“Where should we start?” Ghost asked.

I briefly mulled the question. “Start with his name. Is it real?”

“Yes, it is.”

I sighed softly. “Then is he a local?”

“A local?” Ghost looked puzzled before faintly grinning. “A local. Yes, from your point of view, Geharis Arnval is a local. In other words, a native of this universe.”

I accepted that with a nod. “He’s not normal, is he?”

“Indeed. You may have discerned by now that he is not entirely human.”

“Yeah, his aura is incomplete.” Remembering what his lifeforce looked like, I now wondered if I’d read it wrong. “Maybe not incomplete. More like it was very weak in some places while strong in others.”

“That would be a sound observation as his limbs are biomechanical.”

“Why?”

“Because Geharis Arnval was born with a rare genetic defect. He was born without fully formed arms or legs.”

My eyes widened sharply. “What?”

I already knew that Arnval’s limbs weren’t normal, and perhaps I subconsciously suspected he’d lost them in an accident or to disease. But hearing that he was born with that deficiency took me completely by surprise.

Seeing my reaction, Ghost gave me subtle nod as he looked down at me. “Because of this, he has used prosthetics almost his entire life, replacing them with newer models as he grew from childhood into manhood.”

“…that’s…so sad….” When Ghost chuckled at me, I sulked in response. “It’s not funny.”

“Are you feeling sympathy for your antagonist?”

“I’m not heartless, Ghost,” I answered in an offended tone.

“No, Princess, you are most assuredly not heartless.” Ghost looked like he wanted to say more but then seemed to reconsider. “Tell me, Princess. In your opinion, what stands out the most about him?”

“That he’s an asshole,” I replied bluntly.

Ghost sighed. “Allow me to rephrase that. When you were exchanging blows with Arnval, what caught your attention the most?”

I scowled faintly at him. “Why didn’t you ask that in the first place?”

“My bad, Princess.”

I considered his question, replaying the incident in my mind, remembering what it was that had caught me off guard, but not Mirai.

“His speed. He’s much faster than anyone I’ve fought until now.” At the wry look on Ghost’s face, I hurriedly added, “I know, I know. I’ve only fought the Gun Queen and that wasn’t hand to hand. But he appeared to move faster than a Gun Princess. Faster than a mechanical.” I smiled cautiously as I asked, “Does that make any sense?”

Ghost nodded. “It makes perfect sense. And you are indeed quite correct.”

I groaned weakly. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“Saying what?”

“Indeed.” I waved a hand about. “Indeed this. Indeed that. Indeed Princess.” I stopped waving. “Find another word to use.”

Ghost momentarily tapered his lips. “As you wish, Princess. You are undeniably correct.”

“Better,” I declared with a nod. “Go on.”

Again, he briefly tapered his lips. “Because Arnval has been using prosthetics since his days as a toddler in a pram, his mind has developed rather uniquely.”

“You mean he can keep up with the speed of his prosthetics.”

Ghost appeared pleasantly surprised. “Indeed.”

“Ghost!”

He pressed on. “As you surmised, his mind is able to utilize the speed of his prosthetics.”

“So he can overclock?”

“Apparently so. But his ability extends to his motor controls. You could say that his mind has developed an extremely streamlined process of operating his artificial limbs. However, I understand that it was also helped along by generous scientific research.”

“Scientific research? Someone experimented on Arnval?”

“Indeed—I mean, he was improved.”

“Improved? How? By whom? Was it the military?”

“No. It was the Telos Corporation. Geharis Arnval was serving as a security officer at the time. When his potential was discovered, a division of the Telos Corporation augmented his ability by using cybernetics to increase the efficiency between his cerebellum, spine, and biomechanical limbs.”

I frowned a little. “Why?”

“To see how far they could raise his abilities. To push the envelope, so to speak.”

My frown deepened. “And how did Arnval feel about being improved?”

“I do not know. You would have to ask him.”

I snorted loudly. “Yeah, I think I’ll take a rain check on that.”

“As you wish.”

