So…missing models, huh?
We were both in the dressing room, swarmed by stylists trying to see what would fit us. I wanted to ask Antoinette what on planet earth that was about.
Okay, what’s the point in asking? You know why she sabotaged the other models or whatever. Game programming. They got too close to Remi. Duh.
Sure, a second voice in my head shot back, but what you really want to know is what that decision felt like to her.
Arms folded, I peeked at her in the mirror the stylists had parked me in front of. As always, Antoinette exuded confidence, like she was meant to be working here after all. How had I not just grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded, “What is going on with you when you behave like a crazy woman!! Do you see floaty dialogue boxes too?!”
And how had she not grabbed me to shake out an answer to…to, well, everything weird that happened around me?
I said, totally casual, as two stylists muttered to each other about which way to style my hair, “Okay, so, was your plan to get those girls out, or to get the both of us in?”
The difference was subtle, but I knew it would matter to her. Antoinette met my eye in her own mirror. Though she shrugged as if she didn’t care about the answer to my question, there was a tiny smile creeping onto her face. “Hmm, not the second option. At least, not until the moment before I offered it.”
“Why?”
“Why did I push Louis into that silly contest with his sisters?” She points at her own stylist, who’s debating between two pairs of shoes. “The ones with silver accents, obviously.”
I furrowed my brow. It occurred to me that the main character had a character arc too.
Antoinette added, “Besides. It’s just perfect for the boys. They can all keep their eyes on us easily this way.”
“Ha-ha.” The stylist was gesturing impatiently at me. I fumbled a little, unsure what she wanted, but at least she was very efficient in shunting me into a confusing mass of black fabric. I blew some tulle out of my face and asked, “Wait, do you mean that like, flirtatiously, or…?”
“They’ve appointed themselves to be our personal guard tonight, haven’t you noticed? They won’t leave us alone.”
“What? Why? Is it because of–” I wisely shut myself up. “...Gotcha.”
I guess I was so used to spending my every day with someone at my side that I hadn’t noticed. In my real life, I’d been a pretty solitary person, going weeks sometimes without seeing a friend in person, especially if classes were out. But here? I pretty much never made a point of being alone besides the obvious and when I was messing with the auto-filling journal. The love interests and Antoinette were my guides and my missions at first, but now they were my friends.
~*~
Sure enough, Antoinette wasn’t wrong: Etienne leapt back into the backstage dressing rooms the second he got the OK from the staff. (The OK that we weren’t naked, at least; I’m sure that was the only reason they’d deny a prince from going anywhere.) Louis tagged along.
“You match,” Louis said, taking us in. Kind of a simple assessment coming from the artist, but he seemed sort of shocked for some reason. We were in shimmery black floor-length gowns, the only options in the warehouse that could bridge the complimentary-colour gap between my purple-black hair and Antoinette’s flaming red. “Oh, wow.”
“I wanted us to walk together. I thought it’d be fun,” Antoinette said. News to me!
Louis lifted an eyebrow at her.
“What, do you think I can’t ask to do something for fun?”
The Fontaines made their money on beautiful, high-quality, but safely-designed shoes, accessories, and gowns. They made their name on flashy, elaborate oddities. And on this, I was glad for the anachronisms. We’d ended up in dresses that were somewhat Gothic, all layers of black lace and frothy inky tulle, whalebone corsets that were more deranged than anything I’d been exposed to in our comfy posture-pleasing daywear… Like this, with my hair pulled up high in a bun pinned with quartz sticks and danging crystal shards (and gelled to my scalp with a substance I did not want to consider the time-accuracy of), I felt like I was out for the day in cosplay. Performing.
Etienne said, “Remi will be very pleased. He was almost unconvinced they’d let you walk, considering the mix-up.”
“How fortunate, then, that we have a prince on our side,” Antoinette said.
Etienne opened his mouth but hesitated too long–the manager or whoever I was now beholden to called from the dark warren of backstage, “All models, line up in order of presentation, please! We’re about to start.”
