What is my name?

Lecil parted from Kly, waving.

=

Hidden Event Completed

Reward : +5% affection

=

Celia hadn't made a snowman since her childhood with the boy who lived next door. He moved away that summer, so she never got the chance again. Snow always slipped her mind as being something fun and magical rather than suffocating or disgusting. The snow in this world was more than it was back home. She had yet to see any slush or the gross muddy snow that lined the sidewalk. The puddles pooling pieces of thin ice. Black ice covering the road she skipped across. Snowballs that hurt and did real damage.

Lecil looked back at the pavilion. A tall, white figure standing watch. If she squinted, she could see a smaller form shadowed by its outline.

Would he object to a snowball fight?

That would be pressing her luck. It is entirely possible she wouldn't survive. Kly was a ruthless opponent. He even cheated with magic.

Celia decided to give up on recreating any more memories. It was an event. The percentage would definitely fall if she went back there, unaided by conditions during the event. Besides, it had been fun. Celia didn't ever encounter this event in-game, and it was a fun surprise.

"Irene. Thanks for the assistance with the carrots."

The maid beamed brightly, standing on Lecil's left.

"Of course, Princess. I am glad I could be of use."

Truthfully, Irene had been slightly livid at having to run all the way to the kitchen. But seeing the wholesome display on her return had washed away any grumblings she could muster. Being thanked helped her mood.

"I am not sure what to do for the rest of the day. I planned to go out again, but if Rain is on vacation, I suppose we should find something to do."

"There is a library in the west wing that you can browse. It has the largest collection in the kingdom next to the Grand Library."

"Hmm... I'm not really a huge reader. My eyes just end up drifting off the page. It was a problem growing up. Teachers expected me to read these huge textbooks and learn every word. I found out I retain much more knowledge when speaking about it in a group setting. It is all about delivery of information."

Lecil puffed out her chest, proud of the self-depricating statement.

Some of what the Princess stated made sense, but Irene clearly remembered Princess Lecil being the one to frequent the library most in her childhood. For some reason, she stopped, and Princess Anne took her place. Was it because she had trouble reading?

"How about having tea with Princess Anne? She meets with Prince Tristan around this time, but he will be busy today."

Lecil brightened. Was this her chance? To confront her sister after so long would be a real treat. Lecil had too much trouble finding her, always giving up after walking half the palace grounds. Trying to find a single person in the castle was like trying to find an orange in an apple orchard. The other staff never gave her any help, so Lecil only saw Anne at the occasional dinner, or when Anne confronted Lecil personally.

"Good idea, Irene! This is perfect. I haven't seen her in weeks."

=

It was strange living in a castle. The structure was less designed for defense and more for opulence, so the word "palace" suited it better. The entire place was larger than a football stadium. It was her home, and there were still places unexplored. Lecil couldn't remember ever visiting the parlor. Maybe with the Queen, but those memories were almost all gone with time.

Lecil rapped on the door herself. There were muffled words inside, then the door opened. Lecil stared into the face of a scowling maid. Had she been taking lessons from Tristan?

"Is my sister here? I heard she had tea here around this time. I thought I could join her."

The maid opened her mouth to say something, but a voice inside cut her off.

"Let her in Helda, you and the others can take the rest of the afternoon off."

"Yes, Princess."

The maid bowed, opening the door fully. Lecil waited for the four maids to trail out before entering. Irene closed the door behind her, joining the other maids outside.

The parlor was a soft place. Not too decorative, but definitely luxurious. The furniture was enough to hold several guests, a fireplace marking the left side of the room. What gave Lecil pause was the fact that this room held no windows and was completely ensealed by the palace walls. The only escape was the door she entered or up through the crackling fireplace.

The bright colors of the room offset the suffocating feeling Lecil got. Enough for her to breathe normally. The wallpaper was a bit tacky, but Lecil was getting used to it. Anne lounged at a table much like the one sitting in a pavilion outside. This one was made of sturdier wood and was a shade darker, emanating a different aura.

Anne wore a pale pink dress that reached down to her ankles. It looked sweltering to wear with all the frills and folds, but Anne wore it with grace. Lecil moved over to the table and sat down on the opposite chair, Anne watching her while sipping her tea.

2%

Lecil was the first to speak.

"This is a cozy place. I am surprised I've never seen it. Do you come here often?

Do you come here often? What sort of line is that? Are you in middle school?

Anne set down her tea. Refilling her own cup, adding two sugar cubes.

"Tristan and I meet here to talk every Tuesday. He was busy today."

"So I heard."

Gah! Way to make it awkward. She is your sister. Talk to her. Scold her. Compliment her. Something!

The silence afterward was incredibly uncomfortable. Lecil could feel herself sweat a little bit.