Taking a deep breath, I released it slowly while pondering the next problem related to Geharis Arnval, but I ended up stalled at a crossroads on whether to mention it.

I was silent for so long that Ghost ultimately prompted me with a gentle, “Princess?”

Yet I dithered for a while longer before hesitantly asking, “Should I be worried about him?”

“Worried? In what manner?”

“He wants to fight me.”

Ghost slowly nodded down at me. “Yes, I gained that impression as well.”

“Well, you’d have to be blind not to notice it.” I paused for a second and looked down at my feet. “Mirai’s gut is telling me I’ll have to fight him sooner or later. But I don’t think I’m ready for him.”

“But you are considering facing Arnval in combat?”

“Like I said, I’d rather not. But I get the feeling I won’t have a choice.”

Some things in life can’t be avoided. For me, Arnval may very well be one of them. I wasn’t happy about the prospect of fighting him, however, he was like an exam that I had to sit through sooner or later, and the more I thought about it, the more aggravated I became.

Eventually I punched a fist into an open palm.

“If it’s a fight he wants, then he can bring it on.”

“You seem rather eager.”

I lowered my hands to my lap. “Is that how I sound to you?”

Ghost gave me a troubled smile. “I’d be lying if I said ‘no’.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m annoyed. I’m angry. But I’m not eager.”

He dropped his smile. “Are you certain of that, Princess?”

I was ready to retort off the cuff, but something held me back.

Was it the indistinct voice whispering from the recess of my mind?

Or the unfamiliar sensation swirling insidiously within my chest?

Either way, I didn’t reply until I’d properly searched my feelings.

No, I’m not eager to fight Arnval.

I was annoyed for giving Ghost the opposite impression, but I was certain that I didn’t want to fight Arnval. If anything, after examining my complicated feelings, I was convinced I would only face him because he was an obstacle that I had to surmount, but that in itself was out of character for me.

I swallowed a couple of times, clearing and loosening my throat. “I’ve always avoided confrontations as much as possible. I’ve always run away from a fight. I’d duck my head and ignore taunts and threats. But maybe being inside Mirai has released my true personality. Maybe I’m tired of running away. Maybe I just want to stand up for myself.” I looked steadily into Ghost’s eyes. “But I can tell you honestly that even if I seem eager to face Arnval, that’s not how I feel. But if he stands in my way, I don’t plan on going around him. I’m going to go through him.”

As the declaration left my lips, I was startled to notice that my wet hair falling around my face was raven dark.

What the—?

Reaching up, I fingered my long dark locks.

Why am I still in Mirai Mode?

Did this mean that I felt endangered? Was my subconscious warning me not to let my guard down while aboard the Sanreal Family’s Citadel? Or was it all this talk of Arnval that had kept her powered up?

Sensing that Ghost was watching me, I again looked into his eyes and found myself contemplating if he was merely an image projected into my mind or much more, so I did something I hadn’t done before while faintly surprised the idea had never occurred to me earlier.

I looked for his shadow…and I found it.

What? What the Hell?

Shock spread through me, catching my breath and locking my body rigid.

I remained that way even after Ghost abruptly looked off in the direction of the bedroom’s open doorway. “Princess, you have company.”

“Wh—what?” Distracted, it was the most I could utter because inwardly my thoughts were scattered to the four winds.

How can he have a shadow?

My eyes widened and I averted my gaze to the floor in a hurry.

Wait—it could be nothing more than part of the projection in my mind. Maybe it’s to add to his realism.

“Princess. Princess?”

My chest tightened in apprehension that bordered on fear as I considered a terrifying possibility.

What if I’m already boxed and this is all a simulation? How would I know the difference—?

“Isabel!”

“Y—yes?” I jerked stiffly and stared at Ghost while unable to hide my anxious feelings. “Wh—what? What is it?”

Ghost looked and sounded deeply worried. “Princess, are you feeling all right? If not—?”

I pushed myself off the bed, then stood up on trembling legs. “I’m fine.” Seeing that he didn’t look convinced, I hastily added, “Ghost, I’m fine—I’m fine. It’s just a lot to take in. Okay? I’m just finding it hard to keep up.”

