CHAPTER FOUR #2
“Your home won’t survive much longer if you don’t help it,” Donya said with hideous bluntness.
I looked at my hands. I didn’t want to let Donya down. But if I tried to do something so far outside my capabilities, I’d only let her down later, when the stakes were much higher. “I … I …”
“I’m very sorry, but you don’t have a choice at the moment,” Donya said. “It’s unlikely the princess will be able to swap you back right away. A powerful gift generally takes a lot out of the user.”
“How long?” I asked, panic making my voice more strident.
“I don’t know. Body-swapping gifts are only legend. I thought I overheard the footman telling you that the princess is still asleep.”
I nodded. I’d asked as soon as we got back.
“We’ll have to at least wait for her to wake up.
And it will take her time after that to build up her strength.
Who knows how long? Furthermore, there’s almost always a distance limit on gifts.
The duchess in your body is currently outside the city.
If she comes back, then it will be possible to swap you two.
But if she decides to leave the kingdom, you’ll probably be out of luck. ”
I whimpered. “Why would she do that?” Surely the duchess must want to swap back even more than me.
“From her perspective, an enemy just stole her body. It would be foolish for her to head into the territory controlled by that enemy. She’ll probably seek out allies in her home country.”
I moaned.
“I’ll send out guards right away to look for the duchess in your body, if you give me the authority.”
“Yes—you can have all the authority you want. I’ll order everyone to obey you as me. Just get my body back!”
Donya’s face turned uneasy. “No one will believe that unless we come up with a decent excuse. I suppose I can pretend you threatened me into working for you. Even so, you’ll need to make some appearances.”
“Find my body … please …”
“I’ll make it top priority,” Donya said. “We can’t have the duchess telling anyone else about the swap. If people believe her, you’ll be arrested.”
I hadn’t even been thinking about that. I moaned even longer and more pitifully.
Donya exhaled. “I definitely don’t want you to think I’m threatening you, so please don’t take it that way, but it would be a very bad idea for you to leave the protection of the palace.
The Blood Duchess has many enemies. Many, many enemies.
In fact, there’s an entire assassin organization founded by her victims for the sole purpose of killing her.
Twelve assassins with personal grudges against her trained for years to take revenge.
The organization is funded by countless other people who’ve lost loved ones to her murderous rampages.
My spies inform me that they’ve taken the duchess leaving her country as an opportunity. The Twelve Avengers are on the move.”
That was a scary-sounding name. I stared at my hands. “So I have no choice but to pretend to be the duchess.”
“I’m afraid so.” Donya looked sincerely sorry.
“You’ll help me?” I whispered, trying not to cry again.
Donya gripped my hand. “I’ll look after you like my own little sister. I promise.”
Yep. I was in the best friend’s kid-sister box.
Donya took charge immediately, and I was more than happy to tell the palace steward to take orders from her.
We both agreed that I should speak as little as possible.
Donya sent her most trusted guards looking for the real Duchess Hedri with strict orders to capture her unharmed.
She also told everyone that “Miss Bora” had fallen under a spell of madness and might babble nonsense about being someone else.
Then she took me to the duchess’s bedroom and arranged for dinner to be sent there.
The bedroom was ridiculously big. I could fit an entire cottage in there.
In addition to an enormous bed, there was a desk, a makeup vanity, and a breakfast table.
The walk-in closet alone was larger than my bedroom back home.
Everything looked golden yellow, from the walls to the pale silk carpet to the decorations on the baseboard.
The ceiling had some poofy cloth square hanging directly over the bed.
I had no idea what that was for but it sure did look fancy, with a chandelier hanging from the middle and diamonds decorating the square.
The bed had a quilted headboard and a dozen different pillows.
What did rich people need so many pillows for?
A sweet floral scent filled the room. At first, I thought it came from the pockets of flowers on the walls, but on closer look the petals were made of cloth.
It must come from the scent packets hanging in the corners.
My head hurt. This super-tall lacy hat had been fastened to my hair with entirely too many pins. As I pulled them out, I tried not to look at the full-length mirror next to the dresser. But my eyes kept getting drawn back there.
