The Evil Ladies Form An Alliance

CHAPTER 9: A Changed Lady

The priest immediately leaves after assuring that the lady's life is no longer at risk. The butler who listens to the high priest berate, feels exhausted. His exhaustion added age to him as his white hair started to show from his glittering deep brown hair. Emma, the exclusive maid of the lady, seemed so relieved too.

"Emma, you stay with the lady, I have plenty of things to do." He said, feeling exhausted.

"As you wish, sir."

As the butler quietly left the room, Emma took a deep breath and began to tend to her lady with the utmost care. She dipped a soft towel into a basin of cool water, gently wringing out the excess before returning to attend to the lady. She wiped her lady’s face, carefully ensuring that not a single strand of hair disturbed her peaceful slumber. The young woman’s breathing was steady, her features serene, and Emma moved with the practiced grace of someone who had attended to the same delicate tasks countless times before.

But despite her careful movements, something within the room shifted. The stillness was shattered as Akari’s eyes snapped open, her grip suddenly seizing Emma’s wrist with a force that made her gasp in surprise. The maid’s heart skipped a beat, and she froze, her breath caught in her throat.

“My lady!” Emma exclaimed, her voice shaky with fear.

Akari’s gaze was wide, her eyes unblinking, but they were vacant, cold, and distant as if she were a corpse suddenly reanimated. She glanced around the room with frantic, unfocused eyes, her hands trembling as she gripped Emma’s wrist tighter, almost as if she were afraid, or confused. There was no recognition in her gaze, only the raw fear of someone who had been torn from their world and thrust into an unfamiliar one.

“M-my lady, are you alright?” Emma stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her concern deepening with each passing second.

Akari’s head whipped back toward the maid, her expression strained as if trying to make sense of everything around her. The light in her eyes flickered with the realization that this was no hospital. The sterile white walls, the clean, clinical smell, none of that was there. Instead, the room was far too opulent, the bed far too grand, with its velvet sheets and intricate gold trim. The entire atmosphere of the room screamed of old-world royalty, far removed from the sterile, impersonal wards she remembered.

The faint scent of incense lingered in the air, and she could almost hear the soft echoes of some distant orchestra in the background as if the very air itself carried the weight of centuries.

“Miss, where am I?” she asked, her voice thick with confusion, barely above a murmur, but there was a sharpness to her tone that made Emma’s heart race.

Emma’s eyes welled with fear as she trembled, unsure of how to respond to the questions that echoed in the room. She fought to steady her breathing, but the anxiety was evident in her voice as she tried to explain, her words stumbling over one another.

“You are in your room, my lady,” she replied, her voice shaking, a tremor of desperation creeping into her words. “You’re safe. Please... don’t be alarmed.”

“What room?” Akari demanded, her voice suddenly filled with intensity. There was something in her eyes now, a spark of panic, a glint of something far more desperate.

Emma’s lips trembled, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt the weight of her lady’s confusion. “You are in your room, my lady,” she repeated, trying to remain calm, but the words felt hollow in the air.

“No!” Akari screamed, her voice rising, cutting through the stillness of the room like a blade.

Emma flinched, her hands trembling as the force of the lady's shout echoed in her ears. The tension in the air became unbearable, and the maid’s knees buckled beneath her. The sheer weight of the moment, the uncertainty of what was unfolding, broke her composure. She fell to her knees, her grip on Akari’s wrist slipping away.

“My lady... please, don’t be angry,” Emma pleaded, her voice cracking with the weight of her panic. “I’m telling the truth. You were in an accident with the madam. We rushed you here, to your room, and the high priest. . . He healed you. You’re alive, my lady. You’re safe now.”

Her words tumbled out in a frantic rush, her chest tight with fear, as her heart broke seeing her lady in such a state. Akari’s confusion, her fear, was palpable, and Emma could feel every ounce of it as if it were her own.

She bolted upright, throwing off the covers of the enormous, luxurious bed. Her eyes darted around the room, now taking in every ornate detail. The lavish interior of a grand mansion came into focus: gleaming white marble floors, opulent crystal chandeliers hanging from impossibly high ceilings, and massive arched windows draped with billowing white silk curtains. Beyond the glass, a meticulously groomed garden stretched out, a picturesque scene of vibrant flowers and perfectly trimmed hedges.

The entire space exuded an air of pre-Victorian elegance, as though plucked straight from the setting of the otome game she had played obsessively.

Heart pounding, she rushed to the nearby vanity mirror. The reflection staring back at her was as alien as her surroundings. A woman stood there, slender, ethereal, and breathtakingly beautiful. Her lush pink lips and porcelain skin looked like they belonged to a doll. Platinum waves of hair cascaded down to her waist, framing a pair of glimmering turquoise eyes that seemed to sparkle with an otherworldly light.

But this wasn’t her.

Her chest tightened as she took a shaky step back from the mirror, pinching her cheeks hard enough to sting. "Wake up. This has to be a dream," she thought desperately.

“My lady, please calm down!” a soft, alarmed voice interrupted.

She whirled around to face the speaker, a young maid with wide, concerned eyes. The girl, Emma, if her memories served her right was dressed in a neat uniform, wringing her hands nervously.

The woman stepped closer, desperation spilling from her voice. “Who am I?” she demanded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Emma blinked, clearly taken aback. “My lady?” she stammered.

“Please!” she begged, gripping Emma’s shoulders tightly. “Tell me my name!”

“Your name…?” Emma hesitated before answering, her expression softening with confusion. “You’re Lady Valerie Hawthorne.”

The words hit her like a thunderclap. Her lips trembled as she whispered the name, her voice filled with disbelief. “Valerie… Hawthorne?”