I didn't die. Fortunately, it was in fact just a bad cold. A week and a half after it started and was back on my feet. A little wobbly, but standing. Standing well enough that I successfully managed to deliver both the fruit basket and the opera ticket to Viktor, and I didn't even faint this time. The look in his eyes said he was expecting it the entire time.

I chose to ignore this.

The months until the opera passed somehow much more quickly than the week until the ball had, even with multiple boring tea parties and other social features I'd had to attend. Maybe it was because I had less anxiousness this time? Maybe the cold had left my sense of time all out of wack still. I don't know. But when i wasn't busy being distracted with Ophelia's tiresome duties, I focused on selecting an appropriate dress for the opera.

And by 'appropriate' I mean 'as dazzling as possible'. I'm a Weideman. If I have to put up with all the politicking because of it, I can also splurge because of it.

A bright, flattering gown of a stunning shade of gold is made, complete with embroidery on the hem and train and lace and cuffs.

Personally, I'm in love just looking at the dress. It fits perfectly, too. And is far, far fancier than anything I wore back in the old world.

"You look like a princess!" Nessa tells me, clapping her hands.

"She looks like a goddess."

The words come from my mother, her voice filled with pride. "Or a queen. There's not a single flaw."

Her smile is approving and delighted. It's always lovely to see her pleased, but it's doubly so when I'm doing something she wants. She brushes a hand against my sleeve, humming happily to herself as she inspects the quality and workmanship of the dress. "Even if no one else will pay attention, your father will be most pleased to see you wear such a fine dress tonight. Ah. Do be careful not to catch the eye of one of those petty nobles who'll try to set their sights on you."

Her eyes flick to Nessa briefly and then back to me, and there's an unspoken request in there. "Make sure to maintain your distance and don't give them the opportunity to talk to you too much. Of course, if they should persist...let them know they are beneath your consideration. A Weideman can marry the emperor himself if she desires."

"Mother," I say, rolling my eyes. "I promise, I don't want to get married to any of them."

Because I'm very in love with a commoner. Who is wonderful and handsome.

"Good!" She kisses my head in approval and steps back, checking to see if anything is out of place before she leads us back down the hall, ready to go to the opera.

Nessa stands a little bit off to the side, hands clasped in front of her. She smiles at us as we pass. She looks so happy.

I wave as we're off. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck! I'm sure everything will go just fine!" Nessa says encouragingly.

I walk to the carriage with Mother and Father. The opera is hosted in a large building at the edge of the city, a mansion that belongs to the wealthy family who throws it every year. They have several extravagant performances each year - some fancy parties, the opera, a ballet, etc. - and they're quite well known for it.

"Behave," Mother reminds me, giving me one final glance to make sure everything's in order as the carriage rolls up.

"Mother. I always behave."

Father snorts in amusement and holds his hand up. "Just don't get in trouble, alright?"

"You both wound me. I'm not some reckless wild girl." I duck into the carriage, stifling a laugh, as he raises his brow at me. I think I've been caught.

They wait for me to get into the carriage. But I get in alone.

I feel like a kid on prom night, sitting in the backseat by myself as I'm driven to the event. In the end, my parents don't join me. They will take their own carriage, so that they can leave when they wish to without worry of collecting their wild daughter.

As I stare at my reflection in the small mirror on the wall of the carriage, my eyes are sparkling with excitement and nervousness. My makeup is done to perfection, and my hair is up in a complex arrangement, with delicate pearls threaded through. It took at least two hours to do this, and a small army of maids to make this happen.

My dress is perfectly fitted.

It's like I'm wearing a sculpture that a team of seamstresses and artists built specifically to my body.

My hair's full of ribbons and pins and pearl accessories. My earrings are ornate, and match my hair accessories.

There's a slight sense of vertigo. This isn't me, and yet it is. I'm used to the idea, by now, that I'm Ophelia, not Adelaide. But this is the most made up I've ever been - this opera a far more important event than random naming day balls - I've never seen such a stark difference between Ophelia and Adelaide as I do looking into the mirror now.

I'm...beautiful.

Rich.

Powerful.

And...I'm about to see the man I've loved across two lifetimes.

When the carriage stops, I swallow and force my nerves aside, my expression hardening into one of aloof amusement, as I've seen my mother's face when she wants to present a certain image of herself.

I look every bit the beautiful, refined, noble daughter of a great merchant and scholar family.

A footman opens the door, offering his hand.

I accept it and step out of the carriage.

I take a deep breath as I gaze up at the imposing front of the house. It's bigger and taller than most of the ones on our estate, with elaborate windows and a pillared front entrance, and...fabric and bunting covering the front to lend a festive atmosphere. I walk up the steps, the servants nodding as they offer greetings to me, and I nod to them as I stride confidently inside.