The woman staring back at me had the majestic height and waist-length blonde hair I’d longed for when I’d been the only dark-skinned girl in my small country village. She was heavier than me, and I had emotions I didn’t want to feel about that. This new body was hitting all my old insecurities.
There had been a time when I’d dyed my hair, tried (and failed) to force it straight, and stuck a finger down my throat after meals to throw them up.
My body and I had gone to war, and we’d both lost. One day, I’d gotten tired of hating myself so much and decided to stop listening to the mean voices both inside my head and out of it.
It hadn’t been nearly that easy. I’d spent years getting comfortable with my body.
These days, I could look at myself in the mirror without flinching.
If I didn’t smile at the sight of myself, then at least I didn’t cry at it either.
But now I had a new reflection, and it was throwing me off-balance.
I threw the hat down on the floor. Then I took the mirror off the wall and carried it into the closet. Tomorrow, I’d order someone to take it away. A duchess could do that, right?
Among other orders, Donya had instructed the staff to bring me dinner. A tempting smell drifted off the spread of food on the oak table: roast chicken, green beans, pigeon eggs, fig pudding, and a tiny array of cakes on a golden stand. My stomach rumbled. I sat down and dug in.
The first bite of chicken tasted crispy and perfect. Damn, rich people ate well. I should savor these delicacies. But instead, I just kept eating faster.
My hands went wild, reaching for the food in front of me.
It felt as if I were watching this scene from a distance, a giant woman gorging herself.
I’d become a passenger riding along in this foreign body.
I barely paid attention to the taste as I shoveled food into my mouth.
My stomach became bloated. (It wasn’t my stomach, so why should I care?) Heartburn rose up my throat.
I could taste nothing but a burning sensation.
There was no pleasure from this food, but I couldn’t stop.
It didn’t matter that I no longer felt hunger. Hedri’s body had control, not me.
When I returned to awareness, I’d eaten every last bit of food down to the crumbs that had fallen off the cakes. Oh no. That had been enough dessert to feed an entire dinner party! I’d eaten it all by myself!
My stomach rolled. Shame overwhelmed me.
A disgusting coat of crumbs went from my lips all the way to my chin.
As I brushed them off, it felt even more strange and revolting because the face didn’t feel like my own.
I hated that stupid double chin. I hated this body.
I hated myself. I deserved to hate myself.
Why had I done that? Why hadn’t I stopped?
I’d lost control, and it scared me. In the space of just a day, my body had been stolen, and I’d been thrust into the middle of a national crisis.
I didn’t know what to do except go along with Donya’s instructions.
I was terrified of stepping wrong and causing people to die—including myself.
My own head was definitely on the chopping block.
Already I had no control over what happened to me, and to top it off, I’d lost control of my own actions, too.
I felt so stupid and worthless. I gasped.
More tears fell down my face. And that damn ugly chin wouldn’t stop wobbling!
My nausea felt like a lance piercing straight into my side. I felt like I might throw up. But wouldn’t it be better if I could throw up? Then all that revolting, fattening food wouldn’t be inside my body any longer. I could erase this mistake.
I ran to the bathroom and stuck a finger down my throat.
The rings on my new hand cut the roof of my mouth, sending an iron taste dripping down. The pain felt like a deserved punishment. At the same time, it jolted me back to awareness. Ashamed, I withdrew my hand. I’d made a vow to stop doing that—the binge eating and the throwing up afterward.
This was the duchess’s body. Who cared if it gained weight? I wasn’t going to take up permanent residence in here. I couldn’t possibly be stuck like this. Just the thought made me feel ill.
My senses restored, I changed into a nightgown and headed to bed. (It didn’t count, what I’d just done. It had been someone else’s body. I had gotten better. I wasn’t weak. Over and over again, I told myself that.)
As soon as I lay down, my stomach acids decided to throw a parade. I groaned and rolled to my side, trying and failing to get comfortable.
A sudden blast of cold air struck my face. The window hung open. When had that happened? Ugh, I didn’t need to feel even worse right now. I swung my legs over the bed, preparing to stand and close it.
“Not one step forward.” A sword touched my throat. A raspy voice whispered, “Duchess Hedri, you killed my parents. Prepare to die.”