Sleep did not swiftly claim me, yet eventually, it did. I awoke with the dawn as dutiful Fermina drew back the curtains, allowing the sun to flood the chamber. Our eyes met; she offered a tender smile, then—without warning—began to undress! Would my sinful eyes inadvertently witness divinity itself behind the…? Oh, no, they would not. My head turned aside, and with that movement came the realization: I could no longer command Princess’s body as I had the previous evening. A beautiful visage lifted a hand mirror before her.
“Hey, Dubart, are you still there?” It was Princess, the real Aufelia, no longer a mere thought lingering at the periphery of my mind.
“Indeed, I am,” I confessed. “The laws governing a body shared by two souls seem erratic, at best. The sun, or perhaps your circadian rhythm, might play a role. Whoever holds dominion over the body is never permanent,” I observed. “If we reflect upon the last occurrence, we may expect my resurgence at the dusk prayer.”
She exhaled, relieved, though I knew hope still mingled with her distress. “I thought you would get to live my life with me only watching. I am so glad!”
“Did you say anything, Aufelia?” Rascal asked, approaching us. [This passage has been removed due to ToS restrictions. In the published novel, the description continues.]
Princess hurried to turn away. “No, sorry; only talking to myself. Pay me no mind!” Princess excused herself while actively avoiding seeing any of her sisters in states of undress.
“Yes, I heard that,” Rascal replied, already preparing to mock her. “Talking to your reflection again, I see! That is so very you, Princess!” she quipped with a feigned haughtiness before laughing and turning away.
Princess groaned in irritation. As just recompense, [This has been removed to remain compliant. The original text is preserved in the published edition.] In a tone both amused and warning, she added, “That’s what you get,” having the last laugh for once. “And calm down in there, you little pervert; I can feel you getting excited. If you make me faint by seeing my own sister, I’ll never forgive you, my lecherous Master,” she alluded to the incident I would never live down.
Princess managed to dress without ever glimpsing her reflection, only pausing to use a mirror when applying her beauty products. She waited patiently for her turn, allowing Fermina and Rascal to finish first, before convincing them to go ahead without her. Once alone with me, her thoughts turned inward.
Predictably, her first thought was, “What are we going to do now? What is your plan, Dubart?”
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“I have many ideas, though regrettably, most are unfeasible,” I admitted, for the grand notions of the previous night had led me here but no further.
“Don’t you give up on me!” she insisted, yanking her hair with a careless brushstroke that caused us both to hiss in pain. “What are the problems with your plans, exactly? Do you need to be in control? I can look at books and turn pages for you,” she offered.
“Though generous, the issue lies beyond mere control. I cannot summon books with the vast resources once at my disposal, nor can I have my father hunt them down as he did when I… lived, I suppose? Unfortunately, our predicament may require the knowledge of theurgy,” I remarked, and Princess flinched, instinctively glancing about at the utterance of the term.
“You know well by now that only you can hear me,” I reminded her when she returned to the mirror. “It is highly likely that the research I left behind in my ‘infirmary’ has been burned by my brother to protect me. Ironic, is it not? A select few individuals may possess the information we need or be capable of extracting my soul from your body, but I haven’t the slightest idea of how to find them.”
“I don’t know about,” Princess made a pause, hunched over, and whispered into her hands, “theurgists, either,” she then resumed her grooming, “but if you want books, we can go to town. They have a library. You could find something,” she suggested hopefully.
By ‘town’, she meant Bernan, the nearest city under my father’s rule. The journey by carriage required a sixth of the day, undertaken by many servants who procured fresh produce daily. However, stagecoaches for distinguished guests were rare, and no noble would endure the indignity of riding in a cart amongst fruit or animals. Princess certainly would not. Though I had never set foot in Bernan, I had heard enough to refrain from prematurely dismissing the potential of its library.
“It is worth considering,” I conceded. “That leaves only the matter of funds,” for the books I sought were extravagantly priced.
“I have an allowance!” she declared, though I was well aware of her finances. Two royal seals monthly—a sum that three dozen well-compensated laborers might earn in the same time. Books pertaining to my interest were sometimes priced in the hundreds of royal seals. Even with years of savings—a doubtful assumption—and favorable prices, we could only afford the bare minimum.
“It is not nearly sufficient,” I asserted firmly, hoping she would not stubbornly challenge me. “Worry not, Princess. We shall use my wealth. The taxes from my fief and the worth of my belongings should secure us a considerable fortune. I held a title as Baron of Stratna, after all.”
“Listen, Dubart… just because I… took at what the moment figured was a gem,” she began, ashamed, “it doesn’t mean that I would go back into your infirmary and break into your stash. I am not a thief, whatever you may think.”
“There is no need for theft,” I reassured her. “I shall draft a living will. The steward shall recognize my handwriting, and the document will be legitimate. We need only determine how to place it discreetly.”
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