassuring herself, she took a bite into the cake that she had managed to also pick up from the refreshments table before they took it away.

‘Ah, the ever so Devon slice, an imperial luxury delight.’

Despite her mental declaration, it clearly did not happen in the end.

But to be fair, she had arguably been dragged into it. This was not her mess. 

‘There she is.’

Perched on the front steps of Celestial Academy’s entrance, Clarissa stood in all her elegant poise and glory. Besides her, the members of the Academy’s esteemed disciplinary council stood as they fulfilled their duties in welcoming new students (and pulling aside others for uniform correction checks). 

While every student in Celestial Academy was sold a standardised uniform, there were bound to be a few individuals (particularly young ladies from higher social standing families) that would attempt to alter (glamorise) their uniform slightly as a way to stand out from the students from ‘lesser’ distinguished families. This often included adding accessories and details (such as pearls and gold), which were prohibited as it would defeat the uniform’s purpose to promote a sense of unity amongst students in the first place. And while Rebecca was all for the cause, it did not mean that a girl could not try.

When her brother first caught sight of the blonde this morning, Jonathan had to rub his eyes a few times to ensure that he was truly seeing the impossible. The teen (and her parents likewise) were shocked that the blonde would actually follow the school dress code – “hah,” she had to scoff there.

Now, Rebecca never had any intentions of wearing the academy’s skirt. 

But then she remembered the book’s plot and she recalled Celestial Academy’s rigid policy of carrying out annual uniform checks on students when they first entered school. So, she had to play it smart and decided to pack her ‘true’ uniform in her luggage bag instead.

Once safely through the mass of incoming students and checked into her private dorm room, the blonde was more than happy to swap the academy’s skirt for a pair of trousers (courtesy of the gent’s uniform). And then she was off again, back towards the front entrance to finally witness the highly anticipated (and long awaited) first meeting between the novel’s heroine and villainess.

She remembered that it had been a tense first meeting.

But a pivotal one that would mark the beginning of a rocky relationship between two people from completely different worlds. 

‘Subtly’ crouched behind a neatly trimmed hedge bush in an attempt to be discreet (and failing quite badly by the number of fingers pointing her way), Rebecca scanned the crowd of incoming students in anticipation. Perhaps it was a preference that transmigrated over with her following passing, but she really did enjoy reading/watching tense first encounters between protagonist and their antagonist, especially when you just know that this encounter is bound to set the tone of the rest of the story.

If her memory serves her right, Lisa’s first day at Celestial Academy was marked by the harsh admonishment she received from Clarissa for wearing the wrong shoes (brown instead of black leathered). And as ridiculous as it sounds when said aloud, it can not be denied that the author had successfully weaved the underlying issue of classism through the pair’s introductions, highlighting their contrasting perspectives on life, all while also revealing Clarissa’s disdain for commoners at the same time. In the novel, Clarissa’s fixation on Lisa’s lowly origins (despite her new status as a Baron’s daughter following her mother’s marriage) was a point of contention between the pair, and was further emphasised by the villainess’s action of tripping the red head as a reminder her of her ‘true’ status – dirt bottom.

Now, from the brief encounters that Rebecca has had with the noble, Clarissa had never once revealed her stance towards commoners to her. But then again, Rebecca was a noble from birth. Her status and origins were vastly different from Lisa’s, regardless of the questionable and scandalous nature of her childhood. Perhaps, this moment would change everything… Perhaps the real Clarissa Archibald will be unveiled.

“What’s your name?”

‘Right on que!’

Rebecca’s bright blue eyes perked up as she gripped the clumps of leaves in her hand with anticipation. She was practically leaning out of the bush she was hiding behind.

“Lisa Mill- Silverstone,”

The now identified heroine shyly corrected herself, a telltale sign that the young lady was still not used to her newly minted status.

She watched Clarissa cross her arms, her eyes dropping to Lisa’s brown loafers in disapproval as she chided the red-haired girl about them. From the distance she was watching them from, Rebecca couldn’t hear the exact words spoken but she didn’t need to as she knew the scene by heart. Her mouth moved with each word as she recited the lines in her head.

As expected, Lisa instantly bowed her head shamefully at Clarissa, her cheeks and ears tinted red with a hint of embarrassment for failing to read the new entrant instructions correctly. 

‘And now…’

Clarissa dismissed the red head. 

Rebecca held her breath in suspense, waiting for Clarissa to trip her…

Only she didn’t.

In fact, Clarissa didn’t move at all… but Lisa still fell – by herself?

‘Wait,’

The red head dropped like a sack of potatoes onto the ground.

