Villainess 1: Janet’s First Retry
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Red Pill 5: Homerooms, Retry!
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After her spectral clones advised her on how to proceed, Janet exited the women’s bathroom and stalked through the empty parlor area with her clones leading the way, passing by some truant students glancing her way as they talked about her. She ignored them and ascended the first flight of stairs into the second floor and a second flight into the third floor, thinking about her childhood recollections of the bashful Prince Blaise she had known, of the way he used to play hide and seek with her during their parents’ garden party visits at each other’s estates, of the way he leaped out of corners to scare her, and of the way he used to share ghost stories with her. In fact, Janet had developed her taste of ghost stories and gothic romances and mysteries because of Prince Blaise’s childhood ghost stories, so when did he begin to change? But on second thought, she already knew the answer.
“We’re here, Janet,” her suicide double said.
Janet snapped out of her reveries and found herself in the hallway where her homeroom class awaited her to the right of the staircase landing, the first classroom on the Western half of the third-floor hallway facing South through its windows: Classroom 1-3C. And crowding around her were the rest of her doubles looking at her as if Janet was about to break down and cry. She took a few steps towards the gap between the upper and lower staircases and lingered by the balustrade where her suicide double had stood atop the railing and looked down into the parlor area. And for a split second, Janet reeled at the thought of her double’s broken body there on the floor, a bloody halo spreading from a shattered skull. She gripped the railing, tears trailing her cheeks, and wiped them away as a question ached inside her chest.
“What is it?” her double said.
“Was Donny always so cruel?” Janet said.
“That’s just the way he is,” her poisoned double said, “though he was very good at hiding it.”
“Then,” Janet said, turning to all of her clones in the hallway, “was he complicit in your deaths?”
Without saying a word, all of her clones confirmed her suspicions with nods of their heads, and Janet’s beheaded double said, “We were just too blind to see for ourselves, till it was too late for us to do anything about it.”
Then Janet looked at her suicide double, the only one amongst them who died by her own will, and said, “Just before you jumped, did you think he still cared for you?”
Janet’s question left her double silent for a moment, till she said, “I don’t know, but that’s all in the past. There’s nothing I can do about it now,” and she took Janet’s hand. “That’s the reality of our part in this godless world where all of us are fated to die, but we won’t let that happen this time around. Not with you,” and she guided Janet to the classroom. Yet just as she stalked up to the double doors, her clones stopped her, and her suicide clone grabbed her hands and said, “I’ll check out what’s happening inside first,” and she stalked through the double doors.
“What’s happening?” Janet said.
And another clone put her finger to her lips, saying, “Shhhh, just wait on her lead.”
So she waited for her doppelgänger on the other side of the doors, which rumbled with the hubbub of students talking. She found herself wondering if Prince Blaise had already left for Baron Palmer’s office and if Rosalie was now turning the class against her. She gulped at the prospect of experiencing what her suicide double had endured, but her wait was short-lived.
Her double said in her mind, “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Janet said, looking at her clones in the hallway and turning her attention to the classroom past the double doors. “How are you doing that?”
“We’re doppelgängers, Janet,” her suicide double said. “Now close your eyes and concentrate on my voice as I’m counting. One . . . Two . . . Three . . .”
So Janet did just that, closing her eyes and focusing on her double’s voice counting up to ten, then to twenty, and then to thirty and so on. In this state, Janet waited for something to happen, yet she hadn’t a clue what that was.
(Then, once two minutes of counting had elapsed, her double said, “Open your eyes, Janet.”
She opened them and beheld rows of tables lined up in columns, all filled with aristocratic students talking amongst themselves. She then turned around when she heard Prince Blaise talking in whispers with a bespectacled Lord Ridley Woodberry, the son of Duke Woodberry, near the professor’s lectern in front of the classroom.
“What’s going on?” Janet said to her double.
“Just listen,” her double said.)
