The only daughter of House Rosseficent was timid. Aside from the fact that she had no aptitude for magic, she was well-known for being a pushover. She couldn't stand up for herself and her way of thinking was that of a toddler. Making her the subject of ridicule among the nobility.
Some pity her, some look at her with scorn. Lady Ranelle was the latter.
She and her friends strode through the lit hallways of the Rosseficent Manor, giggling as they were being escorted by the butler to the drawing room.
They are frequent visitors of Lady Selene. After hearing about the duchess' death, they came swarming to "sympathize" with their friend and provide some comfort.
Sitting on the chairs with their perfect postures, the lady in a green dress opened her fan and giggled. "So, what should we do today, Lady Ranelle?"
She was Lady Kiana, daughter of Count Flamelore. A house with high affinity to the fire element. They were rumored to be a far relative of the Empire's royal family. Lady Kiana herself was an icon in high society.
Lady Ranelle turned to her and said in a weak tone, "I've been depressed these days. My fiancée didn't visit me. I need to relieve some stress."
"Oh my, are you quite alright, Lady Ranelle?"
Lady Ranelle didn't get the chance to answer when they heard Lady Selene's footsteps.
Silence enveloped the room and the ladies looked at each other's eyes as though having a silent conversation.
In the next second, Selene stood before them and looked around the place. Lady Ranelle cleared her throat. They all remained seated despite Selene's arrival. If anything, they seemed to avoid her eyes instead, looking at the surroundings with fake interest.
Aside from that, there were no seats left. Selene didn't fail to notice the flickers of emotion on their seemingly innocent faces. It's not hard to figure out who these people are in the original Selene's life. It's obvious that they are not her friends, like how they claimed to be.
Selene smiled. "Let us proceed to the greenhouse. I wasn't informed of your visit, so the drawing room wasn't cleaned properly. My apologies."
At that moment, Lady Ranelle caught sight of the floor that seemed to sparkle when hit by the beams of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn't a speck of dust in the room.
And yet, she responded with a smile. "Of course, Lady Selene."
Some time later, they were all properly seated. Trays of cookies, a fragrant pot of tea and other refreshments filled the round table. The flowers in the greenhouse gave off a strong scent, obscuring all the other smells around. Above them was an intricate dome wherein the soft, afternoon sunlight was passing through, bathing them in its warmth.
Lady Kiana glanced at Lady Ranelle as though asking for permission. "Oh, where are my manners? My deepest condolences, Lady Selene. Your mother was a fine woman."
'Lies. She was bedridden from an unknown illness and was incapable of speaking for decades. There's no way you have met her.'
Despite her thoughts, Selene maintained a poker face and let out a small smile.
"Thank you."
"Will you be attending the Royal High, Lady Selene? I heard it's hard to get a spot." Lady Barbara sipped her tea, gauging Lady Selene's reaction.
"Oh, but with the Rosseficent's wealth, I'm sure Lady Selene will be accepted even though she doesn't have affinity to magic."
Selene's lips twitched.
'Right. Nobility is like this.'
"You're right, Lady Terra."
"Despite the duchess' lowly birth, the Rosseficent blood runs through your veins, Lady Selene. So, you are still considered a Royal."
"That is true..."
The conversation revolved around the topic, sometimes going to a tangent or involving the names of other nobles. It grew boring as time went on and Selene's eyelids were growing heavy. The urge to yawn was particularly hard to fight.
Fortunately, Selene had dealt with sleepiness many times before, so she can still maintain some semblance of alertness despite it. However, this time, she let herself zone out and think about other matters.
Three days since the funeral, Selene realized a few things.
Life as Lady Selene Antonette Rosseficent wasn't that busy, but she had a hard time adjusting. There are no smartphones and internet. The soaps and shampoo that kept her skin smooth and her hair luscious doesn't exist in this world. Her facial and feminine soaps were dearly missed. The things they use here were very uncomfortable, making Selene appreciate the little things she used to take for granted.
