Resolve, Pain, Independence… Panic?

The best decisions are made with a view.

That’s what I told myself after an hour of failing to reach any conclusion whatsoever on the matter. After sinking into the seat where I had thrown out those harsh words at Finley, I sat there melting into a puddle of tears, ignoring the clock.

Once my eyes had drained, I moped around the grand library for a bit, searching aimlessly for a place to think. A nice balcony off the second floor from which I could gaze angstily off into the distance revealed itself from behind a shelf. I stepped out into the air. Bridd’s fantasy skyline (if it could be called that) stared back.

I felt numb.

Ironic, isn’t it? Like, how can you feel numb? Isn’t numbness, like, the absence of-

Well, whatever. That’s not important. What was strange about this numbness was that it was different from what I was used to. In my previous life, I felt numb basically all the time — emotions had felt like something made up in stories that I would never get to experience. Ever since I transmigrated to the Lumineuse Kingdom, I’d felt more deep, true emotion than I ever had before — both good and bad.

All of that is to say that this was different. This numbness was not a lack of true emotion, but an emptiness, a feeling that was almost an emotion in and of itself. The trough after the peak of emotions running higher than they ever had. I was… spent. An hour of crying will do that to you, I guess.

Replaying the fight with Finley in my head over and over, I tried to figure out what to do. The deadline to return home, set apparently by royal decree, rapidly approached.

I really messed up. Bad. The impulse to beat myself up just wouldn’t fade.

You’ve gotta figure something out, though, me. Sitting here sulking isn’t gonna help.

But it feels so good!

So would figuring out your next steps, dummy.

I grimaced. A tried and true strategy, I settled on weighing the pros and cons of each side.

I’m stuck in this world. That much is clear.

Lumineuse is secure, a certain place that exists for me. But if I go back home, I’ll become Friedbert’s… bride. The eventual Queen of the Lumineuse Kingdom. Stuck with my father and the Deighsels for the rest of my life. A secure life, but chained to him.

A bird flew across my field of view, drawing my attention to the city down the hill below.

On the other hand, I thought, if I stay here, I’ll get to be with Finley. Finley…

“I’ll… leave you to it,” his final words echoed back in my mind once more, freshening the pain.

But it was through that pain, that regret, that my resolution became clearer, the decision floating up from the depths of my broken heart. If I stay, I can fix things with Finley. Totally.

Let’s assume that, for now.

I rested my elbows on the parapet. So it’s basically a choice between Friedbert and Finley. The restrictive Lumineuse Kingdom, or the free-spirited Andraste Empire. Mundane versus magical. Traditional, or open.

You might think I’m crazy for even having to consider my options so thoroughly, given how much fun Andraste had been, but the thought of leaving behind any and all security I had — in a vast and unfamiliar world, at that — was truly intimidating. The thought that I would be stuck here with nothing if Finley didn’t actually like me bore heavily on my shoulders.

I don’t know exactly how he feels about me, especially after what I said…

But he still ended that conversation by saying there was still a choice. So he does want me to stay. The invitation to remain here with him felt clear enough. A brief spurt of dumbstruck happiness overtook me as I remembered his initial invitation. I smiled like a moron at the thought. Hehe, he wants me to stay with him.

Forget the fight for now. We can resolve that, surely.

Do I want to stay?

Even still, with the gravity of the matter, of abandoning my princesshood — even with the wound of my falling-out with the prince still fresh, I felt my spirit longing to stay in Andraste. To learn magic, to experience the joys of the “degenerate festival,” as my father called it, to be a person on her own path.

To be with Finley.

The Dawn of Spring. That was the proof of his feelings for me. Those gentle flowers on that festival morning, our magic lessons in the secret courtyard he dared not even show his twin sister, the invitation to stay here forever. He’s a royal himself, so surely he also understood just how big a deal it was to suggest that — and in doing so, must have really meant something with it.

Perhaps I didn’t need him to say it out loud, after all.

Yes, that was the most important thing, I realized. I wished to stay here to remain with him. To be married to Friedbert was a fate worse than death. Throughout all the immense time we had spent together over the last few weeks, Finley let me be my own person, not a pawn in a geopolitical chess match. He saw me for who I was. Never once did I feel a disgusting stare, a lustful gaze undressing me, violating me, from the High Scholar. At every turn, he valued me, respected me, simply enjoyed talking with me — and I with him. Even in disagreement, he maintained respect and kindness.

Yeah. I’m staying here. I don’t care what my dad thinks. He can find some other way to deal with those fake Dukes. That’s not my problem. I should be with Finley.

I smiled as I repeated my decision to myself. Yeah. I’m staying in Andraste.

High in the sky, the sun warmed my skin, and I took a deep breath of the fresh air outside the library. I will make this my home. And I will fix things with Finley. And I will be happy.

It was time to tell them of my decision.

Finley was nowhere to be found as I exited the library, heading back to the guest wing. Guess he got what he was looking for. I’ll talk to Marie first, then.

The clock behind Stuart’s desk told me I was over an hour late for the royal-decree-ordered departure time. Hah! Who cares! I’ll be years late for that trip back home.

Practically skipping my way back to my room, I felt light. Making the decision had helped alleviate the emptiness, the awful nausea from the fight(s). The decision had been made. I opened the doors.

“Marie? I wanted to apologize for… Huh?” The room was empty. No Marie, and no luggage.

That’s… weird. Maybe she’s outside? Nope.

I stepped over to my bed. On my bedside table, where I had kept A Collected History of the Incande Region: From First Steps to the Lumineuse Kingdom, volume 10 for bedtime study, there was a note.

Heavy parchment rustled through the quiet room as I unfolded it. It read:

Your Highness,
I see you have decided to brazenly disobey your father, His Majesty King Lumineuse. You have left us with no other options. We have taken your things back with us to the carriages already. It took a little “convincing,” but Marie decided to join us. We have already begun our trip back home. If you know what’s good for you, and if you’d like Marie to remain safe and unharmed, you’ll go to the carriages by one o’clock, where Sir Robert will be waiting to take you home. Do not test us.
‘Till we meet once more at Palace Lumineuse,
By His royal authority,
Margot

As I read, my jaw clenched. No. No! They took Marie!? Marie! My nails dug into my palm. Unacceptable.

They’re trying to force me to come back? Right when I made my decision?

I sat down on the bed. Is this the worst day of my life? My hair formed a curtain around my field of view as I leaned forward, head in hands, distraught. Marie. I needed to apologize. What have they done with you? Where are you now?

Hopeless and empty, I sat on the bed for five minutes. Nobody was going to go to save Marie.

Nobody, except…

Why not me?

I looked at the book on the nightstand. I’ve made my own path here. Why should I obey the outrageous commands of these jerks?

Who said I couldn’t be the hero of my own story?

A new feeling filled my empty vessel of a heart. Courage. Courage and rage.

Furious, I crumpled the note. Oh, I’ll come, alright. But not for you, Margot. Not for you, nor my father, nor those Deighsel monsters.

No, I’m coming to get Marie. And then we’ll come back to Andraste together. Forever.

I’m going back for me. This is my decision.

I’m not choosing Lumineuse.

The history book almost began to glow. I struck out on my own here to learn about the truth. And I found it.

I grabbed the tenth volume of A Collected History of… (yeah, yeah, you get it) and tucked it under my arm. I’m coming back, Margot, and boy, do I have a little piece of trivia for you all.

They wanted to play hardball? Fine. I wasn’t powerless, myself, anymore. I had knowledge. The knowledge that the Deighsels were not only frauds, but foreign operatives and traitors, to boot.

The clock rang out, marking the passing of the hour — one o’clock. Out of time. I took the heavy tome along and dashed out of the guest wing, rushing to the carriages.