After he was finished talking with Lord Woodberry, Prince Blaise addressed the class, saying, “I’ve talked about this with Baron Palmer in his office before the start of class, so he’s out right now. He’ll be back once he gets the papers ready, but I’ll just give you all fair warning. After his Majesty and his Grace, Duke Woodberry, and his Lordship, Marquess Fleming, all talked with the school board over the weekend about Lady Fleming’s actions towards Miss Edgeworth last Friday, they’ve decided to transfer Lady Fleming to another homeroom starting tomorrow.”
At those words, the students all broke out into a hubbub of speculation about Janet’s troubled engagement with the prince, so Lord Woodberry added, “This isn’t about an engagement, everyone. It’s just a transfer.”
“Why not just have her expelled?” one student said.
“They’ve talked about it,” the Prince said, “but they feel that having a student expelled without direct eyewitness testimony is—”
“Pardon me, your Highness,” a viscount’s daughter said, “but didn’t you witness it yourself?”
And for the second time that morning, Prince Blaise fell silent as if he was unsure how to respond, till he said, “No, but Lady Fleming’s actions against Miss Edgeworth have disinclined me to believe anything she says.”
(At his words, Janet squeezed her hands into fists and gritted her teeth, saying, “Then why don’t you just break off our engagement, you bastard?”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” her double said. “We’ll do just that in a little bit.”
Janet gaped and said, “Wait, really?” And when her double nodded and smiled, she added, “Then do you know where my engagement ring went?”
“You have it on you right now,” her double said.
“No, I don’t.”
“Look at your left hand,” she said.
Janet did, and lo and behold! It was there on her left ring finger as if she had never taken it off, as if she had never lost it over the weekend. She just stared at her double and said, “Where did you find this?”
“It was my engagement ring,” her double said. “When you enter this room, I want you to give that ring to Miss Edgeworth after she ‘apologizes’ to you.”
“She’s going to insult me,” Janet said.
“Oh, I know she will,” her double said. “Just bear with it, okay? But if there’s anyone you should be angry at, it’s him,” and she pointed to Prince Blaise talking in whispers with Lord Woodberry again about whether or not the school board would allow spies on Janet, should she attempt something else on Miss Edgeworth.
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“I know,” Janet said.)
Then, as Prince Blaise finished talking with Lord Woodberry, Rosalie Edgeworth stood up from her seat at the back table near the last of the windows in the classroom and said, “Wait, your Highness. If today is Lady Fleming’s last day here, then I want to apologize to her.”
(“Yeah, right, you bitch,” Janet said.)
“Why should you apologize?” he said. “If anything, it’s Lady Fleming who should apologize to you.”
“I know,” she said, “but I feel responsible for attracting your favor. She is still your fiancée, after all.”
(“Not anymore,” Janet said.)
“You’re too kind for your own good, Rosy,” Prince Blaise said. “That’s why I worry about you.”
(“Fuck you, you bastard,” Janet said.
“Now, now,” her double said, putting her hand over Janet’s. “Save it for your entrance.”)
So Rosalie got up from her chair and stalked towards Prince Blaise, saying, “Please, your Highness. Allow me to apologize to Lady Fleming before she goes.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said.
“I know,” Rosalie said, “but I need to do it for myself. Even if I can’t patch things up with her, I can at least get that off of my chest. Otherwise, I can’t live with myself.”
Prince Blaise sighed at her request.
“Please, your Highness,” she repeated.
“All right,” Prince Blaise said, “but be careful around her.”
“I will, your Highness,” Rosalie said.
“Good,” he said, then to Lord Woodberry: “Go find Lady Fleming and bring her here at once.”
“Will do, your Highness,” Lord Woodberry said and headed for the double doors.
(“That’s your cue,” her doppelgänger said, then grabbed Janet’s shoulders and pushed her off of her feet into a free fall through a darkness more than night, falling through an eternity of silent screams and grasping hands, of tossing and turning on countless beds at night to hideous dreams, and of being trapped inside a villainous role she was doomed to play over and over like a broken record.
Yet through all that stirring chaos, Janet found herself counting in her mind again in ascending order: One . . . Two . . . Three . . .)
