I sigh as my etiquette instructor, Mrs. Finnley, continues to ramble on about proper dinner etiquette regarding which fork, spoon, and knife to use for which dish and in what order to use them.

  It has been three days since my father left on urgent business after I told him about the nightmare I had experienced. I still have a strong suspicion that the horrible dream was some sort of residual memory left over from the previous occupant of my body, but with no way to prove it, that is all it was, a suspicion. Since then, part of me has expected that little brat to appear to me again to explain that my suspicion was true, but so far that hasn’t happened. I figure at the very least he would have come to explain how it shouldn’t have been possible for me to have a dream regarding the memories of this body’s previous tenant. Logically, I realize that it could have been just a dream concocted by my brain using the tidbits of information I had heard up to that point and have no actual bearing in the reality of what actually happened to the former Beira. Instead, it had felt too real for me to dismiss purely as the machinations of my subconscious trying to build a false narrative to fill in past events with the information I had been given. In fact, the more I think about it, the surer I become that I had somehow experienced a memory of the original Beira, especially considering how the duke had reacted.

  The day after my father left, my mother, true to her word had tutors come to start filling in the gaps in my knowledge. The first tutor, Professor Lancaster, went over the basic geography of the kingdom of Elgoss, including tidbits about the neighboring nations. Through him I learned that the lands of my father, which included the Braemar Keep and surrounding city of Lochavria, were several hundred miles to the north of the capital city Aberling which was centrally located in relation to the kingdom’s borders. About fifteen miles to the south east was the town of Larkinshire, which hosted a chateau for the royal family, the location that Prince Angus and Princess Isabella had been officially staying at since the night of my fifteenth birthday so that they could be close by when I woke. Unofficially, Angus had been staying in the keep until I had awoken, while Izzy had been ferrying herself back and forth, making her visits more sporadic during the three weeks before I “awoke.” The area surrounding the city of Lochavria and Braemar Keep consisted of a huge forest called the great Ariundle Wood which was filled with ancient trees and spanned over two hundred miles from end to end, with the city near its center.

  To the east sat Ramberg Loch, a huge lake where runoff from the mountains to the northeast flowed filling its depths with icy blue waters year-round. Larkinshire sat on the shore of the loch and boasted a vibrant fishing industry due to the abundant variety of fish that filled its waters. On its far shore sat Lancaster, a smaller fishing village, that was in the neighboring dutchy of Duke Breegar.

  To the west there was another large lake called Rainglon Loch. On its southern tip sat another small town called Galehorne, which sat right on the border of the Braemar Dutchy.

  A little over a hundred miles to the north, and slightly to the east was the former town of Hejlsberg, where there once were large mithril mines burrowed into the solitary Mount Killeld. When I asked Professor Lancaster, why it was a former town and not a current town, he avoided the question and it seemed like a sore subject for him. To the west of Hejlsberg, only a few miles away, was a small mining village called New Hejlsberg, that had resumed mining the mountain for its precious ores. New Hejlsberg apparently was growing at a healthy rate and would likely be large enough to be called a town in a few years as the former residents of Hejlsberg returned to the area. Everyone seemed intent on avoiding the old Hejlsberg though, and I could almost feel the annoyance coming off of the professor when I tried to inquire why.

  The sound of Mrs. Finnley clearing her throat brings me back to the present, interrupting my thoughts on the much more interesting subject of this world’s geography.

  “Miss Braemar,” she says curtly and I have the mental image of an older woman, her graying hair in a bun, arching her eyebrow at me incredulously. I wonder how closely my imagination matches her actual appearance. “If you would, please pay attention. These are important life skills for a lady of your upbringing.”

  I roll my eyes before I can stop myself.

  “I saw that, young lady.” She says, an edge of frustration starting to creep into her voice.

  “My apologies, Mrs. Finnley.” I say, trying my best to look attentive and apologetic. “Please continue.”

  Mrs. Finnley sighs but continues her lesson as if there had been no interruption.

  “Now, when you have finished eating, take you napkin from your lap and fold it loosely, placing it to the left of your plate. If your plate has already been taken by the servants, place the loosely folded napkin where your plate had been.”

  As she continues to drone on, my mind slips back to the lesson I had the day before with Lordrin Zellen, a minor noble, in which an overview of how magic works was explained to me. Most people of noble blood had an affinity with a type of magic, most of which fell under the elemental type, but were not limited to it. Izzy, and consequently her mother, the current queen, both use a form of mental magic that allows them to manipulate people and animals. Izzy could bring forth the desires of people and manipulate them into acting upon them, but she could not make them do anything they had no desire to do.

  It is possible she may be able to do that one day, but it will likely require her to perform chants, a method of focusing one’s natural magical talent into doing things they normally could not accomplish. The way I understood it, everyone who possesses a magical affinity, can manipulate that energy to some degree with no chanting involved. Their innate ability in using their affinity varied from person to person, and everyone has a potential maximum upper limit to what they can do with their affinity, with that potential being higher or lower depending on the individual. Most people have to work for years, building strength with their affinity in order to eventually be able to hit their maximum upper limit. Chants, on the other hand, allowed a person to surpass their current upper limit, or maximum upper limit assuming that had been reached, in order to perform feats that surpass their current abilities. Izzy’s potential isn’t as high as her mother, but as she gets stronger, she will eventually be able to use chants in order to achieve what her mother can do without them.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Chants could also be used to imbue an object relating to one’s affinity with a portion of their magical energy, allowing it to be accessed at a later time, either through channeling energy into the object or triggering it with keywords set by the caster. The latter method would allow anyone who knew the keyword to trigger the effect stored in the object.

