A Mask to Hide the Truth

 I slowly opened the doors to the headmaster's office. There he sat, buried in piles of parchment. Some detailing magical theories for professors, others lists of materials for the curriculum. The ivy walled office would have been much bigger as a result. But, even with all the papers folding themselves into envelopes, and got stamped with a magical wax seal to be sent out the window to their destination, space seemed like a luxury in the small room.

“Miss Drewitt,” he said, not one looking up from the parchment he was writing on “please, come in.”

I walked over to the dark oak desk, my boots stepping over the pristine dark blue carpet speckled like a night sky. When I was mere feet away, the door closed on its own. Great… Trapped. It must be something he doesn’t want others to hear, just in case they come up to his office.

I took in the old headmaster’s appearance. Thin creased skin, frail figure, and dark circles under his eyes. His brown suit was more pristine than his age, despite everything. Once he finished what he needed to write, he looked up at me.

“I trust your recovery was successful, Miss Drewitt?” he asked.

“Yes, Headmaster,” I answered as smoothly as Rosaria would have. My stomach knotted anyway in fear of not sounding like her.

“I hope you and Miss Primiaria remain on good terms. There are troubling reports that you accused her of pushing you from the boat.”

Aaaand there it was… The inevitable reprimand I’ve been dreading. To anyone, it might sound like he was concerned for two students who might have had a falling out in their friendship. But, I unfortunately know the threat and warning behind those words.

I remembered this part from ‘His Amour’. Rosaria practically fell apart after this scolding. She tried to justify her accusation against her’friend’ and the headmaster was having none of it. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her. Someone she called a friend shoved her off a boat, knowing she couldn’t swim at all. This was the exact moment her reputation went downhill, all because Historia was untouchable, saintly, perfect in everyone else’s eyes.

Of course, the headmaster would side with Historia. The last thing he wanted was anyone accusing the future saintess of something so vile. His own reputation depended on her being protected until the time came for her to be revealed.

“It was just a small dispute between classmates.” I said. “Miss Historia and I will be on good terms again soon. You know how friends have their fair share of quarrels, headmaster. It is part of student life. We all sometimes have the falling before reconciliation. I will admit it was unjust of me to accuse my friend for shoving me with no evidence or witness to testify. I was just terrified and upset at the time, I lashed out at the person who was closest to me when I fell in.”

My voice sounded calm, but inside I felt shaky. Though, I still couldn’t help but feel uneasy knowing this was the second time something had happened to Rosaria according to the Drewitts. That was never in the novel. If the world wasn’t following the story exactly, maybe Historia wasn’t behind it all. I needed to find out who had shoved Rosaria, and what that first incident had been.

The headmaster gave a thoughtful hum and returned to his parchment. “You may go to class now, Miss Drewitt.”

Relief nearly slipped out as a sigh. Seems like he just doesn’t want anyone causing the chosen one of Krono trouble before they make the big announcement. Even when he dismissed me, I felt like I’d been judged. And honestly? I really didn’t want to know what went through his head.

I left the office and headed back down, already feeling exhausted from being out of my element. Once the elevator-like stones reached the base of the tower, I steadily made my way to the building I remembered the general classes were held at. There, I saw her, in all her silver haired glory, Historia Primaria.

The illustrations did her no justice. She wore the same black military top and pleated skirt I did, but on her the fabric looked ethereal, like it had been made to adorn her and her alone. Her black cape marked her as part of the dark magic division, a place built for combat, not comfort. Of course it suited her perfectly. Of course it did. She was everything they said she was: radiant, charming, and saintly.

Rosaria was never one to willingly harm somebody, so she ended up choosing the general magic classes. I, however, plan on changing classes for one person and only for that person, Estel Misfortuna. Dark magic class was where Historia and him had bonded the most in the novel, being childhood friends and all. He would want to be with her as much as he could.

