AN: WELL! It's been awhile, eh?

Sorry about that. It's not that I had writers' block, it's just my mental state has been in the dumps especially recently and I didn't have the desire to write anything (even though I had the ideas in my head). This story is still super fun and simple for me to write though so I don't see myself quitting this story, no worries!

Before we begin, quick response to the lovely SilentAltair: Thank you! And yes, Hubert finding out that there is an imposter among us is certainly a "when" instead of an "if". "How?" Is the more intriguing question at this point. And YES I love(d) "I was Reincarnated as a Villainess" and it certainly helped inspire this story—for like the first two episodes, and then Catarina stopped being an active protagonist and I kinda just dropped it lol. Let me know if this happens here! I don't want OC!El to stop being on her toes for more than a few moments!

Anyways, here is the next chapter, hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four: No Rest for the Imposter

I open the third and final drawer of the vanity and find it completely empty.

Frowning, I slam it back and stand, hands on my robe clad hips before migrating to the elegantly decorated closet doors and throwing them open. Two dresses, a blouse and a pair of pants are there—the one I wore to my failed public coronation, the breezier white one I've been wearing for two days now, and the outfit I wore today for training. I open the boxes sitting beneath the hanging gowns, but just as I figured, it's only the shoes and accessories I've previously worn.

See, I had an epiphany of sorts in the bath, which actually was waiting for me after training with Ferdinand. All decked out in rose petals and trays of pastries and the water was heavenly and I really want to find whoever—

Anyway,

I need to adopt Edelgard's personality before I'm stretched-raked for identity theft, and people own all sorts of things that give a glimpse into their personality. Things like a worn stuffed animal to show that they're nostalgic, clothes stained in grass to show that they love going out for walks (and maybe rolling down hills), a diary most of all, to showcase their deepest, dearest desires and fears.

But Edelgard is—to my very, very, very deep disappointment—an exception. She has nothing; no stuffed animals, no clothes, no diary, no letters, no toys, no anything except for a painted little girl glaring judgmentally at me from her gilded frame.

"That doesn't make any sense," I mutter to myself as I peek beneath the bed and feel around for loose floorboards. How could she have nothing? That could only mean that somebody had cleared out her room but that also made no sense! Edelgard is technically dead but nobody knows that except for me; why would they feel the need to get rid of her stuff? Was she really gone for that long? And even that isn't a very good reason!

I stand up with a sigh and turn to the glaring, younger brunette version of my new body. "Don't suppose you know where all your stuff went?"

Silence.

"Oh well, thanks anyway."

"You are...conversing with a painting of yourself."

I shriek and jump in surprise before whirling around, my wet hair smacking me in the face and creating a silvery blindfold.

A loud, hissing sigh permeates through the room, dripping with poison disdain as I stumble back in disorientation and crash against the vanity with an "oof!"

"I wonder if the Prime Minister was right after all," A sardonic drawling voice I now recognize as Lord Arundel says as I push my hair away. "Pressure doesn't always make diamonds...it sometimes destroys halfway decent material."

...ouch.

"What are you doing, Edelgard?" He continues.

"...how long were you watching me?"

"I asked you a question."

I flinch at his tone, and duck my head, memories of angry adults with whip-like tongues come soaring back and they all stand shoulder to shoulder with Lord Arundel, glaring at me. "U-um, I finished taking a bath and I was just looking for...something."

"Ah," Lord Arundel smiles mirthlessly. "You were doing...nothing."

"I've just finished training!" I exclaim in defense. "I couldn't put back on regular clothes all—"

"That was an hour ago. You were frolicking in a bathtub and looking for Adrestia knows what for a total of an hour. In conclusion, you were doing nothing."

I frown and blink in surprise. An hour? Well, that bath was very good…

"It seems I haven't been clear enough with you," Lord Arundel says darkly as he strides towards me. I attempt to stumble back only to hit the vanity again before he grabs my face and forces me to look him in the eyes. "I have worked too hard on my plans for your baffling incompetence to send it all tumbling to the Eternal Flames, so let me make this clear, niece." He pulls me in closer and digs his nails more into my cheeks. I whimper in both pain and dread as he hisses, "Shape up with haste. I will not hesitate to send you back."