I shooed Louis and Etienne. “Get a good seat, okay! Somewhere you can catch me if I fall off the stage.”
As if startled, Etienne managed, “You both look beautiful,” and then he and Louis were ducking out the door.
Antoinette and I were stared at–rightfully–by the other models as we found our spots. I felt like a little girl in dance class, ready to trot out on stage for a routine…except for the fact that we were being singled out as the women who were complimented by the prince.
Once we were all in order, the manager waved us through the dark backstage, her eyes on our clothes and hair as sharp as a hawk’s. She occasionally fixed a shrugging sleeve or a stray curl on a passing model, faster than they could register. Antoinette and I were last, maybe because of that model “mix-up.”
Model after model got their moment on stage. I peeked through the heavy velvet curtains. It wasn’t so different from a real world runway show! Up and down the catwalk they strutted, towering above the sea of spectators. Instead of neat little folding-chair rows like I’d seen online, the guests were in semi-circles of comfy armchairs, surrounding little gold tables with their drinks and complimentary gifts.
I found our gang. Minus Sylvain (typical). Remi was leaning over to whisper something in Etienne’s ear and caught my eye. He mouthed, “Don’t trip,” and I gave him a scowl back.
I dropped the curtain. It got suddenly real dark backstage. I chided myself, laughing internally: The guys felt the need to look out for you two, and here you are, where they can’t even see you in the dark! Where you can’t see yourself!
I thought again of that Gagnon person in Altolia who knew who I was. He could have recognised our carriage and knew where we were returning to–and that didn’t matter at all if he was the one who sabotaged us in the first place.
The line shifted. We were next!
Antoinette took hold of my upper arm. “Wait one moment.”
I obediently did. She leaned in very close and rubbed the corner of my bottom lip with her thumb. I felt the slight pinch of her long manicure and blushed.
“Your lipstick smudged. It’s black, so it’ll really show. You can bite your lip all you like afterwards, alright?” She said it lightly. And didn’t straighten back up. My world became very soft around the edges, teasing me with the prospect of her glossy hair, her soft skin.
Like I needed more to think about right now. But I sure thought anyways. And so I blurted, “Have you—have you thought more, like you said? About what happened?”
“I have.” She straightened. “I made a decision tonight, actually.”
“You did?”
The manager was waving us over. She was stressed enough to be a little sharp with Antoinette Delphine of all people—maybe after the show, she’d realize her mistake. Either way, I blinked, followed orders, and then, we were on stage.
What the hell are you doing again, Chloe?
More importantly, what did Antoinette mean, she made a decision about our kiss?!
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Who knows, just walk!
Thank god there were no stage lights to blind me, simply a glittering chandelier—unfortunately, that meant I could see everyone around me, and I took in all the staring faces before I realized that I’d never seen a model look at anything besides a fixed point on the wall, like they were completely uncaring that they had an audience. Either way, I was going, I was walking, unconsciously in step with Antoinette, the two of us moving in a sea of black.
And she, obviously, pulled all the energy in the room to herself. As she deserved! To be the best villainess, to be the best love rival, Antoinette Delphine could never stumble when she was putting on her act. What would it be like, I’d wondered many times while writing stories about her, to be someone who found it so easy to pretend to be sure?
She had people in the crowd to prove wrong if they’d hoped to shake her, to chip her armour, after all. Somehow, it was all the times that she’d exposed her genuine frustrations and weaknesses to me that made her seem all the more confident.
While I was constructing metaphors in my mind, though, I’d started to fall behind.
High heels and strutting were not in my usual vocab. Neither was this: Antoinette swept a hand behind her without looking back, I grabbed it, and she fell in step with me instead. I’d never seen a model smile, but I couldn’t help it.
At the end of the stage, she swept into a dramatic curtsey, layers of elegant black and spidery flowers swirling around her in a tempest. I did the same. For once, we were perfectly in sync.