It was possible that he believed me.

It was also possible that he didn’t.

After all, he was studying me with ongoing concern.

Either way, I wasn’t in a state to argue with him if he wasn’t convinced, so I was relieved when he eventually nodded as though accepting my answer.

“If you say so, Princess.”

Taking a couple of quick breaths, I recalled what he’d said earlier. “Ghost, who’s coming?”

He hesitated as though distracted before replying, “The head maid, Fatina, and her entourage are at the suite’s entrance.”

My gut tightened at mention of her name, and with a sudden sense of urgency, I struggled to bring my thoughts into order. Giving myself something to focus on, I checked that the robe’s ribbon was securely tying my bathrobe together. Then, after glancing in distaste at the bunny slippers I’d kicked away, I strode out of the bedroom as though I was fleeing it.

I hoped that Ghost would mistake my behavior as a knee jerk reaction to Fatina, but I wasn’t going to wager on it. Unlike most men, Ghost wasn’t oblivious and knew how to read the mood.

Wait—isn’t that the opposite of how girls think of guys in general?

Striding barefoot into the living area, I arrived a few moments before the troublesome maid stepped into the luxurious suite. Fatina smiled at sight of me in the bathrobe, but her eyes narrowed ever so faintly at my bare feet. Then she regarded my wet hair with displeasure.

“Now that simply won’t do,” she declared unhappily, and then snapped her fingers.

Within moments, a trio of animal eared maids entered the living room and spread out behind Fatina.

“Girls,” she announced. “We have work to do.”

I hastily took a step back. “Wait a moment. What the Hell do you mean by work?”

I could see all of them clearly within my extra wide field-of-vision, so I kept my eyes on the head maid as she replied, “Obviously, we need to do something about your appearance. To put it frankly, you look terrible. Don’t you know how to care for your hair?”

“No, I don’t,” I snapped back. “If it’s a problem I’ll just chop it off.”

Fatina stared at me aghast. “Are you serious?”

“You bet your ass I am!”

She palmed her forehead and sighed heavily. “We simply cannot have that.”

With a wave, she gestured for the maids to approach me. However, the three girls remained behind her.

Perplexed, Fatina looked back at them over a shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”

The maids shared frightened glances before shaking their heads in unison at her.

I realized the girls were afraid of me, and Fatina must have arrived at the same conclusion because she groaned in deep disappointment while slowly shaking her head at them. “Very well. Toilet duty for all three of you.”

The girls gaped briefly before breaking into relieved smiles.

“Thank you, Miss Fatina,” they cried out happily before escaping from the room.

I snorted as I watched them leave. “Good help is so hard to find these days, isn’t it?”

Folding her arms, Fatina cheerlessly murmured, “Never send a girl to do a woman’s job.”

I don’t know why, but the change in her mood made me feel unexpectedly guilty, but I hid it behind a smirk as I placed my hands on my hips. “So…what are you going to bribe me with this time?”

For a long while, Fatina did nothing more than stare at me with an increasingly melancholy look that made me feel progressively uncomfortable.

Eventually, I couldn’t endure it any longer and blurted out, “If you have something to say then say it.”

The sadness on her face deepened. “You are such a beautiful girl.”

I choked then stuttered, “Wh—what?”

“Do you not care for your appearance?”

Her question made my thoughts stumble then catch themselves. “Ah…it’s…it’s not that I don’t care—”

“Do you truly hate being a girl?”

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That question brought my thoughts to an unexpected stop.

I stared at Fatina blankly, unable to muster or dredge up an answer.

I even forgot to breathe, reminded to do so only when I autonomously swallowed the saliva building up in my mouth. But while the gears in my mind had been brought to a grinding, screeching halt, the question continued to bounce around the inside of my head.

Did I truly hate being a girl?

Slowly, as my mind resumed turning over, I began to ponder the question with greater clarity.

Did I hate being a girl?

The answer I eventually arrived at was that I didn’t have an answer.

