She couldn’t just keep standing around and doing nothing, as by her estimates, it was nearly sundown. There was really only one option on where to go, and it was to follow where Illnyea went earlier, which meant entering a mansion that the Thornewood mercantile family called home. The mansion could easily host a gathering of a hundred people and likely could have half that spend the night comfortably.

There was a large cobblestone courtyard in the front, darker stone arranged in a swirling spiral pattern that would honestly be interesting to look at if it wasn’t nearly night time. She ignored it…

Her footsteps momentarily paused with a clack against cobblestone as she considered her own thoughts.

If she really was forced into Priscilla’s role, then she ought to begin thinking of herself as Priscilla, shouldn’t she. It would be weird to change her thoughts and self-identity so suddenly, but she simply would have to try and adapt best she could because she had no other option.

Priscilla (and wow did it feel weird to think of herself as such) took a deep breath in and began walking towards the large pair of oak doors with as much confidence as she could muster. The doors had something carved into them but she couldn’t quite tell what it was in the dark, so Priscilla ignored her instinct to take in the beauty and opened the heavy doors.

The hopes that Priscilla could slip in unnoticed were dashed as the doors closed behind her, the darkness was lit up by a man holding a candle stick. He was tall but thin, built like bamboo, and had a full head of gray dappled hair. He was dressed in dark gray pants and overcoat that stood out sharply against his slightly ruffled white button-up. If she had to guess purely on outfit alone, this man was a butler of sorts for the mansion.

“Miss Thornewood,” the probable butler said, his bushy eyebrows rising high above his blue eyes, “was there something that you needed? You did miss dinner.”

Priscilla opened her mouth to ask to be led to her room and instead her stomach growled loudly, the sound slightly echoing in the large foyer. She felt her face turn a probably bright and unattractive red that clashed with her hair.

“I, uh.” She cleared her throat. “Dinner would be nice if the cook hasn't closed down the kitchen yet.”

The butler blinked once at her before recomposing himself.

“The kitchen is still open,” he said, “so I can go fetch you a meal. If you will please wait at the dining room table, I’ll have it there shortly.”

Luckily, the butler gestured towards another pair of large doors when he mentioned the dining room so Priscilla knew where to go and wouldn’t have to pick and pray she got it right. The table was long, ostentatiously long in her humble opinion, and she sat down near the end. There was a chandelier in this room with a few candles lit, so she wasn’t sitting in the dark which was nice.

She tapped her fingers against the table, and was momentarily surprised at the harsh clack of nails against wood. Priscilla’s body had long nails, something that the new Priscilla knew was going to change as soon as possible. Long nails just got in the way of everything, from forming a fist to embroidery.

But Priscilla couldn’t deny that there was some appeal in the sound of her nails falling against the wood like a wave. Well, she’d enjoy the nails while she found herself some sort of nail file or clipper.

Before her thoughts could drift too far, the doors opened once more and the butler was there, a metal tray full of food in his hands.

“Thank you,” Priscilla said as he drew close enough she could smell it, “it looks delicious.”

The butler looked momentarily confused as he placed the tray in front of her.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Thornewood?”

She froze in the midst of reaching for a spoon, realizing that basic politeness for her may be miles ahead of whatever the original may have done. But Priscilla hardened her resolve as she wrapped her fingers around the spoon. She was in this body now, and she wouldn’t let herself be dictated by others' expectations.

Convincing this butler she had changed for good would be a good first step as any.

“I am, thank you for asking,” Priscilla said, turning towards the butler, “I’ve just had a trying day where I contemplated my existence and wondered if my life is even worth living.”

His mouth fell slightly open, eyebrows furrowing, which Priscilla decided to take as a good sign and push ahead.

She let her gaze fall, and put a self-deprecating smile on her face. “I realized that there was so much I’ve taken for granted and the way I’ve been acting is… unacceptable as it’s only left me alone and unhappy.”

“But you’re not alone, miss,” the butler said haltingly, as if he expected to be reprimanded.

Priscilla let out a soft chuckle, glancing down the long, empty table.

“You know, if that was really true,” she said, leaning on one palm, “I think that any number of people could have sought me out to let me know dinner was happening and not a single person did – until you of course, which I really do appreciate.”

The butler seemed frozen into stillness by her words, some emotion she couldn’t identify flitting over his face. He didn’t say anything, so Priscilla decided to look away and try a bite of a bright yellow soup.