  I, or rather Beira the former, had a very large potential that would have allowed her to perform feats without chants that most wouldn’t be able to achieve even with chants. Mr. Zellen apparently had an ability that would allow him to get a rough reading on someone’s potential, so I had asked him if he had ever tested me, which is when he told me about what he had gleaned from the original Beira. I asked if he could check me again, using the excuse that I was curious if potential could change over time. He assured me it couldn’t, but after I pestered him for several minutes, he finally gave in. He instructed me to close my eyes and focus on gathering as much energy as I could, drawing on my affinity, but like it had been when Angus had tried to instruct me the other day when he and Izzy had been visiting, nothing happened. I even tried to emulate what it had felt like in the nightmare, when I had been able to produce darts, shields, and walls of ice, but no matter what I tried, nothing worked. Mr. Zellen seemed baffled and told me that until I could at least draw on my affinity, there was no way he could test my potential. I’ll admit, I didn’t handle that news well even though I already knew there was likely no chance I would ever be able to access the abilities the former owner of my body had.

  I sigh and turn my attention back to Mrs. Finnley and her incessant droning about dining etiquette, this time about the pacing to match the speed of others eating at the table. It is information I find to be both boring and useless considering I still cannot see, though, in the last couple of days, I have started to be able to detect light sources, provided the light is bright enough to pierce the darkness of my sight. Aside from that, my vision is still filled by darkness except when someone uses magic around me. Still, an improvement is an improvement.

  Angus has been back to see me each morning, spending time chatting with me in the library. He would usually start by telling me how his day was after he left on the previous one and I would then tell him about the lessons I had in the afternoon that followed his departure. After that, we would briefly discuss the weather, before moving on to the part of the day I find the most entertaining, he would read to me. The original Biera had been a total book worm, something we apparently had in common, and Angus, knowing I was unable to read, would oblige me by reading a chapter in one of the books that I had picked by reaching blindly onto a nearby shelf. The book was called ‘The Lonely Princess and the Stalwart Knight’ and so far, it had just been character introductions and plot set up, but I could tell by the language used that it would probably get a bit spicy toward the end. I guess romance novels follow the same formula even in this world.

  One of the nice things about Angus coming to visit in the mornings was that he had figured out a way to line everything in my surrounding with small flames that produced no heat, but would allow me to see the area around me. Granted, I couldn’t see small details in the environment, or read, but it was nice to occasionally be able to stand up and walk around on my own to stretch my legs since so much of my time recently was spent seated for my own safety. Another benefit to him doing this was that I could finally get a general idea of what he looked like. He was almost a full head taller than me, with short cut hair that, when I asked, he told me was bright red as opposed to the more orangish color I had imagined when I was previously told he was a redhead. It was difficult to make out his facial features due to the small flames making his face a bit blurry, but I could tell that he looked handsome and had a strong jaw. His frame was lean as opposed to stocky, but I could tell by the few times I had touched him, just how muscular he was. It was nice to finally be able to put a face, even if it was blurry, to the voice and name.

  Izzy had not been back since the day I had met her, unfortunately, because the king had sent word that she was to return to Aberling immediately for reasons Angus said he could not share with me at the time. It was a real shame too, I actually had enjoyed her bubbly, and somewhat mischievous, personality and had been looking forward to getting to know her better.

  Based on the distance from here to Aberling, she should be getting about halfway to the city by this point, assuming I understand the speed of horse drawn carriages correctly. I hope her journey hasn’t been too uncomfortable.

  I hear Mrs. Finnley go quiet and after a full minute of silence, I can imagine her eyes boring into me, expectantly.

  Realizing what she is waiting on, I stand up behind the desk, accidentally knocking my chair over. I make my way gently to the left side of the desk and give a small curtsy while keeping my eyes level with the general area that she was standing in.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Finnly, for the valuable lesson on dining and conversational etiquette. I look forward to further learning the pearls of wisdom of which can be imparted to one such as myself.” I say without a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

  I curtsy once more.

  “Hmph.” I hear her scoff before gathering her things and making her way out of the room.

  A second after Mrs. Finnley exits, I hear the door open again before a familiar voice speaks up.

  “Lady Biera,” I hear Mary say. “It is time for dinner.”

  I smile at Mary and hold out my hand toward her, waiting for her to take me to the smaller dining room that my mother preferred when we don’t have guests. I hear her come over and feel her soft had grasp mine and I begin to follow as she carefully guides me to where my mother awaits.

  I know my mother is going to want to discuss my lessons for the day with me and I dread having to recount what all I had learned from Mrs. Finnley to her, in part due to my lack of attention to the subject matter, as well as the displeasure that I imagine she will have as a result.

  As we reach the dining room, I pull gently on Mary’s hand and we pause. I sigh to myself before steeling myself for what it to come. I nod to Mary and she opens the door, leading me into the room and to my seat at the table.