Father stopped in his tracks, turned around and looked back at mother in disbelief. Then he looked back to me. Then back to mother again. “What?” father finally said, breaking the silence.

“Oh come now, dear. Since when do you know Mirabelle to react like that to being questioned by us? Do you really believe she would give her brother up as easily as that? Does turning herself back in after fighting to escape sound like her? Not to mention her voice is noticeably different. It lacks its usual disrespectful intonation.”

Father frowned “But… the shackles?”

“Yes, quite a conundrum that. They must have found some way around them. Or perhaps they sabotaged them?  In either case, you had the right idea: I will take care of it, dear. You have a runaway daughter to catch.”

“Runaway daughter?” Father replied, clearly still not having caught up.

“Yes, Myra, your daughter,” mother replied patiently “and like I said before: keep it under wraps. Only involve those we know can be trusted”

“Right” father replied, clearly still trying to catch up mentally to a change in circumstances “so… I’m off to Eisencrad and you will take care of things on this end?”

“Don’t be silly, dear. Obviously that part was a lie as well” mother replied, then she turned to me again, still with that calm, unnerving stare, “Damien, where did Myra say she went?”.

It took me some time to find my voice again to answer her question. I considered lying, but was not even sure what I would lie about. So instead I told the truth: “She did not want to tell me. To make sure I could not tell you I suppose”.

“Thank you for your honesty, dear” mother replied, before turning back to father with a meaningful stare. Father was staring back bewildered for a couple of seconds. Considering how easily she accepted my statement, should I have lied? Or was the reason she accepted it because she somehow knew it was the truth?

After a couple of seconds mother decided to break the silence between her and father and said: “Well, what are you waiting for? Go after her already. We have already given her enough of a head start, I would say.”

“Oh, uh….” father replied hesitatingly “where is she even then?”

“We do not know where she is” mother said, with just a hint of annoyance starting to show up in her voice “go get your brother Ivar. He’s good at tracking people down, right? Then just follow her trail.”

“Right” father replied as he turned back around and started walking away somewhat uncertainly.

Just as he exited the cell mother called after him one more time “oh, and do try to be back before the debutante ball. Preferably with our daughter. Your presence is important either way”.

Father turned around to give one more nod, and then walked around the corner. And then it was just me and mother.

-

I just sat there on the bed, awkwardly, trying to stop myself from freaking out too much. Mother, for her part, was simply looking at me. Silently. Judging me, probably.

We had been  looking at each other for about a full minute and she still had not said a word since father had left. I had expected an admonition. I had feared that she would get angry with me and shout and insult me. Somehow, this silence was worse. As long as she did not speak, she could be thinking anything. As long as she did not speak, I could not help myself from imagining all the horrible things she must be thinking about me right now. About how disrespectful I had been to lie to them. About how ungrateful I was to help Myra instead of telling them about her escape. About how much of a freak I was for choosing to do it like this.

Finally, I could not stand it anymore. I had to break this silence. I had to figure out what was going on in her mind. At least then I would know. At least then I would not have to keep guessing.

“So” I started awkwardly “What now?”

“Why have you not turned back yet?” mother replied calmly “you are no longer fooling anybody”.

“I uh…. can’t” I replied, as I held up my shackles “anti-magic shackles, I can’t change the smallest thing about myself right now.”

She narrowed her eyes then closed the distance between us and put her hand on the shackles. As I had been wearing them for a while at this point they had gone back to looking like regular shackles. As mother put her hand on it though, the part she touched glowed purple yet again. “So… this is not being sustained by you then? Interesting…”

After that she stood back up and an uncomfortable silence fell again. Instead of looking at me, mother was now looking off in the distance, clearly having something on her mind.

“So uh… what now?” I repeated, not wanting another long silence.

“Hmmm, oh yes” mother snapped out of whatever she had been thinking of. “Obviously you are in serious trouble for the way you attempted to lie against us. You are to stay in this cell until further notice. I also want you to promise not to tell anybody about any detail of yesterday’s proceedings. It would not do for people to think the Marcher Lord Matthias Whitbee could not even recognize his own daughter. Is that clear?”