It was everything the smell had promised and then some. Perfectly creamy and smooth, she recognized the flavor of butternut squash as the warmth of the soup chased away the last of the chill in her bones from her encounter with the god. Priscilla grabbed a piece of buttered bread to dip into the soup and that was probably the best decision she’d made all day.

Her peripheral vision clued her into the butler finally regaining his composure as he bowed his head.

“You’re welcome, and…” He swallowed as he lifted his head, face creased with worry. “I hope that you have a restful evening. You may leave the dishware on the table when you’re done and I will come by later to collect it.”

And before Priscilla could get another word in edgewise, the butler had turned sharply on his heel and walked out of the room.

She blinked after him before deciding she was far hungrier than she was curious and dug into the rest of the meal. There was a small salad with nuts and a small red berry whose taste reminded Priscilla of a cranberry in taste but the texture was much more similar to a strawberry. Whatever it was, it went well with the cheese and vinegar based sauce.

Priscilla finished up her meal and leaned back, staring up at the vaulted ceiling as she contemplated what to do next. Unfortunately, she knew very little about the layout of this building as it didn’t actually show up that much in the narrative because Illnyea left it behind rather early into the story.

She knew that theoretically Priscilla had a room in this mansion, but all Priscilla had to work with was the hope that it was upstairs, just like Illnyea’s was.

With a sigh, Priscilla pushed herself to her feet and braved the next unknown dark corridor, as the butler had unhelpfully taken his candlestick with him when he left. There was luckily enough moonlight streaming through the windows that it wasn’t total darkness, but Priscilla did take care to step carefully up the stairs with a firm grip on the railing.

With the stairs successfully conquered, Priscilla found there was only a single hallway with rooms, as to the left seemed to lead to an upstairs ballroom which baffled her with its existence.

She passed by a set of rooms and paused when she heard a male and female voice muffled by the door. That must be the parents’ room and she continued walking to the farthest room from theirs, hoping it would be Priscilla’s.

Just to be sure, she knocked lightly on the door, hoping there would be no answer.

But, of course, the door opened, revealing Illnyea with her hair down, water dripping off the tips onto a towel thrown carelessly over her shoulders. She seemed to be dressed for bed and she looked as startled to see Priscilla as Priscilla was to see her.

“Priscilla?” Illnyea said incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

Priscilla had to think fast and come up with an excuse that would make sense.

“I wanted to say goodnight.”

Drats, she thought too fast. The excuse sounded lame even to her own ears. Usually Priscilla was better about acting under pressure, but Illnyea’s sudden reappearance when she wasn’t expecting it made Priscilla’s brain cells take a vacation.

Illnyea’s look of confused disbelief was entirely warranted and Priscilla was once again regretting her life choices, dropping her gaze.

“I’m sorry for bothering you late at night, I just…” Priscilla bit off her words before she could dig a deeper hole. “Sorry.”

She turned to leave and keep at her fruitless search to find a place to sleep when a hand on her elbow made her pause. Priscilla looked over her shoulder, meeting Illnyea’s confused golden gaze.

Gently, Priscilla tugged her arm away as her mind raced at this sudden opportunity. She had captured Illnyea’s attention and Priscilla needed to figure out how to spin this to her advantage. It would require some manipulation, but a little manipulation never hurt anyone when it was for a good cause – namely, turning the antagonistic relationship between them into something less shitty.

“I didn’t mean to bother you this late,” Priscilla said slowly, swallowing hard. “I–...”

She cut herself off and was justly rewarded.

“You what?” Illnyea pressed, always unable to leave something that piqued her curiosity alone. Just like Priscilla thought she would.

“It’s stupid,” Priscilla said, scratching the side of her neck as she looked away.

“Say it anyway.” Ah, there was Illnyea’s straightforward nature working with Priscilla rather than against her.

Priscilla made a show of biting her lips, then said in a rush, as if confessing a crime, “I wanted to spend time with you because I was lonely.”

She then clamped her mouth shut like she had said more than she meant to. Illnyea’s skepticism was clear on her face and Priscilla let out a self-deprecating huff of laughter.

“I knew this was stupid,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m going to bed.”

Priscilla turned around like she knew where she was going. She made it a few steps before Illnyea grabbed her arm again, though it was gentler this time.

“You’re lonely?” Illnyea asked, incredulity written across her face. Priscilla didn’t blame her for that because she was certain the original Priscilla never would have admitted such a thing upon pain of death. (and not even that got her to speak with Illnyea, a morbid part of her mind murmured as Priscilla’s death flashed through her mind.)

