CHAPTER SIX
Warm lips pressed against mine. I moaned. This was a nice dream. “Don … ya … ?” I murmured, reaching up to touch her face.
I felt a man’s goatee. My eyes flew open. I stared at a close-up of Falael’s face.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I shoved with all my might.
Fortunately, the duchess was quite strong. Falael flew into the wall. With his legs still over his head, he cried, “What was that for?”
My pulse racing, I yanked my sheets up to my neck. Falael was the duchess’s lover! How could I have forgotten about that? It explained why he had a key to her room.
Hey … did this mean I could dump Falael? I never got to dump him the first time because he ran away to a foreign country. Now I’d finally be able to give him the dumping he deserved!
“Get out,” I snarled, pointing at the door.
“We’re over. I would tell you to go fuck yourself, but I’m certain you’d be disappointed.
You’ll never be the man your mother is. If you’re looking for a new profession besides sponging off me, I suggest the army—your face is more lethal than an enchanted sword.
” I had a lot of insults toward Falael stored up.
I’d been fantasizing about this moment for years.
I’d even written down all those insults in my diary a few dozen times.
“Oh, I see you’re in one of those moods,” Falael said, dusting off his pants.
His nonchalance unnerved me. “Show your smarmy face in my room again, and I’ll have you horsewhipped.” Now that sounded properly ducal! I was starting to get the hang of being nobility.
Falael smirked. “My dear Hedri, we both know you’ll call me back after you start longing for me again. No one else could ever love someone as fat as you.”
My breath caught. It felt like I’d been punched in my solar plexus.
Falael had said things like that to me countless times.
I wouldn’t place the sole blame on him for why I’d started throwing up my food, but he’d been a large factor.
My head spun. Stomach acid clawed up my throat.
Even after so long, he still held the power to hurt me? I hated it. I hated him.
As Falael walked toward the door, I called after him, “I mean it! I’m done with you!”
“Like you’ve never said that before,” he called over his shoulder as he left.
Argh! My long-desired dumping had been completely ruined! He had refused to be dumped!
If I remained persistent long enough, maybe he’d get the picture. But I didn’t want to be stuck re-dumping my asshole ex until Antonia swapped my body back. I’d only wanted the satisfaction of one time before I booted him out of my life forever. Now what was I going to do?
Falael became a youthful mistake even harder to justify when I looked at what he’d become.
In retrospect, he’d always been arrogant, but when I’d been a teenager, that had seemed like confidence.
My siblings were the only half-Conollians, and Falael was the only half-elf in our village, so it had felt like we had a shared connection based on both being outsiders.
Later, I’d realized the true source of our connection was that I had the most money of all the young ladies in the village, and Falael had wanted to separate me from it.
I’d grown up so poor I rarely had enough to eat.
When I’d been eight, Ysabel developed her extremely rare healing gift, and our father illegally sold her to an organized crime boss.
He’d quickly wasted all the money. My parents fought constantly, but after that they’d both started hitting each other.
My mother had spent days in bed, delegating all the housework and childcare to me and my older brother, Calum.
After Ysabel became the Holy Maiden, she started sending money home, enough for us to go from nothing to practically country nobility.
We received a new house and private tutors.
The money came with strings—Ysabel owned the house and her tutors served as spies to make certain our parents didn’t abuse us.
A smart decision that I completely understood.
She’d been wise to keep the money from directly landing in our father’s hands, where it would soon be gone.
Instead, she’d arranged trusts for each of her siblings, more than enough for each of us to purchase a business or establish ourselves in any way we desired.
I’d moved out as soon as I was able to access my trust. I’d let both Falael and my best friend move in with me rent-free.
I’d been convinced by Falael to invest all of my money into his supposed lumber business.
I only found out the business never existed after he and my former friend ran off to Sherda together.
That same friend later wrote to me saying he’d dumped her for a wealthier woman.
She thought that made us friends again, but I disagreed.
Since then, Falael had social climbed all the way up to a duchess.
At least teenage me had been scammed by someone very good at it.
When I was forced to move back in with my parents, I’d lied to Ysabel, saying that I needed to look after our sick mother.
