Willow's Choice

No More Miss Nice Willow

Three days. That gave me time to prepare, time to make sure my first public appearance as this new version of Willow would make the right impression.

"From what I saw, I mean... from what I remember, my clothes are quite outdated," I said carefully. Willow's memories showed me her wardrobe—full of dresses that were expensive but years out of fashion, styles that made her look younger and more naive than she actually was. Childish dresses with too many ruffles and bows, in pale colors that washed out her complexion.

"You don't like spending money on that..." Talia said softly.

Of course, she didn't. Willow had been taught that vanity was a sin, that a proper lady should be modest and unassuming.

Meanwhile, her fiancé was spending her family's money on his mistresses' jewelry and his gambling debts.

"Well, now that I have money, I mean, now that I've decided to change, and so that that cockroach sees he's lost, I need you to call the dressmaker and take a letter to my aunt."

"Of course, my lady..." Talia's eyes were wide with surprise, but there was something else there too—a spark of approval, perhaps even hope.

"Oh, I forgot, I know that in this world, I mean, tell me about superpowers." The word felt strange on my tongue, too modern for this place. I quickly corrected myself. "Tell me about elemental magic."

Talia looked at me strangely, as if she was trying to figure out if I'd hit my head or fallen ill. But she answered anyway.

"Superpowers? Elemental magic?" she repeated, clearly confused by my choice of words.

"Yes, that..."

"Well, there are five elements: metal, wood, fire, water, and earth. The royal family, for example, has the element of fire. There are some dukes and earls who do too. The Vane family has the element of earth, but you decided not to train it."

I felt a surge of frustration at Willow's past decisions. She had elemental magic—a rare and precious gift that most people in this world would kill for—and she'd just... not used it? Not developed it?

What an i***t! I thought. You could have been like a Sailor Scout and yelled, "Earth tremble!" Hahaha.

The reference to the anime from my old world made me smile. Here I was, in a fantasy world with actual magic, and I was thinking about magical girl transformation sequences.

"What? I don't understand, my lady," Talia said, looking even more concerned now.

"Hahaha, don't worry," I waved it off. There was no point trying to explain references she'd never understand. "I'll go get your breakfast, call the dressmaker, and bring you paper for your letter to the queen."

"Good."

After Talia left, I took a moment to process everything. I had elemental magic. Earth magic, specifically. The power to control stone and soil, to sense tremors in the ground, to make the very earth move according to my will. And Willow had just... ignored it. Decided not to train it because her tutors had told her it wasn't ladylike to practice magic, that it was too aggressive, too masculine.

Well, I wasn't going to make the same mistake.

That same day, after Talia returned with breakfast and writing materials, I made my first changes to Willow's life. I changed her style of dress, choosing a gown from the back of her wardrobe that had been a gift from her aunt but that Willow had never worn because she thought it was too bold. It was a deep emerald green that made her—my—eyes look brighter, more alive. The cut was more fitted than Willow usually wore, showing off a slender figure that had been hidden under shapeless fabric for years.

Talia's eyes actually teared up when she saw me in it. "My lady, you look beautiful. Like your mother used to look."

That hit me harder than I expected. Willow's mother had died when she was ten, and she barely remembered her. But Talia did.

Talia remembered a woman who had been strong and confident, who had stood up to the duke when necessary, who had been beloved by her people.

Then I sat down to write the letter to my aunt. The words came easily, flowing from the pen as if they'd been waiting years to be written.

Dear Aunt,

Through tears, I write you this letter. Yesterday, on my way to the library, I caught my fiancé kissing Lady Iris Bloom .

I paused, thinking about how to phrase the next part. I needed to strike the right balance—hurt enough that she'd be sympathetic, but strong enough that she'd respect my decision.

My Dear Aunt I have never asked you for anything. I have always behaved like an impeccable young lady. However, I ask you, no I beg you, to end my engagement. You are the only family I have left in the kingdom. Please help me.

With love, with a cane,

Willow Montgomery.

The "with a cane" was an odd phrase, but it was one Willow had always used in letters to her aunt—a private joke between them from when Willow was small and had declared she would walk with a cane like her grandfather when she grew old and wise.

I sealed the letter and handed it to Talia, who looked at it with a mixture of pride and worry.

"My lady, are you certain? Breaking an engagement is... it's not done lightly. There will be talk."

"Let them talk," I said firmly. "I'd rather be talked about than be miserable."

That same night, I received an invitation to the palace to stay for a while. The response had been swift—my aunt clearly took the matter seriously.

I looked at the elegant script on the invitation, at the royal seal pressed into the wax, and felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. In my previous life, I'd had no one to turn to, no one to help me when things went wrong. But here, I had family. I had power. I had options.

"I'll be at the palace for a few days and then I'll leave..." I murmured to myself, thinking out loud. "Don't worry Willow, we'll have a new and better life... that's my best way of thanking you for giving me this opportunity."

Talia looked at me curiously. "My lady? Who are you talking to?"

I smiled at her. "Just myself. Making promises I intend to keep."

As I packed for the palace, I thought about the original story I'd read. In that version, Willow had stayed engaged to Javier, had married him, had watched her family's fortune disappear, and had eventually died young and alone, mourned by no one.

But that wasn't going to be my story. I'd been given a second chance at life, and I wasn't going to waste it on suffering and silence.

This time, Willow Vane was going to write her own ending.