“Just forget it,” Priscilla said, jerking her arm out of Illnyea’s hold, “it’s not like you would understand. You have friends and people adore you. You –”

Priscilla bit off her words to glare at the ground. “Everything you try to do goes amazingly and I’m just a massive fucking screw up that no one likes or cares about. I knew it was stupid to talk to you, I should just have gone to my fucking room to cry –”

Priscilla stiffened at just the right moment and glared at Illnyea, jabbing a finger in her direction.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“You didn’t hear that,” Priscilla hissed, really getting into the role. “I’m not going to cry or do anything nearly that idiotic – just go back to whatever you were doing before and we can live our separate lives like we always had.”

She spun on her heel and stalked away as if she really was trying to outrun her own tears.

“Where are you going?” Illnyea asked, her voice full of concern. Light spilled further into the hallway, letting Priscilla know Illnyea had opened the door up further.

“The garden,” Priscilla said mainly because it was the only place she actually knew how to get to.

“It’s cold at night,” Illnyea said, sounding like she had moved closer.

“Why are you trying to stop me?” Priscilla asked as she half turned around to glare at Illnyea, who was just a few steps behind her. “I don’t fucking understand, why don’t you just ignore me like you did earlier, huh?”

Illnyea look like she was struck, eyes widening as her mouth fell into a small o.

“I…” Illnyea looked a little lost as she softly said, “You shouldn’t swear.”

Priscilla couldn’t help the instinctive snort that came out of her nose. People had been telling her for years that she should cut down on her swearing because it was unprofessional and made her seem less intelligent, but she didn’t give a fuck about shitty opinions trying to dictate her life.

“Illnyea, I’ll fucking swear if I want to,” Priscilla said, a slightly evil idea coming to her mind. It should work as long as she had correctly picked up on context clues about the sisters' home life.

“It’s not like anyone listens to me anyway,” Priscilla said with a sneer, “but maybe if I swear loud enough, it’ll get our parents to notice me. Being yelled at is better than being ignored like I’m the family shame.”

This time Illnyea swayed where she stood, like she had been struck physically by Priscilla’s words. That reaction alone told Priscilla that these parents treated the original far too much like her own parents had treated her.

“Priscilla, don’t say that,” Illnyea said, her voice pleading, “they, they do love you…”

Illnyea fell silent as sudden rage flared in Priscilla’s chest that surprised her with its intensity. Out of all the arguments Illnyea could have chosen, that was the worst of the lot and probably would have gotten her slapped if the original was still in this body.

Priscilla’s parents loved her?

What a fat fucking lie.

Priscilla had those books fucking memorized, every single side story and casual mention of Priscilla seared into her obsessive brain. Every single fact pointed towards Priscilla growing up being compared to her sister and being found wanting, and if those supposed parents truly loved Priscilla, they sure as hell didn’t show it when they were informed of Priscilla’s death. Their reply letter was so bland and impersonal that she had ranted on the forms that it was a miracle Illnyea had turned out so caring.

And now Priscilla was the very same unloved child who only had a single person mourn her death. That person was standing in front of her, but this version of Illnyea was still helplessly naïve.

“They love me?” Priscilla asked, her voice flat. “Can you recall a single moment where they told me that? Any specific moment where they showed that they fucking cared at all, huh?”

Illnyea took a half step backwards as she thought over those questions, her face crumpling. Priscilla stayed quiet, wondering if she would be proven wrong. But it seemed Illnyea couldn’t refute her words as the silence stretched.

“That’s what I thought,” Priscilla said, turning to leave once more. She and the original had more in common than she thought they did, but the original didn’t have anyone like Mr. — to help her find what made her happy in life. Tears stung her eyes at the thought of Mr. — and the way she couldn’t even think of his stupid name. Did he even know she was gone? Was her body just laying there on her apartment floor for him to find?

The sound of feet slapping against the ground was the only warning Priscilla had before Illnyea grabbed her arm and jerked her to a stop, her fingers curling around Priscilla’s upper arm like a vice-grip.

Illnyea’s face wasn’t as close as the god’s had been earlier, but her gaze was heavy and searching, eyes flickering over Priscilla’s face. Priscilla tried to wipe away the tears before she could see them, but Illnyea caught it in a gentle grip to stop her.

Illnyea looked wretched as she whispered, “I’m sorry I never realized that you… gods, I…”

“There’s no reason why you would have,” Priscilla said, “not when everyone knows that I’m just a bitch and who would want to care about a bitch like me?”

Illnyea flinched and looked down, her fingers tightening around Priscilla’s bicep like it was a lifeline. “I still should have done something.”