'I don't think I will ever get use to this.'
But, the most depressing part of it all is that, there are no air conditioners, refrigerators, ovens and blenders. She couldn't even properly take a shower. The diet she had worked so hard to plan out is no longer available.
The food and ingredients are unfamiliar. To top it all off, she hated the taste of tea, which appears to be the mainstream drink in this world.
'I can't take this anymore!'
She slammed the table with force, causing everyone to fall silent. The utensils jumped and Lady Barbara's tea spilled on her gown.
"Lady Selene?" They all looked at her as if they saw a ghost.
---
Lady Ranelle and her friends left a few hours ago. Their faces were contorted and Selene had a feeling that they won't be visiting her anytime soon. The manor was back to its usual, creepy, yet strangely comfortable atmosphere.
The original Selene wasn't as stupid as everyone thought. At least, based on the things she kept inside her room. Several rows of shelves filled with books were arranged to fit the limited space, strange devices and suspicious objects placed here and there, following a haunting aesthetic with an Arabian touch to it. The lady had a habit of writing down her discoveries in a journal and memorizing spells she could never use.
"Yes, Lady Selene. You have collected books related to magic your entire life and you... you memorized them all in the hopes that s-someday, you will awaken your affinity with magic."
The maid glanced at her hesitantly as she surveyed the shelves.
"D-Did you really not remember, My Lady?"
"No."
She gasped. "Should I tell his grace and the young lords?"
"Would they care?"
The maid went silent.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out how the original Selene was treated by her family and the people around her. She was left alone in this manor in the company of maids no older than her, while the rest of her family stayed at the mansion in Zurham City. She had no clue where that is and it's not like she could go there anyway.
Lifting her gaze, she neared the wall of portraits, hung in a position where she could see it if she lied down the bed.
A man with dark hair framed with the biggest and most intricate frame, a younger man who was a splitting image of the former, a smiling man who had long, red locks and lastly, a delicate woman who had her eyes closed, with cascading hair in a light shade of blue.
'It was probably painted while she was bedridden.'
She was the duchess.
At first, Selene was creeped out by this particular portrait. But, when she kept on seeing it first thing in the morning, she began to understand its purpose.
'It must have been lonely.'
Shaking her head, she addressed the lady-in-waiting.
"I want to be alone."
"As you wish, Lady Selene."
The door closed with a soft thud.
She sighed and sat on the bed, studying the portraits and trying to find clues of Selene Rosseficent's feelings.
She was kept like a prisoner. She needed a signed permission from the duke himself before she could step out of the gates. Isolated from the rest of the world and only interacting with miserable nobles, naturally, she wouldn't have the chance to pursue other hobbies instead of journaling and memorizing spells.
It was a lonely life. Surrounded by maids and extravagance and yet, feeling alone.
'Come to think of it, we're a bit similar. Although, it was my choice to lock myself and study like crazy.'
In the next day, Selene went down the kitchen where the staffs would prepare her meals. She expected to see a busy environment, but to her surprise, there was no soul in sight. Peeking at the curtains, she saw a faint light behind the towering trees and realized the time. She was used to waking up at the crack of dawn to study and forgot that most people don't.
She spent the next few days in idleness. Well, according to her standards that is, reading the journals of the estranged daughter of a duke and drowning herself in a mountain of spell books.
During these days, a few things became clear.
She is definitely in another world. From one of the spell books, there was a paragraph describing the world she is now in.
Zetheria. The West, East, South and Northern Continents. Vampires, dwarves, dragons and mages. Apparently, Selene was supposed to be a mage. But, due to some unknown reasons, she couldn't wield any type of magic.
This resulted to her being ostracized by the Royalty—the term they use to refer to the nobility.
"My lady, Prince Damian paid you a visit."
She turned a page and glanced at her lady-in-waiting.
"Who's that?"
"Uh, the second prince, my lady."
"What is our relationship?" She asked with her eyes still glued on the book.
"H-He's your lover."