There was a moment of silence… but it only lasted for a brief moment before some students bolted over to the red head’s side, moving to offer her a helping hand.

“I’m alright, thank you for your help.”

Lisa said, gratefully, taking all the help she could get before her lips quivered. The young lady  turned back to Clarissa with tears ready to stream down her eyes.

“I knew that the gap between our statuses was wide, but isn’t it too much to only be doing this to me because I’m a Baron’s daughter?”

“Excuse me?”

Clarissa raised a brow at the statement, mildly taken back by the boldness of her accusation. She, herself, was not entirely sure what had just happened.

‘Hold up,’

Rebecca momentarily placed a hand on the bridge of her nose. Forget the fact that Lisa has just derailed the plot from the original novel script, Rebecca’s mind replayed the scene she had just witnessed in her head in disbelief.

‘You tripped.’

She had seen Lisa’s legs get entangled by themselves before she unfortunately fell, the blonde had eyes after all. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for everyone else around them.

The whispers began.

“Oh dear , apparently Lady Archibald pushed that new girl down.”

“Hasn’t she just been officialised as the Crown Prince’s fiancé at the recent Imperial Debutante ball?”

“Yes, and it’s clearly gotten to her head.”

How typical. 

Whether they were inside or outside a ballroom, saloon or café, it seems that some things never changed in high society. There would always be a few wolves in sheep’s clothing, hiding amongst the crowds with their thinly veiled smiles, ready to attack at any given opportunity.

“She thinks that just because she’s risen her status a little, she’s now better than us but we all know where all their Dukedom’s dirty wealth comes from.”

And there it was. 

“I guess the Archibald family has truly lost touch since they’ve started trading with those foreign barbarians.”

“Everything for profit these days.”

The main reason why they were jealous. 

The Archibald trade exchange, a daring and ambitious venture that had paid off for the Dukedom in the last decade - the only one of its kind that has allowed for the exchange of goods amongst foreign lands. And while the business has been quite profitable for the kingdom and exotic goods popular within society, there was always the tag of barbarism that came from associating with people of those lands. One that many people were more than happy to weaponize against Clarissa. 

“But to bully a new student, how unbecoming of her.”

While she could not say she was surprised by the sharp quipped comments, Rebecca was still stumped by the turn of events.

‘Wait, am I the only one who seems to have eyes here? And knows how to use them?’

“I think you should apologise to her, Lady Archibald.”

Her ears perked up as one of the young noble boys who helped Lisa get up approached Clarissa with a determined look in his eyes.

“Why?”

Clarissa challenged back, her eyes narrowing with equal determination.

“I did not do anything wrong.”

The young man flinched from the cold tone of her voice as he took a step back.

“But you tripped me on purpose,”

Lisa spoke up as her hands scrunched the skirt in her hands.

“Look at my sullied uniform now.”

The item had gathered a suspiciously large amount of dirt.

“Lady Archibald,”

It was one of her fellow disciplinary committee members now; there was a pleading tone in his voice as he called her, almost begging her to just give in. It was evident that the committee wanted nothing more but for this to pass. 

“I did not do anything.”

Clarissa folded her arms, refusing to give in despite the pressure that was now turned onto her.

“And I was really looking forward to my new life here in Capital,”

The red head started to cry now, tears streaming down her face as she turned away shamefully.

The action seemed to stir a commotion amongst the nobles witnessing the scene, many who looked on rather disapprovingly.

“It’s just one apology, and she can’t even do that.”

And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

It was as though a cord had snapped within Rebecca – perhaps it was her tolerance for bullshit.

“You tripped yourself!”

Before she could even stop herself, the blonde had jumped to her feet from her hiding spot as she attempted to step over the hedge that may have been a little too tall for her liking. She succumbed to simply rolling over it instead as she marched towards the scene before her, determined to get her final words in as she shouted.

“Over your own two feet.”

Never mind the fact that she had just pulled the attention of everyone in the courtyard to herself from her sudden entrance into the field.

‘Out of a hedge…’

“Did she just step out of a hedge bush ?”

The sticks and leaves that stuck to her frazzled hair and uniform did not go unmissed by gazing eyes.

“Lady Vanderwood,”

It was the disciplinary member who had tried to pressure Clarissa into apologising, the blind fool.

“You there,”

Rebecca barked, ignoring the fool as her gaze turned to a young bespectacled member of the disciplinary committee, who looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“You were standing between the two young ladies; did you ever see Lady Archibald move a leg or hand towards this young lady?”

“M-me?”

He spluttered, flabbergasted to be put on the spot.