Priscilla tilted her head as she looked at Illnyea. The girl was shaking with emotion and looked so very young and vulnerable. Priscilla wanted to wrap her up in blankets and give her hot cocoa and watch stupid, nostalgic cartoons – but she could do none of that, so Priscilla tried her best to think of what Mr. — would say in this situation.

“You’re not perfect,” Priscilla said slowly, and Illnyea winced again. “You’re not expected to solve every problem or dilemma you come across, and if anyone implies differently to you, fuck them. You’re only seventeen, Illnyea, and they were adults the whole time. There are only two people to blame for this, and you sure as hell aren’t one of them.”

Illnyea looked up with wet eyes, mouth quivering in a way that Priscilla never wanted to see again.

“You really don’t blame me?” Illnyea whispered.

“When we were younger, kind of,” Priscilla said, because there was no way to deny that with how the original acted, “but now… Now I know who to blame. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not your fault either,” Illnyea said, a fierceness burning in her watery eyes. “You, well, sometimes you get temperamental, but, but you were just a kid too. You still deserved love even if you weren’t perfect.”

Fuck, Priscilla could feel tears starting to come again and she looked away. Illnyea had helped to fill the void in her heart when her parents ignored her again and again, and to hear Illnyea say that to her was overwhelming because it was everything that a younger her could have ever dreamed of. She never did learn how to be okay with people seeing her cry, always preferring to hide in the privacy of her room, surrounded by her designs and art.

She tried to cough into her hand and the movement was aborted, as Illnyea was still grasping her arm. Illnyea let go immediately, but didn’t step away, still watching with careful eyes.

Priscilla finished her awkward cough.

“Do we have to keep talking out here?” Priscilla asked, gesturing to the hall.

Illnyea went a little pink.

“Oh, no, we can…” Illnyea seemed to visibly steel herself for what she was about to say. “We can maybe talk in your room?”

Priscilla let out an inward sigh of relief at that suggestion but merely nodded imperiously.

“Lead the way.”

Illnyea’s face brightened, a smile stretching across her face and Priscilla found herself smiling back without thinking about it. Illnyea raced back to her room to close the door, and then returned to Priscilla’s side with the enthusiasm of an excited puppy.

It turned out that Priscilla’s room was at the midway point between Illnyea’s and the parents. Priscilla committed the location to memory so she didn’t have to go stumbling around in search of her own room again.

Illnyea paused at the door, looking over her shoulder, but Priscilla waved at her to get on with it and walked in after her into the dark room. Illnyea lifted her hand and that was all the warning Priscilla had before the pain began. It was like sticking your finger in a light socket but the light socket was made of needles and made her hair stand on end, goosebumps rising all over her body.

Candles that were previously hidden flickered to life and when Illnyea put her hands down, the unpleasant feeling abruptly ended.

Illnyea turned shyly to Priscilla, apparently interpreting whatever expression she had on her face as curiosity. “Sulaiman has been working with me on fire magic. I’ve been practicing sensing candles wherever I go and it’s faster to use magic than to light them individually.”

“Impressive,” Priscilla said idly as she tried to discreetly rub away the pain in her arms and wondered where the fuck that pain came from. Illnyea ducked her head, but it didn’t hide her pleased flush.

Now that it was illuminated, the room was quite large. It had a four poster bed with bedding all in a matching ivy green color, a dresser, several bookshelves, and a sitting area of sorts with a red small couch with throw cushions, a chair, and something that looked like a coffee table. Priscilla walked to the small couch and Illnyea hurriedly took a seat next to her. Priscilla had to hide back a smirk – she could practically see puppy dog ears and a tail on Illnyea as she turned to Priscilla.

“Do you mind if we talk about lighter topics?” Priscilla asked, leaning back in the chair and throwing an arm over the back.

“I don’t mind at all!” Illnyea smiled wide but didn’t follow that up with anything, so it seemed it was up to Priscilla to make conversation.

“Alright, so how was your day?”

Illnyea gave her a slightly disbelieving look that that was her question but she answered anyway. “I visited Jarrison Village today.”

“That’s the village by the river,” Priscilla said, tilting her head as she recalled the maps of this area, “the one that’s an hour away, right?”

“Right!” Illnyea exclaimed, her eyes shining. “Their crops had been attacked lately so I figured I would go and see if there was anything I could do to help, and I ended up help tracking the prints to a nearby cave and found out it was a red dire bear!”

“You didn’t fight it, did you?” Priscilla asked, straightening from her slouched position with alarm. Red dire bears could be nasty, as they had an innate ability to set everything around them on fire and their hide was usually tough and magic resistant.