"Why are you here?"

Oh, thank god—an out.

"Irene told me you frequented this place, so I thought I'd join you."

Anne's finger tightened around the handle of the cup. She set it down with an audible clank.

"No. I mean to say, why are you still here. You should be off getting married. Why are you still here?"

Her voice was low and threatening. Anne looked up through her blond bangs at Lecil, blue eyes bearing down on her.

Lecil cursed internally. This wasn't a scheduled event or a hidden one. Lecil had no idea what to say. Best speak the truth.

"I didn't want to marry any of the Dukes. I thought I could be of use at home while I thought about my other options."

"Of use?"

Anne whispered.

"Of use!"

She practically shrilled.

"You are of no use. You do nothing. Create nothing. Inspire nothing. Learn nothing. How long have we tried to get you to grow up? To make you see the light of day. Yet, you still insist on hiding in your room like a blubbering child."

Lecil was blindsided. Where did this come from?

"I-"

Anne slammed her hands on the table and stood up, throwing her chair back.

"NO! You don't get to spout excuses anymore. You complained about embroidery because you kept pricking your fingers. You complained about mathematics because it made your head hurt. You complained about learning the sword because it made you sweaty and sore. Always an excuse to do less work."

"But-"

"But nothing! Do you have any idea how much of your slack I have to pick up? Meeting with foreign dignitaries. Supporting Tristan and Kly. Learning all the crafts a woman should know. You have no clue how exhausting it is to have countless men practically barging down my door for arranged marriages!"

Lecil rocketed to your feet.

"So your bragging about all you've accomplished? How men fawn over you at every occasion! Too many suitors. Too many choices. Boasting about your overwhelming talent?"

"You have no idea of the effort I've had to put in! To look pretty? To be the perfect princess! To constantly be weighed down by your inability and reluctance. Shackled to the Forgotten Princess."

"Did I not try all the things you mentioned? Did I not attempt every craft? Is it a crime to be talentless?"

"It is a crime to stop trying!"

Anne marched around the table, grabbing Lecil's hand.

"Let go."

"No, remove your glove and show me your hand."

"No."

"Do it!"

"No!"

"Fine."

Anne yanked the glove off Lecil. Throwing it away. Forcibly uncurling Lecil's fingers, Anne roared.

"Do you see how clean your hands are? No wear. No tear. No callouses, blisters, scars, or dried skin. Do you see my hand? Look!

"Pricks from needles, learning how to sow. A calloused on my thumb from holding a pen. A scar on my palm from cutting myself while cooking. My nails clipped short because they get in the way. Why do you get to hide your hands? "

"Oh, you couldn't stand that I had smooth skin, so you decided to color it?"

"I've been trying to get you to wake the fuck up! Stop acting like you are made of glass and learn to be useful! For once in your life, Lecil, don't be such a spoiled bitch."

Lecil smacked her hand away. Holding it, shaking.

"Go ahead and cry. Prove my point."

The shaking intensified. Fire burned. Lecil glanced up.

"Have I not tried? It is a crime to fail? To feel like I am useless? To be told, I am useless by everyone around me... To be told, I only have the talent to serve like my maid of a mother...

Why do I have to put up with this nonsense? I have tried all my life to be useful.

Lecil took a step forward, Anne taking a step back.

"Why do you get to judge me when I have tried everything to be accepted!"

The days of trying to find something she was good at. Something she could boast. Something to be proud of.

Sewing. Cooking. Fighting. Archery. Hunting. Mathematics. Engineering. Magic. Writing. Dancing. Singing. Politics. Trading. Aesthetics.

"I've tried everything to be loved!"

The disappointed eyes. Judgment and dismissal.

"You have no talent in swordsmanship, Princess. Quit."

"How can you be so useless at mathematics? Your younger sister is a genius."

"Can't you even hold the pen correctly?"

"I've never seen someone with three left feet before."

"Enough. That voice is atrocious."

"Frankly, your smile scares me."

Lecil wasn't smiling now.

Why do I have to deal with this shitty game?

Celia worked hard all her life. To please her parents. She got the best grades possible. Made the right friends. Was a part of the student council. She got a part-time job. Managed to get into a good college. Her parents were supportive, but only subjectively. When did they genuinely praise her?

"Only a B+? You can do better."

"Get off your games and start studying."

"You are going to be a doctor, so why did you accept this university? This is not a medical school."

Celia's parents were always demanding. Why must she be molded to fit their image? Why couldn't she play games in her off time? Why couldn't she hang out with certain friends? What was wrong with wanting to be a historian instead of a doctor?

Did they ever love me? I thought they did, but maybe I was just kidding myself. I can't even remember their faces anymore...

I want to go home.

I hate this place.