Rebecca stared at him deadpanned.

“Yes, you. You’ve been standing right next to Lady Archibald this entire time, surely you must have seen something, unless you were sleeping on the job.”

“N-no, I did not see anything.”

The young man was practically squeaking at this point.

Lisa frowned as she spoke up.

“But I’m certain that something pushed me down.”

‘Yeah, gravity.’

Rebecca resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, she had to remain civil and professional here. She had a very public audience after all.

“Young lady, this is where you tripped.”

The blonde stopped at the scene of the ‘crime’. She drew a circle around it with her foot.

“Look at the distance between where you tripped and where Lady Clarissa is standing, does it logically make sense that she can stretch this far to either trip or push you down without anyone noticing her?”

Rebecca asked, gesturing in the air at the noticeable gap between them.

“Even the young gentlemen next to her didn’t see anything, and if anything, he’s the more logical choice to have tripped you with the length of his limbs and clothing freedom.”

You could practically see his soul leave out of his eyes.

“I swear that I did not trip you!”

Choosing to ignore the outburst behind her, Rebecca continued to speak as she turned to face Lisa.

“Therefore, the only logical choice was that you must have tripped over your own two feet, or that pebble.”

Lisa’s mouth parted open; the red head looked ready to refute her point but was cut off by a sudden thunderous shout that pulled the attention of all the entire vicinity.

“What is happening here?”

The Head Teacher approached; a frown dawned on her lips as she moved towards the crowd by the entrance that was attracting too much attention to be anything good.

“Nothing at all, Madame.”

It came like a unanimous shout. 

It was amusing to Rebecca how quickly everyone disappeared; Madame Therese Bull’s reputation as Celestial Academy’s disciplinary teacher certainly preceded her.

Glancing around her, it did not go unnoticed to her how quickly the heroine had fled as well.

‘Look at her running so quickly…’

“What are you wearing ?”

A dark shadow casted over the young blonde, she could practically feel the woman deep breathing down her neck.

‘Oh…’

Rebecca glanced down, nonchalantly.

“The school uniform?”

The frown in the aged woman’s face hardened in clear displeasure.

“Miss Vanderwood! Don’t get smart with me, young lady. You are wearing the wrong uniform.”

‘Ah…’

So, she was known. 

“I don’t believe I am, Madame. As you can clearly see (and by gods I hope you can with your glasses), the school’s insignia is clearly embroidered on my jacket pocket by magic, something that cannot be mimicked by outsiders who are not employed at this institution.”

From the corner of her eye, it did not go unnoticed to her that the Disciplinary Committee had also made themselves scarce (they ran too, and just in time for the morning bell). Clearly, Madame Bull was not a woman that they wanted to deal with either, despite being their commanding officer. 

It was time for her to do what she did best – read between the lines .

“Furthermore, if you continue to vehemently insist that I have done something wrong by wearing the ‘wrong uniform’, I would like to remind you of Rule 45 in the student handbook, in regards to school uniforms, that clearly states that ‘as long as the student is wearing a uniform from this institution’, which I am, it should not pose as an issue to the institute.”

Madame Bull’s lips thinned, the woman was losing patience.

“Yes, but you are wearing the boy’s uniform.”

“And that is an issue, how? If the boys at this institute wanted to, they could wear the girl’s uniform as well, if they so choose to do so.”

Rebecca exclaimed back.

“There is no rule preventing a student from wearing a uniform of the opposite gender at this institute, only to not alter it.”

The elder woman did not even try to fight back, instead, she simply hissed back a closing order for the defiant blonde.

“Report to Headmaster Clive immediately.”

“What for, Madame? You have no reason to send me because I have done nothing wrong.”

“Now!”

Rebecca let out a resigned sigh, it wouldn’t be the first time she was sent off to someone’s office.

“Suit yourself.”

The blonde shrugged as she followed after the enraged woman. 

“I might as well entertain myself whilst I’m there.”

She muttered under her breath.

“Her first day and she’s already making trouble,”

Bernard Johnson Clive, esteemed Principal of Celestial Academy could only shake his head in disapproval. The man took pride in his long standing career as an educator, and having done so, it was inevitable that he would encounter a few bad eggs here and there. Even in a remarkably prestigious academy like Celestial, there were bound to be a few to emerge from the bunch… but for them to be so defiant from the very first day, and without even making it to lunch time! – unbelievable.

“Children these days.”

The respectable man could only click his tongue as he listened to Madame Bull recount her encounter with the Vanderwood family’s infamous troublemaker. 

“I’ll see to it that she is rightfully punished, Madame.”

