Princess carried herself with marked difference throughout her daily routine, acutely aware that my gaze lingered over her every action. Her conversational prowess faltered, and she shunned any topic that might cast her as vain, arrogant, or frivolous—traits that had earned her my teasing moniker. Conversations concerning my passing, still the court’s favored subject, were handled with far less reverence, and she refrained from praising my memory, even when prompted. There was no need for such rudeness.

  Communication between us was limited to fleeting words whenever her eyes caught a reflective surface—a window, a polished goblet, a still pond, or even the eyes of others if we were close enough. Through these glimpses, I managed to convey brief messages, to which she would occasionally respond with an irritated murmur for me to stay quiet. It was a frustrating, yet necessary, experiment to test the limits of our shared body.

  Her demeanor toward her sisters had noticeably cooled. Rascal, in particular, was met with rejection at every turn. She rebuffed well-meaning suggestions with undue harshness and went so far as to berate her younger sibling when she suggested they share a bath. Such behavior was reprehensible. My frustration culminated in a stern lecture directed at a reflective plaque on a painting commemorating a distant relative as we were passing.

  “Is that how you treat your grieving sister? I am appalled, Princess. She suffers as well.”

  “Oh, shut up. What do you know?” she was equally brutal in her retort. “It doesn’t even count. You’re not really dead.”

  “She does not know that!” I pressed. “What do you gain from such petty cruelty? Here I am, tasting the world beyond my room for the first time, and I cannot even savor it. Reconnect with your sisters; find joy in their company, as you did just yesterday.”

  Princess suddenly stopped and faced a window, a furious, insincere smile creeping up her otherwise stunning visage. “Don’t you even pretend that’s why you care! You want to know why I told her I wouldn’t bathe with her again? Because of you, you stupid cripple! You’d be watching us! Do you think I would allow that? Keep dreaming.”

  The de Irchard sisters bathed far more often than necessary for my sake. Due to my known ability to develop severe, adverse reactions to seemingly random factors, Fermina, Princess, and Rascal washed quite thoroughly at least every other day. It seemed like a relaxing, pleasurable activity, much in contrast with the degrading experience I went through at the hands of others. Throughout the years, it must have been embedded into their routine by now.

  “You are actively making life less enjoyable for us both. Remembering just yesterday, being able to relish the simplest activities, today was far inferior in comparison. I would venture to call it dull. Your prudish shame is, quite frankly, counterproductive.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Yeah, you would say that!” she sarcastically quipped, skeptical of my motives.

  “I am not referring to bathing, specifically,” I clarified. “How about other leisurely pursuits? Singing? Conversing? Reading? If you wish to remain filthy throughout my stay, that is your prerogative.”

  Princess left the window and resumed her stroll. “Oh, I am going to bathe. Today, in fact. Eyes closed, start to finish, by the way,” she haughtily, even teasingly said. “And about the other things, I don’t feel like doing anything!” she triumphantly giggled. “This is my life. If you don’t like it, hurry up and find a way out of me.”

  I was able to sneak in a response before the glass was too distant. “Evening is approaching, may I remind you.”

  The implication stopped her dead in her tracks. Princess raised her skirts and returned to the windows in a jog. “We don’t know if you’ll get control again! Even if you do, this is my body, not yours! I don’t want you anywhere near my sisters!”

  “Understood,” I gracefully acquiesced. “It might be a shame, but I have other plans while we wait for the funds to buy the books, regardless.”

  “Such as?” she pressed, furrowing her brow.

  “Where to begin!” I started my excited narration. “Through your mouth, I have tasted flavors previously unknown! Ah, I must go to the kitchens and repeat that experience! The taste of meat is so… distinct! Delectable. Wonder how the savoriness of each variety compares?”

  “Don’t even joke about that!” she sibilated, pursing her lips. “Do you have any idea of how you would look eating in my body?” she shuddered at the mental image. “You would look like a starving dog.”

  “I would be care-”

  “You wouldn’t,” she inconsiderately interrupted. “No, Dubart. You can’t; I would never survive the shame.”

  “Very well,” I acquiesced, my irritation faintly deepening. “In that case, I shall embrace the chance to engage in stimulating discourse with my father’s distinguished court, whom, I have observed, you tend to avoid. I have scarcely exchanged words with anyone but you three. It is an opportunity I look forward to seizing.”

  “No… wait, Dubart, you can’t…” Princess seemed almost apologetic, in contrast with her recently bitter behavior. “I’m not that… well-liked by people, to be honest,” she looked away from the glass in shame and sighed. “I can’t let you do that. It would be so awkward.”

  With a measured exhale, she returned her attention to me, as though granting me the floor. “Princess, surely you realize this places me in a most difficult position, do you not?” I softened my voice, acknowledging the sincerity that had replaced her earlier pettiness. “I wish to accommodate you, yet it is possible that I shall soon depart from this world. This might very well be my final opportunity to savor what others refer to as ‘life’. Words fail me in capturing the depth of its meaning. Why not spend this time with your sisters, reveling in their company?”

  “Because…!” Princess’s voice flared with passion but faltered abruptly. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t want to be with them right now. Back when we woke up, when we turned to see Riatna half-dressed, I felt… n-no. Nevermind.” She shook her head. “Fine, we’ll go do something fun.”

  “Thank you!” My gratitude was heartfelt. “May I inquire what you have in mind?”

  “Painting.”

  full story:

  Amazon

  Apple Books

  Barnes & Noble

  Everand

  Fable

  Kobo

  The Palace

  Smashwords

  Thalia

  Vivlio

  Audiobook now available! Fully voiced for each character! Featuring sound effects:

  Barnes & Noble

  Google Play

  Kobo, Walmart

  Storytel

  Apple