When she reached the count of thirty, Janet opened her eyes and lifted her hand to her sweaty forehead, feeling light-headed and tipsy on her feet as if she had been drinking, even though she had never downed a pint in her life. She kept blinking her eyes and taking deep breaths, till she had settled herself, just as Ridley Woodberry pulled open the double doors and started at the sight of her.
“Lady Fleming,” he said, “were you listening?”
“Yes, I was,” Janet said, wiping the sweat from her brow, and waited for her vision to refocus on a handsome young man with black hair parted over his right eye. She blinked a few times as her vision settled, then touched the ring on her left ring finger before looking at Prince Blaise’s glaring eyes fixed on her. “May I come in, your Highness?”
“Yes, you may,” Prince Blaise said, “but I’m warning you, Lady Fleming. If you do anything to—”
“I know, and I won’t,” Janet said and entered the classroom under the silent stares of her classmates, all of whom sat up from their seats at her ignominious entrance without seeing Janet’s clones following behind her and crowding around the little gathering at the front of the classroom. Ignoring them all, Janet stalked right up to Rosalie as Prince Blaise shielded her nemesis with his arm.
“I’m warning you,” Prince Blaise said.
“I’ve already heard you, your Highness,” Janet said. “You don’t need to repeat it like I’m an idiot.”
“I didn’t say that,” he said.
“Whatever,” Janet said and looked past him at her nemesis. “My business is with Miss Edgeworth, not you.”
But he wouldn’t budge.
So Rosalie grabbed the Prince’s arm and said, “Please, your Highness. Let me talk to her.” At her insistence, he let Rosalie go and crossed his arms, glaring at Lady Fleming like a hawk. With that, Rosalie grabbed a hold of Janet’s hands and said, “Lady Fleming, I’m so sorry for catching his Highness’s attention,” and she leaned forward and whispered something else into her ear: “And I’m sorry you’re born out of wedlock.”
Janet bit down on her lower lip and closed her eyes, thinking back on the vision of her double getting angry at her nemesis and getting dragged out of the classroom and having Prince Blaise chew her out for insinuating anything against Rosalie, and forced a smile on her face. She even giggled like a grade-schooler, then said, “Thank you, Miss Edgeworth. You truly are too kind for your own good. I know that nobody will believe me, but I really am sorry for ripping your dress last time. I was just angry at the wrong person.”
“What are you implying?” Prince Blaise said.
(“She’s saying you’re the problem, bastard,” her suicide clone said with her arms akimbo, and the rest of Janet’s clones kept saying he was an idiot in various colorful expressions.)
“I’m angry at you, your Highness,” Janet said, “but I’m not finished talking with Miss Edgeworth just yet.”
“If you’re just trying to spite me—”
“You can think whatever you like. I don’t care,” Janet said, looking at the approving nods of her doubles, and faced Rosalie head-on. “I want to make it up to you, Miss Edgeworth.”
Rosalie just stared at her, her blue eyes wide and sparkling, her mouth gaping just enough for her to match the image of a flustered girl not expecting such kindness, yet Janet saw through her mask and found traces of fear written all over her face. As such, Rosalie let go of her hands and said, “Thank you, Lady Fleming. You’ve no idea how much that means to me, but how are you going to do that?”
Yet Janet was praying that Rosalie would slip on the stairs and break her neck, but she kept up appearances and said, “I’ll give you a parting gift.”
“Wait a minute,” Rosalie said. “You don’t have to.”
“I insist,” Janet said, taking off her double’s engagement ring amidst a collective gasp from the students.
(“Take that, bitch!” her double said.)
“What’s the meaning of this?” Prince Blaise said, coming forward and grabbing Janet’s wrist before she gave it away.
“I’m only doing what’s right and just,” Janet said and pulled her hand from Prince Blaise’s grasp, then winced when he held on too tight, making her clones crowd around him and threaten him to let her go, even though he heard none of their threats.
Still, he let go and said, “Why are you doing this?”
(“Are you okay, Janet?” her double said.)
