To Artemisia’s relief, her dance with Martin der Moritz went by without any foot stomping. It was surprisingly easy to talk with him.
We were just acquaintances according to what I’ve been told, but it feels like we’re closer than that. Is it the way he talks, or the man himself? He reminds me of someone…
A metal hallway. A man in overalls jogging down it towards me, his arm outstretched. The relief you feel when seeing a good friend after a long time. He opens his mouth and calls out a name—
“Lady Artemisia! Are you alright?” Martin held her upper arms, his expression concerned. “You’ve gone awfully pale all of a sudden!”
“I…” What did I just remember?
“I think you should sit down. Come on.” Martin guided her away from the dance floor. Curious eyes followed the two of them, and whispers flew amongst the attendees.
“I heard there was an incident a little while ago.”
“I thought she had recovered!”
“Did she push herself so she could attend the crown princess’ gathering?”
“She always causes a scene of some sort, doesn’t she?”
Artemisia was too withdrawn into herself to notice, but Martin looked sternly around on her behalf. His stony gaze was enough to make several whisperers look away and change the subject.
That was a memory of mine – the original me, before I became Artemisia. Dancing with Martin triggered it somehow. Who was that man? A friend of mine, I think, but also… a coworker? I think we worked together. And where were we? That hallway…
“Lady Artemisia? Artemisia!”
“Oh!” Artemisia jolted back to reality. They were no longer in the ballroom, but in the corridor outside. Martin had a hand on her shoulder. “Uh… sorry…”
“Don’t worry,” Martin replied. “Countess Plisen has gone ahead to find an empty powder room for you.”
“Awesome,” Artemisia said weakly. She formed her hands into fists to stop them from shaking, and a storm cloud of a headache was brewing at the horizon of her mind. I had friends before… I wonder what happened to them? Do they miss me, back on Earth? How did I die?
Why can’t I get over this? I should be adapting to my new situation, not lingering on my past! And yet… I feel like there’s something I’m missing, something that will make this all make sense. Perhaps if I remember my past, I’ll remember what story I’m in and what’s to come.
Whilst Artemisia let her thoughts run wild, Countess Plisen returned, and alongside Martin escorted Artemisia to an empty powder room with a large mirror on one wall. When Artemisia saw her reflection, she had to look away.
It wasn’t because she looked pasty and haunted, with wide, scared eyes. It was the fact that seeing that red hair and those teal eyes reminded her that this was not truly her body. Even her hands in her gloves felt wrong. They were too small, too delicate.
“Can you get me a glass of water?” Artemisia asked Martin, who immediately left.
“Come, lie down here,” Countess Plisen said, indicating a low settee, and kneeling at Artemisia’s side as she did so. “How are you feeling?”
Artemisia opened her mouth to automatically say I’m alright before closing it before the words passed her lips. She twiddled her thumbs. “I think I’m just a little tired.”
The countess frowned. “Did Lord Martin say anything to upset you?”
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“No,” Artemisia said, furrowing her eyebrows. “Why?”
“Oh, I wanted to make sure, that’s all.”
“He had nothing to do with it.” Well, he did actually, but it wasn’t his fault.
“I understand. Perhaps you simply pushed yourself too hard, too soon.”
“I…” Artemisia sighed. Oh great, now everyone’s going to treat me like an invalid again. But what other excuse can I give? Sorry, just had some of my memories return… oh. I’m an idiot.
Wait, but I’m keeping it a secret that I’ve (supposedly) lost my memories. I think? I don’t feel like having it be common knowledge, at least. Ugh, this is such a mess. I wanna go home!
At that moment, Martin re-entered the room, holding a pitcher of water and a glass.
Artemisia gave her thanks and tried to pour the water herself, but Martin insisted on doing it for her.
“You’re still shaking a little, I wouldn’t want you to spill water all over your dress,” he said. “Also, I took the liberty of sending for a carriage.”
“What?!” Artemisia said, nearly choking on a mouthful of water.
“I thought you would wish to return home if you’re not feeling well.”
“I’ll be alright, I just need a moment!” Hey, don’t decide that for me! Even though I just said it, I don’t want to go home now!
Countess Plisen laid a hand on Artemisia’s shoulder. “Dear girl, you shouldn’t push yourself. It will only come back to bite you in the future, and I say that from experience.”
“It was only a funny turn,” Artemisia protested. “I promise, I’ll be fine.”
“Really, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Countess Plisen said sternly. “Go home, Lady Artemisia, for our sake if not your own. I wouldn’t be able to settle for the rest of the evening.”
Artemisia sipped at her water sulkily. I think I have about a forty percent chance of convincing her. Is it worth it?
Someone knocked on the door, and Martin went to answer it. “Your Highness!” he gasped, bowing.
Immediately, Artemisia and the countess scrambled to their feet to curtsey.
“Oh, sit down, sit down! You’re not well!” Princess Sissi swept into the room, immediately rushing to Artemisia and taking her by the hands. “Are you alright? You gave us an awful scare!”
“I’m fine, thank you Your Highness,” Artemisia said awkwardly. How am I supposed to sit down when you’re holding my hands? “I felt unwell for a moment, that’s all.”
“That’s good. It felt right coming to check on you myself, instead of sending a servant. I hope I’m not troubling you.”
“Oh, uh! No, not at all! But… shouldn’t you be in the ballroom? You are the host, after all.”
“Ah, Mother and Father stepped in to say hello, and Theo stayed behind, so I can afford to sneak away for a moment.”
“The Empress is in attendance?!” Countess Plisen jolted to attention.
“Only for a moment,” Princess Sissi said.
“Oh, I should really go to pay my respects,” Countess Plisen said with a guilty look at Artemisia. “But it would be rude of me to abandon my post…”
“It’s alright.” Artemisia waved her hand towards the countess. “Go, I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, and I am here, am I not?” the crown princess said with a hint of superiority.
“Very well, but I will return as soon as I can, to see you to your carriage.” Countess Plisen curtseyed again and departed the room.
“Are you leaving?” Princess Sissi asked.
“I called a carriage for her, as I thought it would be best for her to return home if she was unwell,” Martin interjected.
The crown princess seemed to register that Martin was there for the first time, turning to look at him. “I see. And how do you feel, Lady Artemisia?”
“I… um…” If I tell her I want to stay, I’m sure she’ll overrule the others. But… do I actually want to? I guess I wanted to dance with Duke von Loambarn, and see if I could scope out some more major characters or plot points. I think I’ve lost my energy, though. I can’t say the thought of going back into the ballroom appeals to me.
“Struggling to make up your mind?” Princess Sissi asked. “If I was in your shoes, I’d not want to leave and miss the fun, but it would feel a little embarrassing to head back into the room where I’ve just made a scene.”
Woah, see right through me much? And did I really make a scene? It wasn’t a huge deal… right?
“I know!” She clapped her hands together. “You should stay here tonight!”
“Pardon?”
Artemisia stared at Princess Sissi as if she had just suggested that she return to the ballroom stark naked. “But – but! I couldn’t cause such trouble!”
“It would be no trouble at all!” the crown princess exclaimed, apparently delighted with her idea. “We normally end up hosting some of the guests overnight anyway whenever there is an evening event at the palace, so there are already bedrooms prepared, and you could join me for breakfast in the morning to make up for missing the ball! Oh, it would be perfect!”