Selene stopped reading. Her shoulders shook and her heartbeat doubled.
'Oh, no. I have to deal with something like this, too?'
She massaged her temple and sighed heavily.
"Where is he?"
"At the veranda, my lady."
Without fixing her gown, Selene left her room, strode through the hallways, climbed down the grand staircase, and stopped on her tracks when she saw the man leaning on a pillar.
'Selene Rosseficent doesn't have magic. But, she did have a wealthy family. Is this how she managed to get a royalty? Not just any royalty, but actual royalty!'
Despite all her doubts, Selene greeted the visitor.
She curtsied. "Hello, your royal highness."
The prince stared at her up and down with a questioning look on his manly face. His lips were curled in amusement.
"What's with the courtesy?"
His eyes were brown, with a hint of malice and his hair was cut so cleanly like he was a part of the military. His nose, almost perfect as it flared with ridicule and his lips were curvy, probably from smirking all the time.
From this alone, Selene could tell that he was a jerk.
His face looked like someone who would cheat and do unspeakable things. Insanely good looking with his style and aura bordering on ruggedness and elegance. But of course, her assumptions are subjected to further observation.
Ignoring his remark, she sat down on one of the chairs and stared at him for a few more seconds.
"If you don't mind, your highness. May I know the purpose of your visit?"
Her question hung in the silence. The prince looked back at her, still amused with her actions. He stared at her intently as though searching for a flaw he could pick on. Selene perfectly maintained a mask of nonchalance.
Then, after several seconds, the prince bursted into fits of laughter. He took no effort to maintain his decorum, letting his loud laughter fill the halls of the old manor. Selene saw it as a bad premonition.
A sweat formed on her forehead.
'What is wrong with him? Or am I doing this wrong? How am I supposed to deal with this predicament?'
To release some excess energy, she took the teapot and pour the harrowing liquid into her teacup, her hands slightly shaking were almost unnoticeable.
Bringing the cup to her face, she winced at the leafy smell.
Still chuckling, Prince Damian asked, "Did your mother's death made you lose some screws?"
"No, your highness."
"Ah, how boring. So? What about your research on the 35th spell?" He sat on the other chair and leaned in, looking at her expectantly.
'35th spell?'
The pages of the spell books she had read flew in her mind. However, none of those mentioned the spell, except the fact that it was not discovered yet.
"Why do you ask?"
"Come on. Don't tell me you forgot the deal? It hasn't been that long. You're acting strange."
Since Selene wasn't the real Selene, she had no clue as to what their deal is about. Her mind was in a state of panic, like seeing an item on the test paper that she did not study about.
In the end, she settled with her safest bet. In order to eliminate the possibility of being discovered by him in the future and possibly getting more of these questions, she must sever her connection to him.
"You know what? The deal is null and I'm breaking up with you."
"Huh."
The malice in his eyes disappeared. He stood up and walked to her side. His steps were heavy as it echoed on the walls.
He lowered himself to Selene's level and gripped her shoulders tightly. Then he said in a low, quivering voice.
"Do you want to die? Am I going to say it again? Do you think you have a choice in this?"
She noticed that his body was shaking, making her heart skip a beat fearfully. His eyes were a bit wide. The carefree vibe he showed earlier was replaced with deep resentment.
Then, almost immediately, he smiled. He stood up and went back to his seat.
"So, what about the 35th spell?"
Selene hid her shaking hands under the table. Pursing her lips and stabilizing her breathing by focusing on her exhale—a technique she often used when she's speaking to a mass of people.
The mask of calmness on her face remained.
"I unraveled an old word that could possibly be a part of the spell."
Prince Damian's face lit up like that of a child. "And that is?"
"Plumbum." The word came out before she could think of it. Selene face-palmed internally and hid her embarrassment with a perfect straight expression.
Crossing his arms, the prince leaned on the backrest of his chair. "I've never heard of that."
'Of course, it's the Latin word of Lead, an element in the periodic table. But, you don't have to know that.'