“Yes mother” I replied, though I was unsure how that would work exactly. There had been too many guards there to sweep the whole thing happening under the rug. Would people not figure out eventually that Myra was still missing? How would they explain that? Would they lie and say that she had escaped from her cell? Although entirely possible, that hardly seemed to reflect all that much better on our family then the truth. I knew better than to question mother’s judgement on such matters though.

“Right then. I have things to attend to for the preparation of the debutante ball now. With your father gone for the time being, I will have to work for two. I will have some servants bring you some belongings and the like, so that you might at least spend your time here in a useful manner. And I will have somebody come over and help you out of those dreadful clothes.”

And that was that. After saying that, mother apparently considered the conversation over, turned around and started walking away. I wanted to call after her about what I was supposed to tell the servants. About whether she could have the uncomfortable shackles removed or anything of the sort. But clearly mother considered the conversation over, and I knew that she hated it when we spoke out of turn. So instead I just sat there watching her walk out of the cell and then closing the cell door behind her. And once again I was alone with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.

-

Sometime later my cell door opened again. It had felt like an eternity, but judging by how little the sun had moved it could not have been much longer than an hour. This time the opened door revealed two guards escorting two servants. I think I had seen them around the castle before, though I certainly did not know their names. They had with them a cart carrying clothes.

The older of the two servants, who must have been in her early forties or so, was staying relatively professional. The younger of the two though, who must be quite close to my own age, was looking at me with wide eyes filled with fear. I suppose word gets around. I wonder if one of the guards that are with them told them or whether stories about Myra’s escape are just doing the rounds in the entire castle?

As they pulled the cart into my little cell and closed the door behind them there was something much more interesting that I had to wonder about though. Upon closer inspection the clothes they were carrying were by and large dresses. And also nightshirts, undertunics and some underwear. Not to mention I recognized many pieces. They were Myra’s clothes.  Some of the frillier ones I did not recognize, but that might just be because Myra had refused to wear those. Myra had always had a talent for getting her way in spite of what our parents wanted her to do, though I suppose it had only carried her so far.

As the servants began to hang up the clothes in the cell’s closet, one calmly, the other while every now and again looking back at me to see if I was still sitting still on my bed, I wondered whether I should address the situation at all. Mother had been so vague, did she just want me to pretend to be Myra while captured? I suppose that is one way in order to not have anybody realise that father was deceived. But then what about ‘Damien’? What was she telling people about him? I turned back to the servants. Might as well ask. “What news of my brother?”

The younger one leaped almost a meter away from me at the sound of my voice, which earned her a stern look of disapproval from the older one. Then the older of the two curtly answered: “Still in bed, my lady, Dragonpox got him good.” Then she went back to her work, instructing the younger servant to do the same.

Dragonpox? That’s the story she went with? I suppose it made sense. It was a highly infectious disease that showed up in nobles without much warning. It was not especially dangerous for us if treated well, but once we started to show signs we became infectious to common people as well. In fact: it was the same disease Myra had faked in order to get out of having to attend the debutante ball last year. Creating the illusion of the characteristic blemishes on her skin had been easy enough, though it had been weird maintaining an illusion like that while not in the same room. She had told me at the time that she was not yet ready for the ball, that she wanted to wait another year. Looking at yesterday’s events there was probably more that she had not told me, or that she maybe did not realise herself yet. I wonder if she was already with Taisha back then?

After the servants had finished hanging up all but one set of clothes it turned out they had also brought some books and even a plate of dinner in the form of lamb and some vegetables. I continued to awkwardly sit on the edge of my bed, unsure whether or not to ask anything more. If I accidentally gave away anything mother did not want me to give away she would of course be even more cross with me, so I decided to just keep quiet for now.

Once that was done the younger servant looked at me and was practically shaking. The older one took one look at her, then turned to me and said: “do you mind if I take over, my lady, it seems like Margaret is not feeling all that well.”

