It had only been a few hours after I had been sentenced to life in a dungeon. Now, I was declared a saintess. It was true, of course. According to Divine Heart, Catalina Santos was the true saintess of House Santos.

It didn’t take long for the king to insist on the investigation of the claims made by the strange old man (which I later learned was named Rufus). I was once again transported by carriage ride. It was daytime now, so I could see the details of the carriage perfectly. The carriage itself was as white as ivory, yet it was accented by some gold detailing on the rims of the wheels and the handles of the door. The gold detailing expanded to decorate the rims of the frames of both the windows and door. The inside had some plush seats, covered in a deep blue velvet, which was plush against my bottom. When we reached the Church, I could not help but stare in awe. It had large winding towers, all adorned with stained glass windows adorned with various scenes. It had a gothic feel, with a large stained-glass window at the center of it all. It displayed the image of a tall, regal lady, her hands clasped together in prayer.

I was quickly ushered inside and granted an audience with the high priest. He was tall, as tall as Duke Santos, yet he had a much more welcoming presence. His hair was a dusty blond and his eyes were a pale blue. He wore a long, white cloak, with embroidered crosses on the sleeves. They seemed to be close in age and appearance; they shared similar facial features, and olive skin. He stared at me in awe for a moment, before clearing his throat.

“Yes, this is her. I can feel her soul- it is not like any other soul I’ve felt before,” he said proudly, walking over to me and grabbing my hands in his.

I stared at him, my eyes wide as I was at a loss for words.

He let go my hands, turning to the king.

“This is the true saintess. Her soul is pure,” he confirmed, looking over his shoulder to spare me a glance.

“What about Carla? You told us she was the real saintess-” Duke Santos blurted, his eyes narrowed in my direction.

His lips thinned for a moment. “I must have been wrong, then. Carla may be pious, but she has yet to perform a holy act,” the high priest replied, turning to face the Duke.

“How can you be so sure that she will?” He seethed, eyes narrowed in my direction.

Duke Santos turned the king, who seemed to be watching the event unfold with a pensive expression.

“We can perform a trial. If she really is the saintess, mustn't she be able to cure the ill?” The king pondered aloud, turning to the high priest.

He nodded.

“I suppose so. Rufus,” he called, turning to the old man.

“Please go bring in Mrs. Cooper,” with his request, Rufus burst out of the room, running past the double doors.

It wasn’t long before he was back, bringing in by the hands a cute old lady. She looked ancient, her face so wrinkly it started to droop. She was frail, leaning heavily on Rufus’s arm, her cane sticking out as she tried to feel around.

“Mrs. Cooper, please step forward,” the high priest called, looking at the old lady.

She slowly let go of Rufus’s hand, picking up her cane, moving it around to feel her surroundings and taking a step forward.

“Mrs. Cooper, how long have you been blind for now?” He asked, turning to face the old woman.

“I’ve been blind for 15 years now, High Priest,” she replied, her voice hoarse and weak,

He nodded, turning to face the king and duke.

“Those words came out of her mouth. Let it be known that there has been no tampering in the events you will witness today,” he said confidently, now turning to me.

He tilted his head towards the woman, giving me the go ahead to perform the miracle.

I stepped forward, looking at the woman more intently. She had short silver hair, and light brown eyes shadowed by a gray fog. It was clear she had cataracts. The problem was, I did not know how to fix it.

Catalina Santos possessed great divine power. The book said she was blessed by the gods themselves. I did not, however, know how to access it. I had to do something. This miracle depended on the fate of my whole story. If I fail, I will live in the dungeons forever. Although Catalina performed it with ease, I am not sure if I will be able to pull it off.

I stared at the woman for a moment, before clasping my hands togethers and closing my eyes.

Dear divine deity of this universe, whoever you are, I beg of you to help me. Please bless this kind old woman with vision again.

I opened my eyes, and slowly looked up. The woman stared back at me blankly. My stomach dropped.

“I can see again!” she exclaimed, moving her head about wildly as she took in the scene.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips, a small smile being formed.

“No, this can’t be!” Duke Santos immediately exclaimed, he shook the old lady wildly.

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“You are a liar!” He yelled at her, his spit landing all over her. The high priest quickly pulled him away, saving the poor old lady. She frowned as she stared at Duke Santos.

“It is a shame that one of the first things I see is your face,” she replied, her voice irritated.

“This is completely fabricated! It must be a set up! Your majesty, can’t you see-”

The king quickly put a finger up to the Duke’s lips, effectively shushing him. He removed his finger, now turning to my side.

“Lumina has found its saintess!” He exclaimed, grabbing my hands and raising it.

“We will hold a grand banquet in your honor, let it be celebrated by the entire nation,” he continued, a wolfish grin on his face.