I simply didn’t know because I hadn’t lived long enough to give the question proper consultation. I had spent the recent years of my life terrified to wake up and discover that I had become a girl. And now that it had happened, though not in the way I had imagined, I had been determined to return to my life as a human male, though it was impossible for me to assume my previous existence as Ronin Kassius. But even that was a fallacy since I had never lived as Ronin Kassius.

Mirai was not Ronin Kassius transformed into a girl.

Instead, only her memories belonged to Ronin Kassius, and that circled back to the fallacy that I was Ronin Kassius, something I continued to struggle with even after I’d decided to cut ties with my past – or rather, with the memories of my past – because it was a life that didn’t belong to me.

In many respects, I felt as though I was chasing my own shadow.

It was my own version of the liar’s paradox.

Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you get my meaning.

Any attempt to address the question – did I hate being a girl – was complicated by not having experienced life as a girl for longer than three days, and most of that time was spent trying to stay alive. Yet Fatina continued to wait in patient silence for an answer, and it was that silence and her sorrowful expression that ultimately drove me to reply in a weak, uncertain voice that quite frankly disappointed me.

“I’m not ready to be a girl….”

The pensive sadness Fatina wore faded into a thoughtful gaze. Her voice was unexpectedly gentle when she asked, “Why is that?”

I hesitated for a second, confused by the change in her while suspicious of her new approach. “Maybe because I refuse to believe this is my fate—that there’s no choice for me other than to live as a girl.”

“Really?” Now she looked openly curious. “I thought it was because you were afraid.”

My emotions darkened in an instant and I glared at her. “Afraid of what?”

Fatina stepped up to me.

She was shorter than me despite wearing shoes, and yet I felt as though I was looking up at her. That didn’t bother me nearly as much as having her step into my personal space.

This woman—what is she thinking?

Facing me from a foot or so away, Fatina searched my face and then met my dark stare with a quiet, penetrating gaze that complemented her calm voice. “You’re afraid that you might enjoy being a girl.”

My glare hardened for a heartbeat, but Fatina’s gaze pierced through it.

“Am I wrong?” she asked.

“That’s bullshit,” I protested but it sounded feeble to me.

“Prove me wrong.” At that, Fatina offered me the bundle of clothes she’d been holding onto all this time. “Open yourself up to life as Isabel val Sanreal, do it for a week, and then stand before me and tell me that I’m wrong.”

“I don’t need a week. I can tell you right now—”

“No,” she interjected calmly. “Give me your answer after you’ve experienced life as Isabel for a week or maybe even a month. Not before then. Not before you’ve given her existence an opportunity to live.”

She was telling me what I’d already realized on my own.

I needed to give Isabel a chance.

Yet I’d stubbornly refused to concede or consider the notion. Why? Because I was afraid. I may not have ever desired to be a girl, but I had lived in terror of becoming one and it was that fear – coupled with my unrealistic desire to return to my life as Ronin Kassius – that essentially held me back.

However, I wasn’t going to admit to Fatina that she’d hit the nail on the head.

Instead, I chose to detour around the question. “Why? Why is it so important to everyone that I give up on my past?”

Fatina silently gazed at me for a long, long while before asking me in a gentle, tender tone that sounded almost motherly, or at least how I would have expected a mother to sound when comforting her daughter.

“Isabel, don’t you wish to find happiness?”

Her voice and words were like a warm breeze passing through me, brushing against my heart and making it tremble. Yet my throat and chest grew even tighter, and I found myself unable to reply as I watched her smile at me with kindness of the like I hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.

“Isabel, you don’t have to discard your past. I’m certainly not telling you to do that. Your past makes you the person you are now. Some people will tell you that you only need to look forward but that isn’t true. People that forget or deny their past—people that choose not to learn from its lessons—fail to grow. They make the same mistakes over and over, believing in the lie that history never repeats. That the next time things will be better. But that isn’t true. In order for it to be better, something has to change.” She paused for a quiet breath and then said, “Isabel, you’ve changed. You’re not the person you were before. But don’t you want to know about the person you could become?”