Until I tried to turn back. Antoinette subtly caught me by the hip, so we were both facing the audience when she spoke.
“Thank you for attending the Fontaine show. I wonder if my presence comes as a surprise to any of you. To him, certainly,” she said, pointing out a man who was standing aside, clearly a part of the press with his notebook ready. “I hope you’ll make note of how easy I’m making this for you. Look, there are already people writing. Go on, don’t stop on my account. I have something to say. And you’ll be the first to announce it to the rest of the kingdom.”
~*~
What.
The.
Fffff…
I was staring openly at Remi and Antoinette in their post-show press tour. Her hand on his arm. Their sides locked together. Their coy smiles matching, their answers neat as they accepted people’s personal congratulations. Me, Etienne, Louis, and Sylvain were all sitting in those comfy armchairs together.
I fished around for something to say to break our awkward silence and my simmering emotions. I tried, chin on my hands, elbows on my knees, “Okay, I don’t know if I was just overestimating our friendship, but I feel like we should’ve been told first. Right?”
Louis said, “Technically their parents should’ve known first. But I saw Mme Fontaine’s reaction. She had no clue.”
“Was her reaction good or bad?”
“Let’s just say I think she’s already starting to design the wedding dress.”
“Did they go on any dates? Did you guys notice? I didn’t. Weird, right? Or is that not a thing here? And who said wedding, huh? Aren’t we skipping a step?”
Sylvain said, “He’s too irresponsible for her. As if he could inherit that company…he’s hardly prepared to handle his own family’s.”
“See, totally—!”
Etienne sighed. “Let’s not cast judgment.”
I was pouting. I stopped myself. You’re being stupid.
She’d said she decided what to do about our kiss. And this was her decision. To pick Remi. Okay. Sure. Fine. Like, that made sense, what did I think I was in? A yuri?
“Chloe.” Etienne dropped his voice, casting his gaze around for his usual crowd of hanger-ons and people waiting to talk to him. “Ideally, she’s supposed to have both parents’ permission because of all the implications of joining powerful families like them.”
“I guess Antoinette’s never been one to obey the rules…”
“You’re sure she never meant to tell you before tonight?”
‘I made a decision tonight, actually.’ “I’m sure!”
Etienne hummed softly. “I think she chose tonight strategically.”
Louis leaned in. “Oh! She’s cut off any discussion about the accident in Altolia!”
Sylvain nodded. “Or at least buried it deeper beneath the headlines…”
I brightened. “So it’s all a PR thing? Like, for the newspapers?”
We all watched Remi and Antoinette move on to the next fawning Fontaine family member eager to give their blessings.
“One thing bothers me with this,” Sylvain said, tucking a strand of black hair behind his ear. “Antoinette may scheme to get attention at these sorts of events, but it’s mainly through chaos. A courtship announcement? It’s a far cry from pushing a duke’s daughters into a lake.” He gave Louis a pointed look. “Maybe she truly means it.”
Louis said, “They do spend time together without us. Who knows what happened. Not like either of them wear their heart on their sleeves.”
I sighed. Out of the four, Remi made the most sense for Antoinette right now. Etienne obviously frustrated her. She treated Louis like a little brother so far. And Sylvain was useless to me, plus he seemed eager enough to push Antoinette away all on his own. Remi was definitely closest to her, though they seemed to express all their affection through competition.
Etienne’s theory about the papers made total sense. She was obviously so terrified about the news of the poisoning and Altolia getting any further than it had. I didn’t want to believe in a true courtship, and Etienne was giving me a perfect out.
But I would have to believe it,
I would have to support it with all my heart, everything I had.
That’s why you’re here. From day one, you were here to protect her, and you’re actually on the way to succeeding! Why are you being so selfish?
You didn’t actually think that she’d choose you…?
Remi whispered something in her ear as they were left alone. He was practically kissing her cheek as he did so.
I narrowed my eyes.
I would have to ship it.