It was easy to deceive her when we only ever communicated by letters.
Ysabel never went home. She had some sense of duty toward providing for her younger siblings, but I doubted she had any fond memories of the family who’d sold her into illegal slavery. Who could blame her?
Although my first instinct was to rely on Donya for help again, I couldn’t tell her the truth about what had happened between me and Falael.
I’d drop dead of mortification if the story ever made its way to my big sister.
It wouldn’t be fair to ask Donya to keep it a secret when she was closer to Ysabel than me.
Surely I could handle one loser on my own. If even someone like Falael made me feel helpless, how was I ever going to make it as the Blood Duchess?
While I was thinking, I went back to sleep. I’d spent too much time around people lately. People even kept interrupting me in bed! It was deeply draining.
I woke up to shouting and people rushing down the hallway. An unfamiliar voice cried, “Princess Antonia has awoken! Summon the royal doctor!”
Running to the door, I flung it open still wearing my pale pink shift. “That’s great news. How is she—?”
A footman and a maid stared at me in my underthings. Then they dropped to the floor and hid their faces in their hands. “Please don’t kill us!” they wailed in unison.
“Um, no, that was my mistake.” Oh no, it probably wasn’t in character for the duchess to apologize.
“Um. Muhahahaha! You have fulfilled my exhibitionist fantasies. You have done well, now get back to finding a doctor.” I slammed the door before they had time to look up and see my face flushed scarlet.
Whoa, that had been awful acting. I collapsed on the bed, panting.
My hair fell over my face. Seeing the pale strands instead of black made me flinch.
I felt out of sorts, too tall, all wrong.
I wanted to check up on the princess, but I needed to get dressed first. Not only did I need to make certain she was all right, but my goal of getting my body back had just acquired a deadline. I really, really hoped this was reversible.
A knock sounded on my door. “I’m here to help you get dressed for the princess’s coronation,” Aracelli called.
“Help me?” I stared blankly.
“Most nobles have someone to assist them.”
I yanked up my covers again. “I’m fine, thank you!”
“It’s not as though I want to,” Araceli said in a bored voice.
I got up and opened the walk-in closet, ignoring the mirror with a sheet draped over it.
As much as I despised the duchess, I had to admit she had a lot of pretty dresses.
Even if she was a tad overenthusiastic about plastering all of them with metal and jewels.
I stared at the rows upon rows of dresses.
What would be appropriate for a coronation?
I had no idea. I only knew I’d be humiliated if I picked wrong.
“Um, what did the duchess plan to wear to the coronation?”
“She’d been considering a couple options. May I come in and show you?”
“Yes, please.” I supposed Araceli had seen me in my nightgown last night, and on a regular basis as the duchess’s maid, but I still wrapped a sheet around myself.
Araceli bustled into the room. She gestured at a rack hanging in the back. “Duchess Hedri had set aside these dresses as possibilities for the coronation.”
A whole rack? The gems gleamed to the point where they dazzled my eyes. I gaped until Araceli took pity on me. “What color do you like?”
“Red is my favorite color,” I said.
“A good pick for your complexion, too—or rather your new complexion.” Araceli selected a bright red dress covered in small rubies. “What do you think?”
“Gosh, it’s pretty.” I stepped forward and took the dress. “Err, can you turn around?”
With a roll of her eyes, Araceli obeyed.
Lacing covered the back, and it took me ages to loosen it before I was able to pull the dress on. But I couldn’t figure out how to retie it. I couldn’t even reach. Eventually, I whispered, “Help.”
“Turn around and lift up your hair,” she said in a polite but firm way.
Mortified, I obeyed. I’d have liked to cover myself up, but there was too much exposed skin everywhere. I felt awkward as her hands moved over my back, lacing me up. She’d tried to kill me last night, which was part of my discomfort. Also, she was very pretty and smelled nice, like lavender.
“Shouldn’t we give the princess time to recover before trotting her out in front of a crowd?” I asked.
Her voice softened. “I spoke to her, she’s doing well. Countess Donya believes we’re at risk of more challengers to the throne if we don’t move fast.”
“Well, I can’t argue with Donya.” I gasped as she tightened up the laces.