I felt helpless before her.

Fatina had stepped through the wall I’d consciously and subconsciously labored to build up around me – a wall that had held back Ghost, Straus, and Erina. She had done so because something inside me, and something I sensed in her aura, convinced me that her sentiments toward me were sincerely without malice. Because of this, I saw myself standing on the edge of a precipice while facing Fatina across the bottomless crevasse.

What would happen if I stepped toward her?

Would I fall and be lost?

Or would I cross the abyss and be saved?

And if not saved, would I nonetheless find a measure of inner peace on the other side? As such, would it be the first step in accepting my new life as Isabel val Sanreal?

I trembled before the abyss, unable to step forward yet unable to step away either.

Fatina said nothing and continued to regard me warmly.

There was literally no trace of the young woman who had bribed me earlier so that I would take a bubble bath. And the melancholy she’d expressed was nothing more than a memory.

Why?

My hands clenched into fists.

Why do you look at me that way?

My fingernails dug into my palms.

Why? You don’t know me. I’m nothing to you. We’re not family or friends. We’re nothing to each other?

I closed my eyes.

So why? Why do you look at me that way? Why? When not even my mother ever looked at me—?

I gasped softly and opened my eyes.

That’s right. My mother never looked at me the way she looked at Erina.

I relaxed my fingers, and the pain in my palms faded quickly but now I experienced a painful emptiness within my chest.

Why am I remembering this now? No…why had I forgotten that about my mother?

Erina had always been her favorite child. It was something that I had come to understand even at a young age, and perhaps I had chosen to box those memories because they were painful to me. Perhaps, I had even acclimated myself to overlook the occasions when my mother bestowed her affections upon Erina while ignoring me. And as my mother denied me, I chose to deny my mother’s existence. In short, I began to isolate her from my thoughts and feelings at an early age.

Did I cry when she and my father left Erina and I behind? I can’t remember. What did I feel back then? Did I feel anything at all? Was I glad that she was gone?

Blinking slowly, my focus gradually returned to the present and I found myself meeting Fatina’s eyes.

She had continued to watch me kindly, and so I ran my gaze over the orange aura of her lifeforce as it glowed strongly around her. But I was thinking of my mother, pondering what I would see in her aura if I were to chance upon it with Mirai’s ability. Then I realized I was being foolish. I wasn’t Ronin Kassius and Mirai had no mother. And yet, while my mind rationalized in one direction, my heart pined in another, so it was difficult for me not to feel something when I thought of her.

Fatina had said there was no need for me to discard my past, but I wondered if my declaration to cut myself off was premature, somewhat of a kneejerk reaction to learning that there was no going back. I had also voiced my intention to move forward, but as my argument with Ghost in the bathroom had demonstrated, I hadn’t moved forward at all.

Hence, was my past holding me back?

If so, then how could I expect to move forward if I didn’t shed it?

This brought me back full circle to my unwillingness to consider a life as Isabel val Sanreal because I was holding onto the hope that I could go back.

“Nothing’s changed,” I whispered.

Fatina’s eyes showed veiled confusion. “Isabel?”

“I turn it over and over in my head, everything that’s happened, how I feel, my circumstances, and I come back to the same place. And because of that nothing changes and I’m stuck.”

Fatina briefly pressed her lips into a thin line as she studied me with thoughtful eyes. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re right. I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of being a girl. Afraid of living as one. I spent so much time afraid of turning into a girl, that now I can’t deal with it. I don’t want to be a girl, but I’m afraid that the longer I spend as Isabel, the less I will want to go back—even though I know I can’t go back. But it all feels like a paradox. I’m afraid of being a girl, but the truth is that this body has always been a girl. It’s only that she has the memories of Ronin Kassius. I have the memories of being a boy, the mind of a boy, and yet I was never a boy. And I want to go back to being to a boy, but again, I was never a boy so it’s not possible.”

“Then what will you do?”

I shrugged, and a feeling of utter helplessness washed through me. My voice broke into a hoarse whisper. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do….”