Duke Santos was taken back to Camelot Castle to be judged. Almost immediately, he confessed that he was aware that Catalina was the true saintess all along. He had her out of wedlock to an unknown witch doctor in a southern province, and did not want to reveal her because it would bring to light his sin of adultery. He had rushed to conceive another child to cover it up, and claimed that Carla was the holy priestess instead. The king opted to strip him of his title and banned House Santos from attending the banquet.

Once that was settled, preparations began. Tailors from all over the land came to visit me to make a dress worthy of the occasion.

“Do you have any suggestions on how you would like your dress, my lady?” One of the tailors asked, looking at me curiously.

“Whatever you think is best,” I replied, looking down at the various sketches sprawled upon the table.

They held up various sheets of fabrics to my skin, conferring amongst themselves over which suited me best. This process had gone on for a couple of hours, before one of them finally showed me the final sketch.

“It’s perfect,” I ceded with a small nod.

Come dusk, the dress was ready for me. Myrtle helped me in it, and tightened its corset for me.

The dress was white, the corset was decorated with embroidered roses and crosses. It had a sweetheart neckline, with poofy sleeves. It was long, and went all the way down to the length of the floor. The petticoat I wore underneath made the dress look nice and plump.

“You look gorgeous, my lady,” Myrtle said simply, holding up a mirror to my face. It was just now I had noticed my reflection.

I had long, pink hair; as pink strawberry milk, eyes blue as the open skies. My skin was porcelain, and my frame was dangerously slim, likely due to malnourishment. Myrtle had powdered my cheeks a soft pink and my lips painted to match. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a porcelain doll staring back at me in the reflection.

“Thank you, Myrtle,” I said with a smile.

She nodded, before turning to me.

“Are you ready?” She asked, her hand grasping the doorknob.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She led me into the hallway, my heels clacking against the marble.

I knew exactly what was going to happen tonight. I was going to meet her.

As we continued to walk, loud ballroom music could be heard as the playing of piano and the strumming of a violin could be heard in the distance. We stopped in front of a set of grand double doors, Myrtle stepping aside as she let me walk towards them. I inhaled deeply before opening them.

The doors hid a large ballroom, full of the marble columns sprinkled around the castle. It had a small balcony, overlooking the entire party, which was in full swing. Large amounts of people walked about, all wearing grand dresses and updos. Some danced, some ate, most gossiped, however, all of that came to a halt as the king cleared his throat.

“Let us introduce the most revered lady of Lumina, our Saintess Catalina,” The king called out, raising his glass of wine towards me.

Everyone followed, raising their wines as I walked down the stairs. They were carpeted with red velvet, concealing the clack of my heel. With each step I took, all the eyes in the room followed. My breath caught in my throat, one wrong move, and it would all come tumbling down.

I reached the bottom of the steps, taking place next to King George. Arthur was to his left, glancing at me curiously.

“To Catalina!” He exclaimed, bringing the glass to his lips.

“To Catalina!” The room echoed back.

And with that, the party followed. I stuck in that spot next to the king, until he left me to go wander about the party.

“You can enjoy yourself, you know. The banquet is in your honor,” Arthur stated simply, turning to look at me.

How can I enjoy this party knowing I’m not the real Catalina? How did she?

In the book, she was able to go about and meet all the attendants, happy to talk to people after being trapped in isolation all her life. I cannot do that. I am terrified. One wrong word, and they will figure out I do not belong. Sure, they might excuse it to me being raised in isolation and never experiencing the true world. But, what if I slip up and bring something up about Angie instead of Catalina? What if I say something too modern, or out of pocket and send me back to the dungeon?

“I do not know anyone here,” I answered honestly, staring at the crowd.

“You know me.”

I know his name already, but he has yet to introduce himself to Catalina.

“I do?”

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if stunned by the idea of someone not knowing his name.

“I am Prince Arthur Lancelot of Lumina, pleasure to meet you, Lady Catalina,” he introduced,

grabbing my hand and bringing it up to his lips.

“It is nice to finally know your name, Prince Arthur,” I replied with a smile.

“Call me Arthur,” he said simply, nodding at me before leaving me stranded on the steps, walking into the crowd, leaving me alone on the steps.

Just when I had started to like him.

I looked about the floor, sighing as I realized my fate. I guess I’ll be by myself tonight. Or so I thought. I suddenly feel myself move forward, feet going down the steps. I put all my energy into staying still, but my feet advance as if I am on a treadmill that I am unable to stop.

No. How do I stop this? I can’t go down there.

Almost as if on cue, my feet come to a stop. I descended the carpeted steps and had reached the marble dance floor. I did not get to have my peace for long, as a chill ran down my spine, feeling as though I jumped into a pool during a bleak winter.

I glance down, seeing the left side of my white dress is now tinted blood red. Someone had spilled wine on it. I raise my head to look for the culprit.She had dark black locks that hung down to her waist, and eyes red as rubies. She wore an elegant burgundy dress that was tailored to perfection. She stared at me with a devilish grin, letting me know it wasn’t an accident.

Ah. So I have met you, Alexandra Montfort.