It's an elegant affair, as all the family events for the rich are. Chandeliers glitter overhead, and the sounds of the guests are hushed in reverence for the upcoming performance.

The space is massive. There's a beautiful crystal staircase in the center of the room. It sweeps gracefully down to the main floor, the white stone reflecting the light from above.

My mother and father are mingling with the other nobility, as one of the richest families in the city, no doubt wheeling and dealing. My eyes scan the crowd, seeking out a familiar face - the one I came to see, to spend time with.

I catch sight of Viktor instantly. Of course I do. Playing a game of Where's Waldo with Viktor would be terribly unfair because I'd always spot him immediately.

He's by himself, as usual, off to the side in the room, as if he's not quite a part of it at all. I quickly and skillfully cut through the crowd to get to him, only to stop dead as my eyes skim his appearance. He's wearing a formal suit of black and green. His hair is carefully groomed. He doesn't see me yet.

I take a deep breath, nervously touching my hair, straightening my dress, lifting my chin, and step forward, closer to him.

His gaze - likely sweeping the area looking for me - freezes as soon as it fixes upon me. His lips part in silence. For a long moment he seems to simply...stare?

This is making me panic. Is there something in my hair? On my face?

The worst thought is, does he not like this? Does he think this is...tacky?

Did he think I was attractive normally, but in an over the top gown like this, he thinks I'm tasteless?

...no.

It's...

He's frozen. He's just staring. I slowly become aware of this, and feel a rush of relief and affection and amusement, the anxiety fleeing in a snap.

He seems to realize he's staring, and hurriedly turns his face to the side. I can see the tint of color in his cheeks as he swallows and composes himself. "O...Ophelia. Y-you look...e-elegant. Ahem. That is. Elegant indeed."

A pleased flush crosses my own cheeks, and I let out a quiet giggle. I hope I'm not making it too obvious how relieved and charmed I am. "Thank you, Viktor. It was made for the occasion, in particular for you."

A slow flush of heat seems to creep up his cheeks. "Is...is that so?"

He seems momentarily lost for words, his hand gripping his elbow, trying to avoid meeting my eyes. I don't mind. It's rare I can see him so flustered. He usually manages to compose himself much more rapidly. "Yes. I would very much like to invite you to take a stroll with me. As I'm sure you've noticed, there's a lovely garden. If the weather cooperates we'll be able to watch the stars a while before the performance."

I know he likes to watch the stars.

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This time, instead of glancing away or stuttering or saying nothing at all, he gives a quiet nod and offers me a shy smile. "That sounds...very nice. I would enjoy that. Perhaps after we get some food? There's a table of appetizers and wine set up in the other room."

I loop my arm around his. "Lead the way, good sir. I would love to accompany you."

His smile is so warm that my heart flutters.

We head out to the main ballroom. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my entire life. Viktor is talking to me and holding onto my arm and...! I am so thrilled I can barely stand it.

Everything is beautiful and perfect and wonderful, a fairy-tale.

As we approach the tables, the noise around us grows louder.

"-appears the opera isn't the only spectacle of the night-"

"Those two? Really?"

"She must have truly no self-respect, letting a cursed person like him near her."

In one fluid motion, I slip from Viktor's arm and approach the table. I grasp one of the glasses of wine on the table, and with an artful yank...send the red liquid spraying directly across the two gossiping nobles. In my head, it looks quite fancy, like an artist at work.

In reality it all probably happened too quickly to look like anything at all.

I touch my free hand to my cheek and give an airy giggle. "Oh~! Oh my I seem to have gotten too excited! Terribly clumsy of me! How embarrassing, I should have remembered how dangerous what one simple wave of my hand can do."

They stare at me in shock, blinking in confusion as the wine drips down their clothes. They look like drowned cats.

My lips curl up.

I'm the villainess, after all.

"Easy to forget, isn't it? How powerful a Weideman is? With one wave of a hand I can ruin your gowns, and with one simple word and it can mean your business is gone overnight." I lift the glass again and stare at the last remnants of the drink inside and hum lightly. "If I weren't a Weideman...well. I'd certainly think twice before speaking carelessly. Just imagine what it might feel like if I ever did take offense to gossip..."

The two of them blanch, bow hastily in my direction and murmur excuses and apologies.

I manage to maintain that serene, dignified smile.

But truthfully, I'm trembling with rage still over their words about my Viktor. My Viktor is amazing and wonderful and is going to be a famous doctor someday. No one can possibly ever see him as lesser, and anyone who dares to, can die in a ditch for all I care.

His fingers lightly brush my arm, finally. As I turn to meet his gaze, he tilts his head. "Ophelia..."

My bloodlust simmers, but I still can't help mumbling, "They have no idea how wonderful you are..."

He dips his head and clears his throat, smiling gently as he takes a step back. "You...that is...thank you. For defending my honor."