Then my throat and chest grew even tighter and I couldn’t say anything else, and a few moments later I was crying tears of despair before a stranger. And before I knew it, that stranger was holding onto me tightly, and I heard her whisper into my ear.

“I’m sorry, Isabel. I’m so sorry.”

What did she have to be sorry about? Bribing me? I should have laughed off her apology, but I couldn’t.

Instead, I found myself reaching out to her, and embracing her as she embraced me.

I held onto her because without her I didn’t believe my legs could support my weight.

But I also clung to this stranger because I needed the kindness and understanding she offered me.

The warmth radiating from her body flowed into me, warming me, and it comforted my heart.

Gradually my tears ebbed, and I began to feel a little more at ease.

I hadn’t resolved my situation, and I was far from at peace with myself, but I was no longer in anguish.

I have no idea how long I cried, or for how long she held me, but it was long enough for my tears to soak the shoulder of her maid uniform.

“Sorry,” I whispered and though I tried to pull away, Fatina continued to embrace me, and I realized I lacked the strength of will to break free. And part of me wanted to continue drawing comfort from her presence.

When Fatina drew back she continued holding onto me as she studied me from up close.

“Feeling better?” she asked me gently.

After probing my emotions for a short while, I gave her a shallow nod. “Yes….”

Fatina smiled up at me, then retreated a few more centimeters. “That’s good.”

I studied the caring, motherly expression on her face, once again unable to reconcile the young woman before me with the Fatina who’d cornered me not too long ago.

Had it all been an act? Was this her true personality? Or was this the act?

I realized that I didn’t want to find out. I was afraid to know who was the real Fatina.

But why show me this side of hers now?

I needed an answer to that questions, and so I asked, “Why? Why are you being kind to me?”

Fatina’s eyes widened and a moment later she smiled at me with intense regret. “Isabel, I’m sorry for the way I treated you.”

My mouth fell open slowly, and I exhaled softly in surprise.

At my reaction, Fatina laughed remorsefully. “The truth is, I expected you to be a difficult child, and I thought I knew how to deal with you. But I was wrong.”

“I’m not difficult?”

She laughed softly with a little less regret. “Oh, you are indeed difficult. Make no mistake, you are a handful. But I approached things from the wrong angle. Despite knowing what I knew of you, I didn’t try to understand you. I guess I’m out of practice.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted to her.

Fatina held back for a moment before answering me. “Arnval spoke the truth. I know this may sound surprising, however, I know what you’ve been through, Isabel.”

“How do you know about me? Why do you know about me?”

“Because Master Sanreal asked me to help him with you.”

“Why would he do that?”

Fatina smiled sadly. “Because he doesn’t know how to deal with you.”

Initially, I was thrown off by this revelation. Then I thought of Clarisol. I knew that Clarisol val Sanreal was his daughter, but I didn’t know what kind of relationship she and her father had. However, rather than mention Clarisol, I chose not to reveal what I did know.

When Fatina spoke again she didn’t sound as though she’d noticed my troubled thoughts. Then again, she may have assumed I was having difficulties digesting her answer, and that wasn’t far from the truth.

“I have served Master Sanreal for a long, long time. And in that time, he has grown to trust me, and in some respects, he has come to depend on me. Thus, he asked me to help him with you, and therefore entrusted me with the knowledge of who you are. Because of this, I learnt of how much you’d suffered, but I only had an inkling of the intense turmoil within you. I didn’t know how much you were hurting. I didn’t realize you were putting up a brave front. Had I known, had I realized it sooner, I would have stepped in. I would have requested to see you, to meet you, and to listen to you. Instead, I made a poor choice that I deeply regret. I did nothing, and then I treated you wrongly.”

“Fatina….”

I couldn’t help thinking how differently the situation would have turned out had Fatina greeted me at the park rather than Erina – rather than Arnval.