“Um, no, go right ahead?” I replied. Though I was unsure about what is was that she wanted to do.

“Thank you my lady” the older woman replied. The younger one also shot me a grateful look before she procured a key from one of her pockets. Wait is that? My suspicion was quickly affirmed as the older woman took the key and put it in the keyhole of the left manacle of the shackles. As she did so the younger woman went to stand at the furthest corner of the room, though she was continuing to look at us.

Truth be told she really did not need to back off like that. As first the one and then the other shackle were removed I did feel some of the dullness fade away, and finally no longer having the cold heavy manacles around my wrist was certainly a huge relief, but my magic were still fully drained. It would take some time without the shackles before I would be able to do anything significant with my magic again.

After that she went back to the cart, and I finally understood what the one last set of clothes had been for. I suppose I should have known. Mother had said she would send somebody to get me out of these clothes.

The older woman paused and I knew what was expected of me. My hands trembled somewhat as I started to undo the straps behind my back that I had been unable to undo while shackled. I had intentionally put on the training uniform before using any magic yesterday. It seemed extremely disrespectful to Myra otherwise. Sure, it was only an approximation based on the way I knew Myra looked, but still.

As I finally undid the last strap I made sure to look straight ahead as I pulled first one arm, then the other out of tight training uniform. It was definitely a great relief  to feel my breasts no longer being pushed in an uncomfortable manner as I pulled the uniform down further until it was just hanging over my hips. Then I quickly pulled my undershirt over my head and gave it to the older woman before it became too obvious to them that the undershirt I had been wearing was quite un-ladylike, and made sure to continue my stoic stare forward. Wait, what must this look like to the servants? Would they think Myra has body issues?

As I got out with first the one leg of the uniform, and then the other the older woman came up and I gave her the uniform, which she brought back to the cart. Just then my resolve wavered for just a moment and I looked down…

What I had expected was to see something wholly weird and foreign. That would be the normal reaction to looking down to see breasts, right? Instead it felt weirdly… normal. I suppose I had had some time to get used to what there was now on my chest, I just had not had as clear of a view before this. I thought it might be odd to notice a lack of a certain something, but I cannot say I really missed seeing that odd thing . I suppose it is hard to have a lack of anything feel all that weird and it is not like I could really see what replaced it at this angle, but still….

“M’lady? Are you allright?” the older woman said, holding up the new clothes I was supposed to wear in front of her.

Damn it, how long was I zoning out for? “Apologies, I am fine” I replied, trying to sound nonchalantly, but failing utterly.

I tried to put myself at ease again, and ignore the guilt creeping up on me for ignoring my erstwhile good intentions as I put on the undergarments and nightshirt she had prepared for me. It was a remarkably soft material. I had noticed before that Myra’s nightshirts were extremely soft, but it was definitely a different experience being the one wearing them. And then it was the time I had feared already. Time for the shackles to go back on.

The older woman shot me an apologetic look as she retrieved them from the cart. It was not until I had been momentarily without them that I realised just how uncomfortable they had been. I was just starting to get some magic back, very slowly. Wait, what if I?

I turned around for a bit, dramatically took a deep breath and then presented my hands to her. She put one hand in, then the other and clicked the lock. If she had been more familiar with these shackles she might have noticed a lack of reaction from me as they seemingly locked around me again. Or the way in which they softly glowed purple despite being closed, and only at the very top of the shackles. Perhaps if she knew who I truly was, and what magic that meant I had she might have checked more carefully. But, thankfully, she did not.

She turned around, asked if there was anything else she could help me with. After I had told her that was all, trying to not make my voice sound as hurried as I felt, she finally turned around and left. Her departure could not have taken much longer as I felt the little bit of magic I had had give way just as she was closing my cell door. If she decided to take one more look it would all have been for nothing.

But she did not, and thus she did not see my illusion give way to reveal that I was actually only the shackles up by my fingers. When I felt sure enough that she was out of range I simply let them slide off on the bed. There, no more of that.

As I lay on the bed, unshackled, there was one major question on my mind.

Now what?