There's a moment of hesitation before his lips press against the back of my hand in a chaste kiss. I feel like my head's going to float off my neck, and my smile is so wide I could break my face.

I can feel the eyes of others on my back, but I'm too happy to care. Viktor...just...

I sigh a happy sigh as he finally lets go, a teasing smile on his lips. "Come along. Let's leave before you get any more inspired ideas for spilling drinks on other partygoers."

"Hmph. I don't know what you mean."

"I'm sure." The sarcasm in his voice is barely audible, but there.

I loop my arm into his once more as he leads me over to a couch. The attendants are already on hand to offer warm, moist towels to clean up the mess. "I'm very glad to see you, Viktor."

"I'm very glad to see you as well, Ophelia. Although you seem to have a lot more trouble behaving in polite society than you claim you do." His lips twist into an impish grin.

I blush and stick my tongue out. "Hmph. I won't apologize. It was entirely worth it."

My cheeks are red and my pulse is racing, but I'm happy. So, so, so happy. I smile to myself, biting my lip a moment, before speaking. "I...wanted to thank you. For taking care of me when I was sick. It was...the kindest thing anyone's ever done for me. And. I really appreciate it."

"That was...the right thing to do. Anyone would have done the same." The smile on his lips is a little wry, as if he doesn't fully believe this.

I want to protest. To tell him that- when I was Adelaide-...

But he wouldn't understand that. No one will.

And it doesn't matter anyway. Adelaide is dead, gone. No one cared when she was alive, no one cared when she died, and back home I'm sure no one cares that I-...

"Ophelia? Are you alright?" Viktor asks softly.

I shake myself a little, taking a deep breath, and then lean on his arm. "I'm fine. Thank you." I duck my head, struggling to suppress the way my heart swells so much it makes me want to cry. "...You have...no idea...how much you helped me. But I appreciate it. A-anyway."

He glances away, seemingly unsure how to react.

"Do you...perhaps...would you perhaps wish to take a stroll in the gardens with me? I've decided don't have the stomach for anything." I say, glancing out the window to the garden beyond.

"I-I would be delighted," he stammers, giving me an uncertain, almost hopeful smile.

I return his smile with one of my own.

Our fingers interlock.

It is perfect.

In this moment, nothing could ever be more perfect.

The cool air washes over me as I step out into the night.

Viktor's arm loops with mine and he tilts his head a little, eyes examining my face. "It's not a terrible evening for walking."

I lean into his touch a little, soaking up the moment, memorizing every detail, so I can recall it in my memories. "Not at all. A few clouds, but nothing so bad. And even if it rains, we will have plenty of time to take shelter in the gazebo."

I guide him in that direction, slipping down the path that winds through the trees. I point up at the stars visible through the canopy. "They are particularly pretty tonight."

Viktor looks up, following the path of my finger as we continue to walk. "...indeed they are."

A shiver of anticipation rushes down my spine, and my gaze falls down from the stars to examine the dark gazebo in front of me. It is beautifully constructed of white stone, with graceful curves and spirals and lines that swirl like a frozen whirlpool, with open sides and a beautiful domed roof. I can picture myself spending evenings here with him. Sitting on a bench with a book and tea and his company, as we bask in the glow of lanterns and watch the stars together.

He ducks under a low branch, a few leaves drifting down into his hair, and I find myself transfixed by the sight. It is utterly adorable, and charming and-

The path shifts and changes beneath me.

I yelp as I start to pitch forward, stumbling on my heel before crashing against Viktor's chest.

He wraps his arms around me to steady me.

For a few moments we stand like that, in each other's embrace, and I find myself drowning in the scent and feel of him.

Maybe it's self defense, or maybe it's self destruction, but - in my dazed state, I can't help but ruin the intimate moment by blurting out, "I'm her. Your-your secret admirer."

I planned to tell him it a little more artfully, explain I wrote the letter he loved, gave him the medical textbook and - and that I'm not an obsessive stalker but-...I...panicked. I guess. I think. I...I'm not sure why I blurted it out so stupidly. It's not like I'm still sick, so I should be thinking clearly enough to know this is a delicate, important matter that could ruin everything if handled poorly.

...He's stiff and still against me.

"...oh?" His voice is soft and disbelieving.

He stares at me for a long, tense moment, as I cling to him in sheer terror and guilt, waiting for the rejection. For his hands to push me away, for anger, for irritation and frustration, for -

For...a small, barely visible smile, as his fingertips move to gently trace along my jawline, and his eyes drop to my lips, studying my features as if to commit them to memory.

"...it is nice to finally meet you...my mysterious admirer," he breathes.

I swallow thickly. I was...not expecting him to be so calm or so accepting or so...nice about it. I didn't really plan what I'd say after the reveal. My plans...didn't make it that far.

"...Yes, it is," I manage.

He brushes a hand against my hair.