Shaking her head slowly, Fatina continued softly. “What was done to you wasn’t fair. And since then, you haven’t been treated fairly either. I should have treated you properly. I should have shown you the kindness and respect you deserve—the kindness, understanding, and respect that you’ve been denied. For failing to do so, I’m sincerely sorry, Isabel. I’m so sorry. I should have seen the signs. I should have known better. Yet I missed them.” She bowed her head. “Please, please forgive me, Isabel….”

I struggled to close my mouth, then swallowed with difficulty as pained feelings welled up to flood my chest and choke my throat.

This young woman was nothing to me, and I was nothing to her. But what I felt now, perhaps radiated by her aura, was a genuine kindness that was painful to bear.

This is the first time I’ve felt this from someone since I woke up as Mirai.

Then I realized I was wrong. I had felt kindness before but back then I’d also felt sadness, sorrow, and frustration fueled by helplessness. Back then I was intent on surviving and not so much on the people around me until it was too late.

Mat, I’m sorry for failing you. I promised Clarisol I would protect you and Shirohime, and yet I failed you all.

Since returning to Ar Telica, I had been caught up in one unexpected event after another, thus I’d spent little time thinking of Mat and the platinum haired beauty. I had no idea how I would react when I saw them again. But now wasn’t the time to ruminate over what our reunion would be like. I needed to focus on what was in front of me, and I needed to regain control over my composure.

After breathing in deeply a handful of times, I felt my suffocating emotions retreat a little, and my throat and chest loosened up. But I wasn’t able to say anything, and thus I found myself listening to Fatina as she spoke in a subdued voice.

“Isabel, I know this may sound as though I’m prodding you down a certain path, but I believe you are fighting too hard.”

I gave her a questioning look.

Seeing it, Fatina continued gently, yet firmly. “You’re trying to find answers where there may be none. Conversely, you’re trying to find answers that may only come with time. That is why I suggested that you spend a week, or a month, living as Isabel. To find the answers. To face your fear. But in all honesty, I say this because I just want you to live.”

I shook my head slowly, relieved I’d recovered enough of my voice to say, “But it’s not that simple for me.”

“No, it isn’t,” she agreed. “But I believe you may find the answers you seek, and you may find your path only by accumulating new experiences. I’m not saying change your goal. But for now, why not simply live.”

“But I’m not just Isabel. I’m also Mirai. And I’m a Gun Princess.”

The young maid nodded. “Yes, you are.”

“So my life isn’t exactly normal because I’m not a normal girl.”

“Yes, I know.” She nodded again. “But right now, you’re living in a closed system. If nothing changes, you’ll continue running in circles. You need new experiences, Isabel. Only then can you really be certain of what you want. And even if you can’t go back, maybe you’ll find another path. Maybe not even as Isabel val Sanreal. Maybe as someone else.”

I understood what she was telling me, and I realized that I would eventually have to take that leap of faith. It may not lead me down the path I believed that I desired. It may not even lead me down the path that I feared. I could find myself on a very different road. But I needed to take that first step.

There is a saying, ‘the grass is greener on the other side’.

For me, maybe it was greener on Isabel’s side of the gender divide.

Fatina pressed on. “However, as the saying goes, all good things in time.” She paused before adding, “And it’s best to deal with one thing at a time.” With that, she released me, took a step back, then once again offered me the bundle she carried. “Your clothes, Isabel.”

One thing at a time, I repeated inwardly as I glanced down at the clothes in her hands.

The outfit consisted of midnight blue denim hipsters, underwear, a white blouse, and white sneakers with red trimmings.

“Pants?” I asked.

Offering me a gentle nod, Fatina said, “I figured it may be too early for a dress.” Then she half smiled. “Or would you prefer a maid’s dress? I have just the right headband for you. Or we could try elf ears.”

Shaking my head weakly, I replied, “No. No, thank you.”

Holding back a sigh, I was both grateful and reluctant to take the bundle from her. I would have preferred more normal pants since hipsters accentuated Mirai’s feminine figure, but as Fatina had surmised, they were preferable to a dress. Although, I wondered what Sanreal would think of me if he saw me in a dress. Would that influence his thinking toward me? Would it be to my benefit? In other words, would it make a good impression on him and thus earn me some leniency or respect?