This world was terrifying, despite it being whimsical and magical for a reader…. For a reader. Every shadow seemed sharper than the one before. I was insecure, scared, and unprepared. But if I had to stumble through combat lessons to keep Estel from suffering Edward’s fate, then stumble I would. Not again, not ever will I lose someone I hold dear. Fear has been the one thing that has always made me hesitate to protect that which I held dear. And the fear of change. Naivety would only get someone killed in this world. ‘His Amour’ was more than just a testament to that statement.

I cursed myself for getting side tracked. That's when I noticed a black haired male with red eyes and a black military uniform, a white belt, black pants and boots tucked under them. Ah, I felt my blood boil. Mister heart snatcher himself, and Rosaria’s half brother. Darren Romancio. The one who ruined Estel’s life twice over…He seemed to have snuck his way to talk to Historia while I was lost in thought, and the two seemed to be bantering about something.

The more I saw them, the more I couldn’t help but feel the pit of my stomach drop. How was I supposed to act all gung-ho about them when I knew what they did to Estel in both stories? If I were Sylvia or Amanda, I’d probably be swooning right now. But I’m not. And all I could think about was how Estel just… faded into the background whenever they were around each other. Seeing them cheery right now brought more than just bitter memories.

Darren noticed me and waved me over, albeit hesitant. “Rose! Glad to see you’re doing okay.”

I walked over, stopping as I reached them. How can I act like the Rosaria they know? Sure, I knew how she acted to some degree, but that was only through Estel’s perspective in ‘His Amour’. And I don’t even think Historia intersected with her enough in ‘Historia’s Ever After’ to get a good grasp either. My heart thrummed in my chest loudly, suddenly afraid I would get caught being a fraud.

‘It’s okay Rose,’ I told myself. ‘If the Drewitt’s didn’t suspect a thing, that must mean I’m doing a good job…. God, I hope that I sound convincing.’ Or at least, that's what I was deluding myself with right now. “Yes, It was just a bit of water. Thankfully, I was pulled out before I had actually drowned. So there wasn’t any imminent danger.” I said.

I turned over to Historia. “Historia… I’m sorry I accused you of pushing me off the boat. I was just so frightened from almost drowning, I accused you since you were behind Estel and I when we were fishing out the slugs. That was wrong of me to do as your friend”

I tried to put my best sad face on. Relief washed over me, but it was thin and temporary. One wrong word and the mask would slip. Anxiety filled my lungs, and the inner introvert in me was practically feeling an imaginary wall crush her in fear. ‘Keep it together Rose, they’re not weirded out in the slightest… The transition was seamless.’

“Rosaria,” Historia said, “It’s okay. You were panicking and disoriented. Sometimes panic brings the worst in us in moments of fear, but it's friendship that makes us still together after mishaps.”

“Yeah, you two have been friends for who knows how long.” Darren interjected, “Probably as long as Historia’s been friends with Estel.”

Wait what? This wasn’t information in any of the novels, or background information on Amor’s social media… The hole in my stomach worsened. I was fearing these unknown pieces of information. Why isn’t it one for one like in the novel? Historia and Rosaria were supposed to only know each other in Nightfall Academy, not anything prior.

What didn’t help was Historia’s little comment either. On the surface, it sounded like she was worried about me and our friendship. But, she acted like I was too dumb enough to hear the blatant insults she hurled at me.

Before I could say anything else, the clock on the central tower began to chime, signaling everyone to head to their classes. Students began rushing to their destination before the professors began yelling at them, and we were no different.

Darren fake coughed and motioned us to follow him. “Come ladies, we wouldn't want professor Griswald to nag us about how ‘missing old plays’ will deter our mind.”

As we sped through the mass of students coming into the halls from the courtyards, and the others that were shoving others past the ivory walls, we made it to class. It was a small quaint room with wooden tables with cubbies underneath. A black chalkboard at the front of the class with windows facing the hallways and magical lights to keep it lit.