I miss my dog.

"You are useless, Lecil. You should have left when you had the chance."

Anne's words were softer than they had any right.

"MY NAME IS CELIA!"

The knife dug in too deep. It carved at her. Too much. What use was a family route if they didn't give two shits if she stayed or left. If she were to die on the curbside, would they laugh before walking away?

Celia crouched down, folding in on herself, holding the back of her head. Shivering. Cold. Isolated. Alone.

Two girls sat across from each other. Nearly identical. One perfectly sculpted and beautiful, but sporting bruises and scars. The other mirrored in appearance. The same hair. Same black eyes sparked with dark violet embers. Worn hands set their worlds apart. Hours of studying, holding a pen. Lifting stupid boxes at the convenience store. Turning dark from grime. Holding a wrench while working under a car.

"Where did we go wrong?"

"I was happy when I got accepted into that university."

"We were, weren't we?"

"I remember us playing with the Queen's hair."

"It was the brightest yellow. I thought it looked like cheese."

"It tasted nothing like it."

The two girls smiled grimly at each other. This was what they were—two wholes pretending to be a half.

"Do you think Anne knows now?"

"That we aren't Lecil anymore?"

"Maybe she misheard it."

"You screamed it at the top of your lungs."

"We did..."

"Perhaps it will work out."

"Does it matter?"

"I understand now, why I wanted to die."

"I do too."

"But it scares me."

"There is nothing but darkness and pain."

"Lets not go back."

"I agree."

"Then what do we do?"

"Should we wake up to reality?"

"Is there a point?"

"Anne is shaking us."

"Let her sweat."

"Don't be mean."

"She deserves it."

"She does."

"But you said we wouldn't play the victim again."

"Did we?"

"We thought it."

"It wasn't intentional."

"You can't play what you are."

"It hurts."

"I know."

"My bruises ache."

"It hurts to breathe at times."

"Because of Sallow."

"He wasn't the only one."

"Tristan and Anne."

"The staff."

"Do we deserve this?"

"No."

"But Anne's words are true. We are useless."

"We are..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Will we meet like this again?"

"Probably."

"I can see it happening."

"It happens in anime, doesn't it?"

"It's a sign we are broken."

"Maybe we can be fixed."

"Usually, one of us has to die."

"Or take the reins."

"Can't we both live?"

"Can't we both take the reins?"

"Mhm. I like that."

"Mhm. Me too."

"Alright. Lets go back."

"Alright. Lets go back."

=

"Celia! Celia!"

Anne shook her sister. She was tightly wound in a ball. Wet tears streaked her face. Falling unhindered and unabated. The purple eyes regained focus. She sniffled. Tears stained her bare hand and single glove as she wiped at her face.

The word hit Anne like a train. She had forgotten. So long ago. When did things change? Did it happen gradually, or was it whisked away with the wind?

"I'm sorry..."

Anne observed her sister's blubbering and sobbing. Not immune to its effect. They weren't crocodile tears. This wasn't an act. This was her sister. All of her.

"I'm sorry. It is my fault."

The words made her sister look up, her eyes red and puffy. When was the last time Anne saw her sister crying? When Lecil was five? She had always complained about not being good at anything but never cried. She was the emotionless sister. She was supposed to be stalwart in her opinions. Unchanging.

"I am sorry that I forgot your name."

"Huh?"

Anne nodded knowingly. It was a surprise to Anne that she'd forgotten. Each word enunciated carefully as not to mistake it.

"Celia. Lets play."

"Play what, Annie?"

"I want to play hop-scotch."

"We played hopscotch yesterday."

"I want to beat you, Celia."

"Annie..."

It was Lecil's true name. The one given at birth. Somewhere. Somehow. It changed. Did anyone else remember? The Queen might have. Celia just bared it all these years, suddenly being called the wrong name?

Anne was cruel.

"I'm sorry, Celia. Somehow I forgot. Forgive me, please."

"..."

Her sister was silent, staring wide-eyed at Anne. Anne mistook the expression for longing.

"I won't forget again. I promise. Please stop crying. I will remember your name. I'll remind the staff and our brothers."

"No."

Anne barely heard the squeak.

"No. Don't tell them."

"Why not? No one should have forgotten your name."

Her sister sniffled, wiping her nose, she spoke more clearly.

"Lecil is my name now. But, if you can call me Celia in private... that would be enough."

Anne felt something beat in her chest.

Anne embraced her sister for the first time in years. It was awkward, especially on the floor.

"I can do that... Celia."

The First Princess smiled. Not the large evil one. Or creepy plotting one. Not the fake, depricating one. Nor the small one barely holding back amusement.

Celia's smile was a gentle and kind.

A found child's smile.

"Thank you. Annie."