Janet gave her clone the barest of nods before the unwitting eyes of Prince Blaise and Rosalie and Lord Woodberry and the rest of the class. Then she nursed her hand, clenching and opening it, and continued with her charade, giving her clones a performance to remember.
“Don’t act so coy, your Highness,” Janet said. “You and I both know who you truly love, so make sure to give this ring to Miss Edgeworth after I leave.”
“I can’t do that,” Prince Blaise said. “Janet, what’s gotten into you?”
“I’m only making things easier for Miss Edgeworth, so there won’t be any conflict of interest later on,” she said and placed the ring atop the lectern as her clones all cheered her on and whistled. “Just make sure to give that ring to her, for I won’t have it anymore.” And she turned on her heel and walked towards the double doors, her clones following her in tow, then paused on the threshold and added, “Oh, and we’re on formal terms, your Highness. You don’t have my permission to call me by my first name.” Then she added, “And one more thing, Miss Edgeworth, before I leave for good.”
“Lady Fleming,” Rosalie said, looking paler and paler by the second. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”
“I’m not doing this just for your sake, Miss Edgeworth,” Janet said. “I’m also doing it for my sake. God knows I’ll be miserable with a man like his Highness by my side, but maybe he’ll turn out better with you. With that said,” she added, turning around with a smile and curtseying on the threshold, “may you both be happy with each other for the rest of your lives. Goodbye.”
Janet stalked off into the hallway in an ecstasy of tears, feeling better than she had been since the start of the fall semester, while her clones celebrated her first comeback against Rosalie and the Prince. But that was only for a moment, because after a few steps into the hallway, Janet wobbled on her feet as her head reeled and her vision blurred in and out of focus, so her doubles propped her up and helped her lean against the wall. Janet’s temples were wet with sweat, and her head ached with the pounding insistence of a drum, and her stomach rolled and lurched like a vessel on a tempestuous sea.
So her suicide double said, “Are you all right?” When Janet shook her head, her suicide double put her hand on Janet’s forehead and said, “You’re burning up. Maybe you should sit down for a bit.”
And with the help of the other doubles, Janet sat on the floor with her back against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest, her elbows resting on her knees, and her forearms cradling the sides of her head.
That’s when Lord Woodberry stuck his head out into the hallway and ran up to her, saying, “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”
Yet Janet said nothing, only closing her eyes to keep her head from spinning like a top, so Lord Woodberry crouched next to her and put his hand on her forehead.
“You should go to the infirmary,” he said and took her hands in his. “Can you stand, Lady Fleming?”
Janet nodded, and with Lord Woodberry’s help, she stood back up on wobbly knees and leaned against the wall. Thereafter Prince Blaise came out into the hallway upon Lord Woodberry’s outburst and said, “What’s going on here?”
“She’s sick, your Highness,” Lord Woodberry said.
“Don’t concern yourselves with me,” Janet said, propping herself from the wall. “I’ll go there myself.”
“No, you won’t,” he said. “I can’t let you go downstairs in your condition.”
“Just leave me be,” she said.
“What is this farce?” Prince Blaise said and glared at Janet like a lion ready to pounce. “First, you spite me, then you embarrass me and Miss Edgeworth, and now you’re playing the sympathy card? Are you really that desperate?”
“You said it yourself, your Highness,” Janet said. “I’m already dead to you.”
“What? I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I don’t care. Just let me alone,” she said and pulled herself away from Lord Woodberry’s grasp and moved her steps along the hallway, keeping her hand up against the wall to balance herself. All the while, Prince Blaise and Lord Woodberry stared after her, while Janet kept trudging forwards towards the staircase landing, where her double had climbed the balustrade and jumped to her death two stories below, and where the rest of her doubles crowded around the landing and begged her to stop. Yet by the time she neared the landing, her body gave out, and Janet fell face down onto the floor with a thud like the thud of a casket shutting over the face of the dead, while Janet’s spirit fell down through the endless free fall of eternity, down into the belly of another dream.
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End of Villainess 1