I shut my eyes and give in to the temptation to lean into his touch, my voice coming out as a bare whisper. "I...really missed you, Viktor."

There's a gentle smile in his voice as he speaks. "And I, you."

He guides me over to the gazebo and sits down on a nearby bench, looking out over the flowers. I settle beside him, content to let him hold my hand, watching as his fingers trail along mine, exploring, tracing, searching, before lacing with mine.

I...I did it. I've told him. Now...I can send him all the letters I want as Ophelia. I can't hide behind anonymity if I get too....excited. But I don't have to hide and pretend I'm not trying to win his attention, either. So...this..this is good. It's definitely good, right?

I lean my cheek on his shoulder. "What did...what did you like most?"

"...hmm?"

I tilt my head up a little, and - realizing how close our faces are, how close his lips are, and that I can see the glimmer in his eyes - I promptly freeze.

He's smiling slightly, amused by my antics.

I hurriedly try to clarify and salvage the situation, in case he reads my intentions the wrong way. "Um. T-the...I was just wondering, since I didn't really know what I could do for you and I just wanted to please you...if there was anything...um...anything that..."

His brows are furrowed in confusion. I can't blame him, because even I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Or why. I'm an idiot. A failure of an admirer, in the end.

"...made me...happy...?" His voice is so quiet and soft and hesitant it almost hurts to hear. "The letters...they made me very happy."

There's a vulnerability in his voice, barely disguised, that really does hurt to hear. I know why. Of course I do. It's why I sent the letters. The world has rejected and hated him for no reason. He's been alone for so long, forging onward even with the world rejecting him. I...I'm sure. Heartfelt letters of appreciation would have made him happier than any of the gifts attached.

I hesitate a moment, before stealing a glance up at him. "...I meant...everything in the letters. I meant the things they say."

His head dips ever so slightly.

The tears he's hiding are very obvious, and it breaks my heart to see his attempt at feigning nonchalance as he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket. I let him pretend and hide it, instead taking a moment to dig through my voluminous gown. "...I have something for you."

I produce the gift I brought and set it in his hand, watching as he unfolds the ribbon, the box, and finds the handheld telescope hidden inside. He studies it a few moments before letting out a soft, wondering sound, turning it over in his hands as if admiring every aspect of it. His eyes are lit with a warmth I rarely see. "...a gift...for me?"

"I-it's...well the shopkeeper said you could look at the stars and moon a little better with this..." I shift awkwardly, reaching up to rub the back of my head. "...I thought, given you liked stargazing so much, you'd appreciate something that would make it a little easier to view things more closely."

He lifts his head to look up at the sky again.

For a few moments, he's silent.

I'm a little nervous, hoping I didn't cross the line between thoughtful and creepy, that this wasn't too much, or the wrong gift. I don't want him to think I'm weird and obsessive, I just -

The next thing I know there are strong arms wrapped around me. Viktor hugs me tightly to his chest, burying his face in my neck, and there's a shakiness in his voice I don't understand. "Ophelia...th-thank you."

"Viktor?"

"...i-it's nothing." His fingers grip my shoulders a little more firmly, and then, after a pause, he lifts his head to meet my eyes again. There's an earnest sincerity in his gaze I can't bring myself to look away from. "This is...very dear to me, Ophelia. Thank you very much. I...I cannot remember the last time someone gave me a present simply to indulge my interests."

"...that's silly. Your interests are very fascinating. They deserve indulging."

His lips curl into a stronger smile than I've seen from him, and his fingers gently caress my cheek. "If you keep saying things like that, I may never leave your side. I'll start to believe I've fallen prey to your charm and persuasiveness."

I feel dizzy. My face hurts from smiling. Am I blushing? I don't know what to say. Or think. O-or...

My fingertips gently trace his cheek. "I...would not mind being more of a presence in your life, if you wished it."

I would not mind at all.

In fact, I would prefer it.

His fingers find my chin, tilting my head back so he can meet my eyes, a teasing, gentle smile on his lips. "Perhaps we can..."

He pauses, hesitating as his eyes wander down to my lips, and he abruptly ducks his head away.

He clears his throat and gently lays the hand holding the telescope down in his lap. "I am a bit anxious to see if I can spot any star clusters in the sky."

The magic of the moment is broken, and I pout a little, crossing my arms.

His gentle laughter makes it hard to sulk.

We look at the stars, pointing them out and trading information about the stories and legends, as is becoming a tradition of ours. He is well informed on the subject, and can recite any legend I give him within moments. I listen to his smooth voice as he points out different clusters and constellations.

As the music begins to play, he gets to his feet and offers me his hand. "Shall we go, Ophelia? The opera is starting."

I accept his hand, feeling my cheeks flush with excitement and joy. "Yes."

Arm in arm, we begin to head back to the opera house.

My heart is already singing.