I furrow my brow as curiosity and confusion both bob into existence within my sea of abject terror. Send me back? He lets my face go and my gaze flickers to the scars on my shoulder left exposed by the jostled sleeve of my robe. Back...where?

I turn back to Lord Arundel and mentally contemplate asking for clarification—except he's gone. That nerve-wracking encounter could've all been a dream if it hadn't been for the burning crescent moons pressed red into my cheek.

"Back...back...back…" I mumble under my breath, rubbing out the nail bites with shaking fingers before turning back to the painting. "What'd he do to you?" I ask.

That question repeats itself over and over again as I go for lunch and I feel the scars burning beneath my makeup. That and an even scarier question:

What could he do to me?

I've decided I don't want to know.

This is why, when the maids file in with boxes and makeup kits, they pause in an assorted mixture of shock and horror. Red-eyed and heavy-lidded, I look up from my book of etiquette and smile blearily at them.

"Your Highness!" The head maid cries in horror. "What have you done?"

Well, yesterday when Arundel left I'd picked up that book stack I took from the library and eenie-meenie-miney-moe'd to see which to read first before then deciding that etiquette should take the cake either way. Then I read it, I read it and read it and read it until one of the knights knocked on the door and announced it was time for dinner. So then I brought it with me to the dinner table and read some more and made sure Lord Arundel saw me reading. I didn't even care (much) that some of the nobles were tittering at me for my bad manners...which is ironic now that I think about it. And then when I let the maids dress me for bed, I read some more and smacked myself whenever I was about to fall asleep.

So that's what I've done, because I'm 65% positive that Lord Arundel had threatened me with torture yesterday, and I don't want to test if I can withstand that better than the other kids—and Edelgard herself for that matter. But all I say is, "Couldn't sleep so I…" my voice trails off as my head nods slowly and my eyelids flutter closed. Wow, I've never been so tired; not even back in my old life when I'd finish homework at midnight.

But alas, torture is just a better motivator than a failing grade.

I barely feel the hesitant hands pulling me from bed, and continue blearily swaying and smiling as I'm dressed and slathered with creams and poked. My sleep-standing is abruptly ended in time with the quick tightening of a corset. My posture is forced up as it hugs me snugly and I let out a vague disappointed groan as I stumble groggily towards the vanity where they lead me.

"She should sleep some more," one comments worriedly as I slump onto the stool and wince when my hair is tugged back.

"She cannot," the craggily voice of the Head Maid says firmly. "Lord Arundel is adamant that she rejoin the other girls in class today."

Class? My head jerks back again as its braided with nimble fingers and I worryly question in my sleep heavy voice, "What sort of class?"

"Nothing too taxing, Your Highness," The Head Maid placates me. "And certainly nothing you haven't done before."

Except it absolutely is something I haven't done before, and I won't be able to concentrate because I'm so tired—

But it's fine. I've read the entire etiquette book so now all I have to do is implement what I remember into this class, tired or not. This half-awake state I'm in was all in the name of learning how to…

...to…

As my braided hair is twisted into a tight bun at the back of my head and accented with a violet tulle ribbon, the realization hits me. My mental library is on fire, and I remember jack. The words I'd read only moments before swirl and blur into stupid useless shapes, nevermind the ones I read hours ago. All and all, I'm in a worse position today than I was yesterday becasue in my tired state, the chances of me saying or doing something stupid have just raised to 300%.

As frustration spurs my cheeks to burn and my eyes to line with tears, I let out a burst of incredulous laughter and slam my head against the vanity wood. The maids make surprised squeaks of surprise and murmurs of worry as my sob/laugh session commences.

Sorry for the language but…I am well and truly fucked and there's no other way to put it.

My makeup has to be redone after my five minute breakdown, and when I'm led out (probably very late) for my class by a flock of sympathetically cooing maids, The Head one mutters, "Careful with her today…it seems it's all caught up with her a bit."

I don't even realize she's talking to Lord Vestra until he materializes by my side and leads me forward with a light hand on the small of my back. That hand swiftly switches to firmly gripping my elbow after stumbling and tripping on my dress three times through sleep deprived tunnel vision.

