I've barely closed my eyes in my quiet apartment when the world begins to shift. The silence of my room is broken by a persistent, high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like my alarm clock.
"My Lady! Please, wake up! My Lady, the sun is high and your father is already asking for you!"
I groan, pulling the blanket over my head. "Mmm... let me sleep," I mumble into the pillow. "It's Sunday, mom. It's my holiday. Just five more minutes,... let me sleep a little more."
There is a sudden, terrifying gasp from the side of the bed. "S-Sunday? Holiday? My Lady, what are you saying? Are you feeling unwell? Should I call the physician?"
The confusion in the voice finally pieces my sleepy brain. Wait... My Lady? My family doesn't call me 'My Lady.'
I sit up abruptly, the heavy, expensive silk of the duvet sliding off my shoulders. The smell of dust and coffee is gone, replaced by the scent of fresh roses and expensive perfume. I'm not in my cramped apartment. I'm back in the massive, glamorous bedroom of the Valerius palace.
I look at the maid, who is trembling with a look of pure shock. I realize my mistake instantly—they are afraid of my changing behavior or maybe the punishments, they will receive.
"My Lady, please," the maid whispers, her eyes wide. "The Duke is waiting. You know he doesn't tolerate excuses in the morning!"
My heart begins to thump. The "peaceful" life was over. I'm back in the golden cage, and the strict rules of the Duke are waiting for me at the breakfast table once again.
My heart hammers against my ribs as the reality of the palace settled back over me. The confusion of my "holiday" has vanished, replaced by the cold memory of the Duke's strict schedule.
"I have to move, throwing back the silk covers. If I'm late, he'll make my life a nightmare, and I've worked too hard to build my confidence to let him crush it now." I tell myself.
I stand up, and immediately, the maids move in like a well-oiled machine. They lead me to the bathing chamber, where the water is already steaming and scented with expensive oils. They wash my skin and hair with practiced, silent movements. I feel like a doll being prepared for a display, but I don't fight it—I know that I need to be perfect for the meeting at the table.
They make me sit down in front of the vanity. One maid begins to brush out Elanore's long, glowing hair, pinning it into an intricate style that feels heavy on my head. Another begins to fasten cold, heavy jewelry around my neck and wrists. Every diamond feels like a reminder of the weight I've to carry as Elanore.
As they tighten the laces of my dress, I take a deep breath, looking at myself in the ornate mirror. The tired office worker is gone. Everything is happening as the previous day.
Finally, the head maid steps back and bows. "You are ready, My Lady. We are exactly on time."
I nod, my face becoming a mask of calm, professional grace. "Good," I say, trying to make it steady and calm as before. "Let's not keep my father waiting."
The heavy oak doors of the breakfast hall looms before me. As the attendant shouts my name to announce my arrival, I feel a cold shiver run down my spine. The "Office Sara" who was so confident yesterday feels small again. I take a deep breath, clutching my silk dress.
"Survive, you need to survive. Sara." I tell myself .
I step inside, but the room feel little different today. Usually, I was ignored, but now the air is thick with attention. Her mother is glaring at me with those sharp, judging eyes, and for the first time, my brother Orlando isn't looking at his plate—he was staring directly at me, searching for a flaw.
"You are late," my father's remarks with a cold and sharp voice. "Five minutes, Elanore. My schedule does not change for your convenience."
I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. I remember how I've been sleeping on my bed just moments ago. I look at my father, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
"I am sorry, Father," I reply, my voice echoing in the silent hall. "I was... occupied with my preparations. I wanted to ensure I was presentable, as you always say that my appearance represents the family. I got a little caught up in the details."
I sit down but my heart is still racing. Orlando leans forward, his eyes narrowing as if he is looking at a stranger. He doesn't look annoyed like he usually does; he looks suspicious.
"Preparations?" Orlando asks with doubt. "Since when do you care about being 'presentable' for a family breakfast? Usually, you just stumble in here looking like you've been crying. Something is different about you today, sister."
I try to keep the conversation light, hoping to distract them from my lateness. I notice the table is unusually clear of the Duke's constant paperwork.
"You aren't buried in your documents today, Father," I say, trying to sound casual. "Is something wrong, or are you feeling unwell?"
The Duke doesn't look touch by my concern. Instead, he looks at me with a stiff, formal expression. "Today we are expecting a very important visitor. I have cleared my morning to prepare for his arrival. As for my documents, I have already finished the urgent matters."
Orlando lets out a sharp, mocking laugh from across the table. "Did you really forget, Elanore? Or is your memory as 'clumsy' as your feet used to be?"
I feel a knot of cold dread in my stomach. "Who is coming today?" I asks with a steady voice despite my racing heart. "How am I supposed to know every visitor my father receives?"
My father looks startled and looks at me. I can't figure out the reason. Is he shocked because I forget someone important? Or is it something else?
Orlando leans forward, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "How can you forget the man you are supposed to marry? Your fiancé is arriving today. Don't tell me you've forgotten his face already. You always admired him and now... Well, You are acting strange today. Usually you always address our father as Duke but from yesterday you had been addressing him as 'father'? Shouldn't you stop your little game now! "
I start to think, 'Oh,So that's the reason, I understand now. But what? A fiancé? The maids didn't inform me anything about this . This is a disaster. I need an excuse.'
"I... I am still not feeling quite like myself," I say, touching my temple as if I've a headache. "My memory is still a bit blurred after my fall. Sometimes I even forget my own passwords—I mean, my own personal details. Everything feels a bit hazy."
Orlando's eyes sharpen. He doesn't look like he believes my story. The Duchess, who has been silent until now, finally looks up from her tea, her eyes cold and piercing.
The Duchess finally set her teacup down with a sharp clack that echoed through the hall. Her eyes were like ice as she looks at me.
"You should mind your manners, Elanore," she says, her voice dripping with venom. "You are not behaving well at all. Perhaps I have been too lenient with you. I should arrange a strict instructor to fix your behavior before you bring shame to this noble house in front of your fiancé."
Orlando doesn't miss the chance to twist the knife. "I agree, Mother. She's become completely mannerless—behaving like a commoner who has forgotten her rank and her duties. She needs to be taught her place before she forgets who she is entirely."
I feel a flash of "Office Sara" anger. In my real world, this would be considered workplace bullying! I look at my father, hoping for some support, but the Duke is just watching the scene with a cold, distant expression, as if he is watching a play he finds mildly interesting.
"Enough of this nonsense," the Duke finally responds, silencing the table. "Finish your breakfast. Elanore, you will go and prepare immediately. I will not have our guest greeted by a daughter who looks disheveled or acts confused."
I push my plate away, my appetite is completely gone. What is going on? I kerp thinking, my mind spinning. First a fiancé I don't know, then the threat of a 'strict instructor,' and now I have to get ready for a man I can't even remember?
I stand up, giving a stiff, formal bow. "As you wish, Father."
As I walk out of the hall, I can feel Orlando's eyes burning into my back. I don't know how to handle this, my hands trembling slightly as I reach my bedroom door. If I say the wrong thing, Orlando will catch me. If I act too differently, the 'Instructor' will come and lock me away. I am walking into this blind.
I feel a wave of nausea. The glamour of the palace is gone; it feels like a trap closing in on me. I'm terrified that this is the moment I'll finally fail and expose myself as an impostor.
I lean against the door, taking deep, shaky breaths. I have to find a way to get information, and I have to do it before the carriage arrived at the palace . I know that I need to find my maid, Lily immediately, whom I befriended yesterday. I need to know the name of this fiancé before I walk into a trap.