~*~
The snowstorm thankfully chilled out by the time we were all ready to go home. Maybe inspired by the last time we were at a party, Louis convinced me to abscond with a bottle of the good champagne, and we all piled into a carriage together. We were shivering and disheveled, but thankfully our hair wasn’t frozen to our scalps like on the way in to the show.
I couldn’t tell if Remi and Antoinette had turned down the act now that we were alone—we were all crammed together, so she was practically in his lap anyways. There’d been some drama late in the night between some donor and someone else’s famous cousin or something I couldn’t parse, so the guys were having fun laughing about it, monopolizing the conversation. Typical dudes, they didn’t even bring up the whole courting thing!
After about three thousand years, we got to the Academy. We all tumbled from the carriage. I fell behind; my feet were killing me after the high heels and my sulking was weighing me down. Antoinette looked back at me.
Then everything froze.
What do you have to say now, Marie?!
Instead of dialogue, I was faced with a message I’d never seen before.
image [https://64.media.tumblr.com/10e8781d62759c2b637a6e3c89358690/208f073be5c34adb-89/s2048x3072/575bf1dd0cc2dc81313adcf0ad4ff36cbe98a4fb.jpg]
image [https://64.media.tumblr.com/4b520e575ea2b1b9a2721b5d6c6ab4a8/208f073be5c34adb-b0/s540x810/23d69bc89d29e527e0ae58c7f9d0a45a5856c46e.jpg]
The words blurred. Checkpoints? Save? Error?
It hit me—I’d been confused at the date Remi gave me for the show. I’d sworn it had already passed when Antoinette, Louis, Etienne, and I were at the Chapelles’. After all, I didn’t have this game memorized for nothing. These events were exclusive—you got one pick, and that was it.
I hadn’t needed to wait for dialogue prompts or icons on a mini-map to try to double-dip on events. I just walked right into it. Here were the consequences.
I raced through my memories of those nights. Did I have to choose which was more valuable, like I was trying to pick which sweater to toss from my overstuffed closet?
Those nights…
So much had happened, especially that night at the Chapelles. So much had happened between those nights.
But I could only think of two things, clashing in my head like symbols:
Antoinette and I kissed.
Antoinette announced she and Remi were courting.
image [https://64.media.tumblr.com/1ade999d6121ab2a82d471f5a44fd9ec/208f073be5c34adb-35/s2048x3072/aa46ecd6b48d74eaa1f7077bb95efba1272a0f68.jpg]
If I proceeded, I was on the sure path to succeed at my goal. My whole reason for being here, for staying somehow sane in this new world. It was totally by accident, but I’d done it, right? It would be easy from here on out to keep them together until the end of the potion competition and the climax!
…But that kiss.
If I jumped back to the Chapelles, I could get ahead of her dumb plan tonight. I could ask her to do something with me that would distract her ex-friends and the public and the papers. I would beg her to do anything to fix her fears of her father learning about what happened.
I knew now what she was scared of. I knew now what lengths she’d go to in order to protect herself. So I could keep our kiss, and stop her from—
Our kiss.
It was silly and thoughtless and…
image [https://64.media.tumblr.com/837c3f11135352affa2d7619f95f19cd/208f073be5c34adb-78/s2048x3072/db2cebe0de8fa2b35f330db55d7c9006f2469bc4.jpg]
It was nothing.
I knew that.
I crushed my eyes shut and let the counter run down.
image [https://64.media.tumblr.com/df6f64c9f0c04926a6acf3c590c72d3d/208f073be5c34adb-e6/s2048x3072/28f331228cd1519da6b08cd4ed1c5ac759657f6b.jpg]
Time shuddered back into proper order. I was staring at my friend’s backs, floating on the snowy garden path, as they walked off, talking and laughing.
Antoinette was still looking at me. She stuttered out of the time-freeze, and seemed to just barely catch her step.
“Chloe,” she called. “Keep up with us, alright?”