"Lady Edelgard…if I may speak freely?"

"Hm? Okay s…sure," I mumble as I stagger again. The knight walking on the opposite side of Lord Vestra grabs my other elbow to aid in holding me up like I'm a puppet with cut strings.

"I believe it would be more prudent for you to reclaim your energy with breakfast and perhaps coffee?"

"Don't like coffee," I slur as my eyelids droop. "Can't go anyways. Late."

"I'm sure you can manage to miss one sewing lesson," Lord Vestra insists. "Especially if partaking in such an activity in your state will most likely cause you to harm yourself."

I don't even know what he's saying, I feel like I'm drowning in a thick syrupy liquid that's leeching away my sense and energy and everything is swimming, swimming, swimming around in it. I just hum in agreement as my eyes flutter shut, vaguely remembering that I don't like swimming.

'I like water, though,' is the thought that awaits me in the darkness. And I do. But not pool water, pool water smells awful, the smell of chemicals and urine burns my nose and reminds me of those horribly freezing winter swimming lessons at the nearby highschool…

"Lady Edelgard?"

I jolt with a gasp in an unfamiliar room. Its walls are painted red and cluttered with portraits, an annoying grandfather clock tick, tick, ticks away in the corner and an ornate mahogany table with two steaming mugs and a saucer rests in the centre of it. I'm half laying across a red and gold patterned loveseat and my body is only slightly less dead-on-its-feet. Lord Vestra sits by my side with a hand on my shoulder, a mixture of emotions flickering rapid fire in his visible bright green eye.

"Was I asleep for long?" I ask groggily.

"Only a half-hour," Lord Vestra says and I groan and press my palms against my face. "I've really missed that stupid sewing class, haven't I?"

Lord Vestra frowns and shakes his head. "I genuinely don't see why it matters so much to you; your recovery is paramount."

I let out a light scoff. "Tell that to Lord Arundel."

Lord Vestra's eye flashes and his frown deepens into a dark scowl. "You've seen how effective that is, I'm sure."

I wince. "I know. I'm sorry this…isn't your fault."

Lord Vestra looks almost bewildered by this statement, leaning back slightly and blinking rapidly. "I mean it! It isn't," I insist, hesitate, then place a hand atop his. "I know every bit of sense you tell those stupid nobles have been falling on deaf ears but the effort is sweet. Very sweet and appreciated." I try giving him a smile as well but a sudden yawn ruins it.

As my body slumps back against the soft cushions and my eyes fall shut once more, Lord Vestra slides his hand from under mine. I feel the cushion rise and hear the sound of creaking floorboards before the smell of something warm and bitter hits my nose.

I open my eyes again and see a floral coffee filled teacup atop an equally decorated saucer held in front of me. I sit up and give Lord Vestra a tired thankful smile as I take it from him, but his face has become unreadable once more.

He returns to the table to get a second cup before sitting beside me again without a word. I glance at him with a frown before turning back to my own coffee, bringing it to my lips and sipping lightly. The bitter flavour has me wrinkling my nose and making a sound of discomfort, but I try not to make my dislike for the drink be too obvious. It was a kind gesture, after all.

It is, thankfully, also a gesture that works in my favour. My mental library is being doused, and my eyes are considerably less droopy. Unfortunately it doesn't fix the nagging dread about what Lord Arundel will do once he's realized I've jipped out on sewing lessons…or the now very awkward silence in the room (minus that stupid clock).

I take another tentative sip of my coffee, try not to choke on the flavour again, and say, "Hey."

Lord Vestra turns to me and I wince. Ugh! Again with the too casual language! Luckily, he doesn't seem all too bothered by it this time around, and only responds with, "Lady Edelgard?"

"You seemed surprised…by what I said. Why?"

There is a pregnant pause in which his gaze searches mine before he turns back to his coffee and responds with, "I didn't expect you to forgive me so readily. I assumed you'd be avoiding me and calling me by naught but my title for years."

I want to ask, "For what?" but bite my tongue, that question would open a whole can of worms that started with, "You don't remember?" and ending with, "Guards!"