“Are you worrying about me, sister?” Illnyea said, a coy smile tugging her lips. The casual form of address took Priscilla by surprise, as Illnyea had never called the original that. But it seemed that Priscilla’s gambit was working better than expected and hope fluttered to life in her chest.

Priscilla tried to hide her smile by rolling her eyes. “You wish.”

Illnyea laughed, the sound wild and free and it made the hope in Priscilla’s chest burn brighter.

“Sure,” Illnyea said, drawing out the word teasingly, “whatever you say. But no, I’m not that reckless. I just scouted it out and gave the information to the village head so he can find someone else to take care of it.”

Illnyea tucked her hands under her thighs as she asked, “And how was your day?”

Priscilla really should have thought up a cover story because everything that happened to her today was absolutely fucking bonkers.

“I met a god today,” Priscilla drawled and Illnyea giggled, giving her a look telling Priscilla to be serious. “Besides that, I spent the day in the garden mostly, enjoying the flowers and sunshine. I even took a nap out there.”

Illnyea’s face fell for a moment before she forcibly perked back up.

“Naps are good for the brain,” she said sagely and Priscilla snorted.

“That they are,” Priscilla said, though her words were cut off by a yawn. “Sorry, guess that nap wasn’t good enough for my brain.”

“If you’re too tired to talk, I can go back to my room,” Illnyea offered, her words coming out in a tumbled rush.

“No that’s–” Priscilla cut herself off with another yawn. “Well, I was going to say it’s fine but it seems my body has other ideas.”

Illnyea fidgeted in her chair. “But maybe, we can talk tomorrow? In the morning?”

“That’s fine with me,” Priscilla said. Illnyea gave her another bright smile before abruptly lurching forward.

Priscilla flailed for a moment before realizing that Illnyea was giving her a hug. Priscilla returned it and leaned in, not minding Illnyea’s wet hair soaking into her dress.

When Illnyea pulled back, she looked bashful again.

Priscilla poked the teen in her forehead. “Ask next time and it’ll be less awkward, got it?”

Illnyea shook her head up and down emphatically, smiling wide once more.

“Sleep well, sister!” she said as she stood.

“Sleep well, sister,” Priscilla returned with just a moment of hesitation. Illnyea brightened again and then left with a small wave, a new pep to her step.

Leaving Priscilla alone at last.

There was no one to act for anymore, so Priscilla fully melted into the couch, letting all the tension drain from her body. She stared up at the ceiling, just letting her mind take a break from thinking because she really was tired emotionally, physically, and mentally from everything that happened to her today.

She let her head fall back further and looked out the large window of the room. Priscilla could see two moons floating high in the sky and that sight made her want to cry because it was another reminder that this world, familiar and comforting though it may be, was not hers and there was no way she was ever going to go home.

Mr. — would have to find another person to be his best lady for his wedding. She would never get to read out the speech she wrote for him, thanking him for everything he had done for her and lightly threatening his groom to not even think about making him cry. She would never get to see him walk down the aisle, never get to tell his kids to call her auntie and encourage them to find their own obsessions so she could make them custom made costumes as birthday presents. She would never get to go to another ice cream parlor with Mr. — to celebrate a new life achievement, never get to hear him say her name with exasperated fondness.

She was never going to see Mr. — ever again and that made her bawl, loud sobs wracking her frame. She let all her grief out, grief for what could have been and what would never be. She cried for Mr. —, she cried for his advice she would never hear again, she cried for the lifetime that was stolen from her

She closed her eyes as she thought about Mr. — and what he would say if he were here.

He’d probably sit down next to her and rub her back for a little while, letting her get it all out. But once she was calm enough to breathe normally, he’d say to her, “Moping won’t help us solve your problem. We can’t change anything if we wallow in despair.”

She smiled despite herself and though it was just her imagination, it helped steady her. Slowly, she put herself back together and calmed down.

Priscilla’s eyes were puffy and her nose an absolute mess, but she did feel better after crying.

“Crying is just weakness leaving the body,” she had said once to Mr. — and earned herself a forehead flick.

He had shook his head at her, crossing his arms in judgment as he tsked. “Crying is just pain leaving the body – don’t you dare let anyone tell you that crying makes you weak because they are afflicted by a terrible disease.”

“What disease?” she had asked despite her sore forehead.

Mr. — leaned in and grinned. “Stupidity.”

Priscilla smiled at the memory and took one final deep breath in before she stood up.

She had plans to make and destinies to defy.