“Thank you, Headmaster Clive.”

The elderly woman was relieved as she departed, her heart put at ease knowing that justice would be served.

“You may enter now.” 

Bernard put on his most intimidating face, one that had easily sent shivers of fear down the spines of even the most nefarious students to ever walk these halls. He was a man who knew how to exude a presence of authority and terror, but the moment a hauntingly familiar blonde figure walked through his office doors… everything simply flew out of the window.

She looked older, more mature now. And while she was not currently dressed in the familiar robes that most Holy Temple disciples wore, there was no way that he wouldn’t remember her… Especially not after what happened six years ago and he could see from the way her blue orbs excitedly lit up that she recognised him too.

“Long time no see, Bernard!”

She was waving back at him cheerily, and then she started skipping. 

‘Dear God,’

She started skipping.

There was only so much terror a man needed in his life.

In all honesty, perhaps it was rather naïve of her to assume that the storyline would progress as normal following her unintentional meddling. But considering that two weeks had passed without any other further incidents and the fact that Lisa and Wilhelm had their fateful first encounter last week (where the blonde haired Prince had caught his heroine from falling in the library, a trait that she seemed to be contagious of at this point – perhaps the original author simply loved falling girls but Rebecca digressed ), who could blame her for believing so.

Nevertheless, it appears that the story has derailed, it must have. How else would it explain this?

“Lady Rebecca,”

In all her heroine glory, Lisa stood with her arms folded behind her back before her.

Rebecca glanced around the lunch room with a raised brow, confused by the teen’s sudden appearance. She lowered the spaghetti filled fork in her hand. 

“…er yes? Is there something that I may help you with, Lady Lisa?”

The blonde asked, uncertainly. 

Lisa smiled back sweetly.

“We both come from similar backgrounds, don’t we? Territories outside of Capital,”

“Yes?”

“Then I simply cannot understand why you would reduce yourself to being a follower of Lady Clarissa.”

‘Hold up,’

Rebecca stared back at her in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

“Has your family gone bankrupt? Is that why you’re following Lady Clarissa’s orders to cover up for her?”

Lisa persisted in her line of questioning, clearly not intending to slow down in the slightest.

“No.”

“I heard that you had a rough life before debuting, but please don’t go down such a terrible path again by bullying lesser nobles like me, a person whom you have never met before.”

Rebecca almost laughed at the audacity of the statement.

‘Lady… we’ve met before, back when you were just a hoe wielding, fly murdering farm girl.’  

The visage of farmer Lisa would be one she could never forget.

‘I still pray for that fly.’

Right, she was getting carried away with her thoughts now. She needed to steer the conversation back on track – the track being setting Lisa’s opinions straight.

“Lady Lisa, I believe that there may have been a misunderstanding here.”

Lisa cocked her head aside in confusion.

“What misunderstanding is there? I’ve asked around and everyone knows that you’re one of Lady Clarissa’s followers, you were seen at the Imperial Debutante ball together.”

‘Okay, this is getting ridiculous now.’

“A single conversation is not equivalent to absolute worship, Lady Lisa…”

Rebecca explained, plainly.

“But why else would you defend a cold lady like herself?”

Evidently, nothing was getting through to the red head’s thick skull.

 “Unless you’re the same as her.”

Rebecca paused for a moment, putting her fork down on the lunch table. 

“…the same as her,”

The blonde repeated slowly, her blue orbs narrowing as she met Lisa’s gaze head on. She did not like the underlying sound of that.

“What exactly are you implying, Lady Lisa?”

“Oh, you know, the same.”

“Same ?”

“Same.”

A ‘bully’.

No, a villain – or at least, the false image of a villain that Lisa seems to have conjured up from her vivid imagination and is determined to impose onto Clarissa, and now herself it seems.

It did not go unnoticed to Rebecca that their conversation appears to have garnered an audience within the cafeteria as all eyes seemed to rest on the pair, eager to hear her response.

She clicked her tongue before throwing her head back to laugh. 

Now, if there was one thing that Suzanne Prince had to admit that she was in her previous life, it was that she was petty. And she would not deny that it was definitely a stubborn trait that she carried with her through death and reincarnation – how would she explain this feeling?

“…Yes, you’re right.”

A surprised expression drew on Lisa’s face, evidently, she was not expecting that response at all.

“We are the same no-nonsense person, indeed.”

She declared more loudly now before rising from her seat as she proceeded to slam her hands on the table, etiquette be damned.

“I am a follower of Lady Clarissa, in fact, I’d go as far to say that I’m her number one fan.”

Life Update Meme: