Chapter 2 My Beauty is Duty

My new identity was Aurelia Aurelius. My new life was a gilded cage.

Lying in the enormous bed, I stared up at the ceiling, a single question echoing in the silence of my mind: But why can't I remember anything? The name felt like an ill-fitting gown, something I was forced to wear but could never truly own. The faces of the people who claimed to be my family swam in my thoughts. Their worry. Their tears. Their desperate hope. It was a heavy burden for a stranger to carry.

Sleep offered no escape. I tossed and turned, the silken sheets a constant, suffocating reminder of a luxury I didn't recognise. The mattress was so soft it felt like I was sinking, yet my mind was a struggle of broken thoughts and a profound, disturbing emptiness where a lifetime of memories should have been. Finally, I gave up. I rose from the bed and padded towards the balcony. The cool marble floor was a shock against my bare feet.

I slid open the heavy glass door. A gust of night air rushed in. Cool. Clean. The wind immediately caught my long hair, whipping it around my face like a wild thing. Before me, Mother Luna hung full and luminous in the dark sky, her light so bright it seemed to erase the world of paint, casting the sprawling gardens below in shades of silver and shadow. The garden was a masterpiece of controlled nature, with perfectly sculpted hedges and geometrically arranged flowerbeds, yet from this height, it looked like a labyrinth. I leaned against the cold stone of the balcony, letting the wind move me. It felt like a cleansing, a moment of clarity after the suffocating confusion of the day. For a few precious moments, I wasn't Aurelia, the lost daughter. I was just a consciousness, a witness to the silent beauty of the night. I stayed there for a long time, just breathing, the world reduced to the whisper of the wind and the steady presence of the moon, before the chill finally drove me back inside. I drew the heavy curtains, lay down, and this time, sleep found me.

I was woken by a gentle but insistent patting on my shoulder. The morning sun was streaming into the room, and the maid from yesterday stood by my bed, her expression a careful mixture of deference and curiosity.

"Good morning, my lady," she greeted softly.

"Gooood morning," I yawned, stretching. "Yesterday… it was a lot to take in."

"His Grace and everyone are waiting for you at breakfast," she informed me.

I moved to get out of bed, but she gently blocked my path. "My lady, I think you need to dress before you go."

I looked down at my silk pyjamas. "Dress? It's only breakfast."

"It is appropriate to be well-dressed at the table," she said with a small, knowing smile. "His Grace and Madam will understand the delay."

Her calm certainty was disarming. "If you say so."

She led me to the dressing table, and what followed was a ritual so elaborate it felt surreal. I sat in the plush velvet chair as she began her work. First, she washed my face with a soft cloth dipped in rose-scented water. Then came the combing of my hair, a task that seemed to take an eternity. The wooden comb moved through the long, white strands with a slow, rhythmic precision. I watched in the mirror as she worked, her hands never faltering. I felt less like a person and more like a precious object being polished for display.

After my hair was tamed into soft waves, she opened a series of small, ornate jars. A light, pearlescent powder was dusted onto my face, followed by a soft cream that smelt of lavender. She applied a faint touch of blush to my cheeks and a hint of honey-sweetened colour to my lips. The girl in the mirror was being transformed, her features enhanced until she looked like a perfect porcelain doll. It was a beautiful face, but it wasn't mine.

The ritual continued. She returned from the wardrobe with a fine white dress, its fabric so light it seemed to float. With an impersonal efficiency, she helped me out of my pyjamas and into a set of intricate undergarments, including stockings held up by a delicate garter belt. The dress was the final layer, a whisper of silk against my skin.

"Is all of this really necessary just for breakfast?" I asked, the question feeling foolish even as I said it.

"Of course, my lady," she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "It is my duty to maintain your beauty every day."

"Every day?" The thought was exhausting. "It feels like I'm preparing for a party."

"If my lady were preparing for a party, there would be many more steps," she said, her expression serene. She gestured to the dressing table. "The cosmetics I used are from the right-hand drawers, for daily use. For a formal occasion, I would use the cosmetics from the left-hand drawers as well. There would be far more treatments."

"This is all baffling," I confessed.

"My lady doesn't need to think on it. Just allow me to do my work."

"Right," I said, a thought striking me. "I still haven't caught your name."

"My name is Adeline, my lady," she replied with a small curtsy. She had dark hair and seemed to be in her early twenties.

"I'll remember that, Adeline. Now, let's go to breakfast. Can you lead the way?"

"Of course, my lady."

We walked through the grand, silent hallways of the house. The walls were adorned with ornate decorations and large, imposing paintings of stern-faced ancestors I didn't know. The sheer scale of the mansion was overwhelming; it felt more like a palace than a home. My room was on the second floor, and the walk to the dining room felt like a journey through a collection dedicated to a life that wasn't mine.

When we arrived, everyone was already seated. Adeline, whom I decided to call Adel in my mind, led me to my chair between the twins, Aurelio and Ophelia. My mother, Cordelia, sat at the head of the table, and my father, Marcus, at the opposite end. The tension from yesterday had eased, replaced by a fragile, hopeful atmosphere.

"How are you feeling, Aurelia?" my mother asked gently.

"Better. I'm sorry for worrying you."

"It's alright. I think your brother and sister were the ones who were most worried."

I turned to the twins and patted their heads. "Forgive your big sister for making you worry."

"I'll forgive you if you play with me," Ophelia said immediately, her red eyes bright.

"Unfair!" Aurelio chimed in. "You have to play with me too!"

"I'll play with both of you later," I promised with a smile that felt surprisingly genuine.

They beamed, but their happiness was short-lived.

"Aurelia will play with you tomorrow," my father's voice cut in. "Today, I want to introduce her to her new tutor."

"Ehhhhh!" the twins whined in unison.

"It's okay," my mother soothed them. "If your father says tomorrow, it means you can play with her all day."

The twins began to whisper conspiratorially. "Father is cunning," Ophelia declared loudly. "We can't trust his word."

My parents exchanged amused glances. "What would it take for you to believe us?" my father asked, playing along.

"Promise that tomorrow, we'll have Sister Aurelia all to ourselves," Ophelia demanded.

My father raised his hand solemnly. "I promise."

"And if you break your promise?" she pressed.

"I will take the entire family for a stroll in the city, and we'll go shopping."

"DEAL!" Ophelia shouted, agreeing instantly.

As the twins continued their bickering, my one thought was, 'When are we going to eat?' I'm starving.

Finally, my father clapped his hands, and several maids entered, carrying silver platters laden with food. Breakfast began.

After the meal, Adel led me back to my room. The moment we arrived, I made a dash for the bed.

"MY LADY!" Adel cried, her voice filled with alarm. "It is not appropriate to lie down in a dress."

"Ehhhh…" I sighed, defeated. "How about the balcony then?"

On the balcony, the small table and chair remained, along with a fresh pot of tea and a plate of pastries. Adel pulled out the chair for me, and I sat down, enjoying the gentle breeze. A short while later, a knock came at the door. It was a butler with a message.

"My lady, His Grace wishes to see you in his study."

We made our way to my father's study. The door was immense, at least three times my height, carved from a dark, polished wood. Adel waited outside as I pushed it open. The room was vast, lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with countless leather-bound volumes. The air smelt of old paper and leather. My father was sitting at a large desk, and standing before him was a woman with blonde hair, dressed not in a gown but in what looked like men's clothing—a tailored tunic and trousers.

"Aurelia, you're here," my father said as I approached. "I told you I would be introducing you to your new tutor." His gaze shifted to the woman. "She will be your tutor, and for now, your lady-in-waiting."

The woman turned to me and bowed gracefully. There was a confidence in her posture, a stillness that was both calming and intimidating. "Greetings, my lady. My name is Octavi Claudi."

"Greetings, Lady Octavi."

"She is a graduate of the Palace Academy," my father explained. "Her knowledge and abilities are excellent."

"If you praise her so highly, Father, then it must be true."

"It is an honour," Octavi said, her voice calm and steady.

"You two should have a tea party to get to know each other," my father suggested.

"A wonderful idea," I replied. "Perhaps in the garden itself?"

"I will have a butler see to it," he said, and with a clap of his hands, a butler appeared instantly at the door. "Prepare a tea party for my daughter and Lady Octavi in the garden."

The butler bowed and departed.

"With that settled," my father said, a smile on his face, "you two may go and enjoy the garden."