So instead I nod slowly as if I know what the hell he's talking about, mentally groan at apparently having been too formal with him, and give him another smile. "I'd be silly not to forgive you; like I said, you've been defending me from those hoity-toity idiots."

"And yet I cannot undo the damage they've done," he utters dully. "You…you've changed, Lady Edelgard. So thoroughly and completely that some days I wonder…"

Uh-oh.

He shakes his head. "Nothing. It's best you finish before Arundel attempts to summon you again."

I shudder despite the warm drink filling my belly, imagining the tall violet eyed man charging in and dragging me to some cold torture dungeon.

I don't think I've ever been so scared of someone in my life and he hasn't even done anything to me yet. I just have this feeling, this knowing that he isn't a man that throws around threats lightly.

"What do you think he'll do to me?" I ask in a tiny voice. "Arundel, when he realizes I've missed class?"

Lord Vestra—erm, what was it that Ferdinand had called him? Herbert, I think—says, "He won't dare do anything to you now, not when you're so clearly off peak performance."

That…that made sense. I feel the fear I'd had since yesterday melt away slightly and I sigh in relief. But just to be sure, I press, "And you know that for sure?"

Herbert frowns and inclines his head. "I'm...afraid not, Lady Edelgard."

Lovely.

I slump into the seat with a groan, the caffeine and the brand new information that Lord Arundel is an unpredictable maniac spiking my anxiety higher than before. I tap my foot irritably and chew on my lip before blurting out, "Well then now what? Clearly late night cramming is doing more harm than good but that guy is so fu—fudging impatient that I can't just get back into the swing of things naturally! I am screwed!"

"Calm yourself," Herbert says, placing a hand on my bouncing knee. "You simply need further aid; Ferdinand—" his lips curl into a light snarl of distaste. "—can continue to tutor you in weaponry and I—"

"Magic!" I perk up and clasp his hand tightly. He gives me a startled look as I continue, "Yes, that's right you promised to show me magic! I can just use it to beam all the relevant information into my brain like The Matrix—!"

"The what?"

I'm too hyped to care about my historically inaccurate (and most likely universally inaccurate) reference before feverishly asking, "Can I beam information into my brain with magic, or no?"

Herbert blinks slowly at me before gently freeing his hand and placing mine back onto the sofa. "No," he says simply.

I frown and slump my shoulders. Foiled...but wait—!

"Can I...make a clone of myself to appease everyone while I get back into shape?"

"Yes."

I beam, hope unfurling its wings in my chest once more.

"But illusions without decades of practice or the appropriate Crest will not fool any mage worth their title—Lord Arundel especially."

The wings are set on fire and I slump back into the couch with a sigh. What's the point of stupid magic if it can't let you make stupid shortcuts?

"I will of course, still teach you, however," Herbert says. "I simply can't promise any shortcuts to dealing with...him."

I suppose that's the best I can hope for. I just need to think of a way to stay on my toes that doesn't involve sleep deprivation. Maybe I can talk to my not-Father about it during lunch. Nodding to myself, I finish off the coffee and turn to him with another smile. "Thank you, Herbert."

He frowns.

Fu—

"I meant, Humbert, obviously," I say with an awkward laugh as I hit the side of my head with the back of my palm. "I'm…I'm still tired as you can see…uh…alright." I take in a deep breath. "Thank you for the coffee, and the reassurance." I place the empty teacup and its saucer on the table before smoothing out my dress. "I feel much better now."

He hesitates, then nods. "I'm glad, this is what I'm here for, after all."

"And I'm happy you're here; I'd be eaten up without you."

And I do mean it. Humbert seems genuinely lovely.

A shame that our relationship can't be built on honesty but…that's just how the cookie crumbles.

C'est la Vie, and all that.

AN: This one is—like the last one—shorter than the first two chapters, but I feel like this length is perfect because those first two seem VERY long now that I'm re-reading it...

Anyways, let me know what kind of chapter length you guys prefer and I'll take it into account! Thanks for reading aaaaaaand

Fantasy Fan OUT!

(WOO that rhymed!)