Trying not to frown, I asked Fatina. “When do I meet Phelan Sanreal?”

Her smile faded a little and she sounded slightly guarded. “Are you ready to meet him?”

I gauged my state of mine for a short while, then shook my head. “No, I can’t say that I am. But it’s not like I can choose otherwise. I was brought here for various reasons. Meeting him is probably one of them.”

“That is true. But I’m certain he can wait until you are ready for him.”

While worth considering, I felt it would only delay the inevitable.

Facing Sanreal, someone whom I could only imagine in my head, was something I couldn’t avoid or postpone indefinitely.

Studying the clothes in my hands, I ended up weakly shrugging in resignation. “That’s the problem. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready…so I’d rather get it over with.”

Fatina folded her hands over her midriff. “Then let’s go see him as soon as you are dressed.”

Huh?

Lifting my gaze, I met her eyes with uncertainty and apprehension. “Now?”

“When you’re dressed.” She stepped closer and touched Mirai’s dark hair. “You have such lovely hair, so why don’t we do something about it first?”

Unexpectedly, rather than lead me to the bedroom or bathroom, she waited patiently for me decide. However, as the seconds ticked by and I failed to move, Fatina nodded faintly and offered me an understanding smile.

“Well then. I’ll wait for you outside while you get dressed, Isabel. If you change your mind, let me know.”

After gently squeezing my arms, Fatina turned toward the suite’s hallway.

However, I called out to her after she’d taken a few steps. “Wait, please.”

She stopped and half turned to look back at me. “Isabel?”

Earlier, Ghost had assumed I had two pertinent questions to ask, but in truth there was one more.

“My sister—I mean, Doctor Kassius.” I took a quick breath. “How is she?”

Fatina regarded me with concern but there was also curiosity mixed in with it. “Isabel, would you like to visit your sister?”

Would I?

The question forced me to yet again regard my feelings for Erina.

I had concern for her that I couldn’t deny, but I also held such animosity and resentment toward her such that I chose what was possibly the least painful – the least confrontational – course of action.

I haltingly shook my head. “No, just…just tell me how she’s doing, please.”

Fatina turned bodily around to face me. “Doctor Kassius has regained consciousness, and she is doing quite well.” After a pause, she again asked, “Would you like to see her? I’m certain Master Sanreal would understand if you wish to visit her before meeting with him.”

Having heard that she was recovering well, I considered her offer a second time.

Phelan Sanreal was a more pressing matter, and though I wasn’t ready to meet him, my complicated sentiments toward my former sister made me less motivated to visit her. However, this time when I answered Fatina, I did so with more certainty than earlier.

“No, I’ll see her later.”

“Are you sure?” Fatina asked.

I’d assumed I’d made myself abundantly clear, so being questioned yet again was slightly annoying, thus, I chose to answer her question with a question. “Is she in good hands?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Then I’m sure.”

A look of sadness flittered across Fatina’s face, but she quickly accepted my decision with a smile. “As you wish, Isabel.”

As though closing the door on the matter – at least for now – Fatina once again turned away.

Yet I called out to her, stopping her once more.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I told her. “I think…I think I would like you to help me with my hair.”

She tipped her head slightly at me as if questioning me.

Why the change of heart? And was I sure of my decision?

I nodded weakly in reply and shrugged with forced casualness. “A girl has to look her best…before her father…right?”

A distant look settled upon her face, and for a long while, she appeared to be looking through me.

I couldn’t fathom what she was thinking, but the nature of her reaction troubled me.

For a Simulacrum, Fatina seemed awfully real.

Awfully human.

It made me ponder if she was someone like me – someone who’s mind had been imprinted into that body’s brain.

I found myself silently asking her, who are you?

Of course, there was no reply.

Heartbeats later, Fatina’s gaze returned to the present – to the here and now – and she smiled warmly at me, though with a dash of sympathy.

Once again turning around to bodily face me, she gestured earnestly at the vanity table.

“Shall we?” she asked.