“And why not? Are you mad at me? I’m sorry, Sunshine, I didn’t mean to neglect you. The memorial and Father’s business has been keeping me quite busy.”

She pressed her lips together. Emmaline would’ve forgiven him and run into his arms for a reconciliatory hug. Em crossed her arms, watching him warily.

“Only Father may call me that.”

“Oh.” He dropped his arms down and gave her a pained smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that. Will you come here for a hug?”

Should she?

She stared at him as she mulled over how to reply.

The Lost Prince had been outside of both Em’s and Maddie’s preferred genres. Maddie liked bloody stories, especially who-dun-it’s and thrillers. Em loved coming of age. And more recently, romances. Which was an experience she never expected to have.

Both preferred good endings because, they agreed, their lives were blue enough without reading more hopelessness.

The Lost Prince had been a tragedy story.

They thought at first it was a Maddie story, but though it had plenty of gore, it did not end happily.

Most of the characters had unhappy pasts and unhappy endings. And most of the characters were there just to make the tyrannical protagonist’s life easier.

Emmaline Grimshaw, for example, had a backstory that was told in roughly three paragraphs. Then she spent the rest of the story either bullying the people around her or cowering at the protagonist’s feet.

It was pathetic.

But those three paragraphs had been very… enlightening.

Em knew exactly how Emmaline started on her tragic journey to being a footstool. Even if she didn’t know the fine details between the two sets of circumstances.

How would this man, Emmaline’s brother, react if Em revealed some of her cards?

That would make this dream more interesting.

“No, I don’t want a hug from you.”

“Emmaline,” he said earnestly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have neglected you. Please, can we be friends again?”

The part of her that was Emmaline twisted in grief. The other part was… annoyed.

She sneered at him.

“I don’t hug murderers.”

“What?”

If his eyebrows had shot off his face, he couldn’t have looked more surprised.

Em folded her arms and scowled at him.

“You heard me. I. Don’t. Hug. Murderers.”

“Emmaline, what are you talking about?”

She huffed, took two steps closer, and leaned forward into his face. “I know what you did,” she whispered. “You hired the bad men to make the accident. Mother and Father are both gone because of you.”

This time, he looked like he’d been slapped.

He gaped at her, unable to find any words. Then his eyes narrowed in fury and he whipped his head around.

Looking at Tracy.

Oops.

“What is she talking about?! What nonsense have you been spewing to her?!”

“I- it- I-”

Tracy stuttered in confusion as Felix jumped to his feet and started marching toward her.

Em hadn’t wanted a particular reaction, but this definitely wasn’t on her radar. Even though a part of her was saying, This is a dream, no one will get hurt… She still ran ahead to get between him and her maid.

“Why are you blaming Tracy?”

“Move, Emmaline.”

She folded her arms and glared up at him. “If you must blame someone, then you better blame god. Because it was a god that told me.”

That was sort of true, right? The author could be a sort of god, yes?

This time, he took a step back. Paling.

That’s right, like many people back home, people here believed in God. Actually, they believed in the existence of gods more here than back home. You didn’t do anything major without a god’s approval.

Had he really jumped into this nonsense without getting that approval? Not that they were a huge factor, just they could make a lot of problems if you didn’t have it.

“Which god would tell a child such lies?”

“Loki,” she lied. “Loki told me all about it.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Felix threw back his head in a laugh. It made the hair on her arms stand up.

“Did he, now? You do realize that Loki is the god of mischief and tricks, yes?” He leaned down so their noses were only inches apart. “Sweet Sunshine, you can’t believe in Loki.”

If it meant getting Tracy out of trouble…

“He said if you’re still alive by next month, then I can assume he was lying.”

He smiled cheerfully and ruffled her loose hair. Em scowled and stepped back.

“I’m sorry, young master.” Tracy bowed and held the position. “I didn’t realize any of this was going on.”

Felix waved a hand.

“It’s fine.” He gave Em a bright smile. “I’ll prove my innocence by surviving long after next month. The memorial is in seven days, just make sure she’s ready.”

“Yes, young master.”

Don’t count on it, Em thought as she watched him walk away.

Because to ensure his death happened, all she had to do was the easiest thing in the world.

Absolutely nothing.

***

Em sat at a table by her window. Before leaving for other duties, Tracy had left Em with three plates of different cookies and a cup of tea.

She was thinking about the day she’d had.

Was this how Maddie felt when she was trying to get away with something? Provoking the stupidhead had been a lot more fun than she expected. It made her chuckle as she reached for a cookie and tasted the mildly sweet, vanilla flavor.

Yes. Even though she knew it was only a day in this dream world, she’d had a lot of fun.

She’d run in the garden. Noticed her lungs taking full breaths without wheezing or coughing. Felt the sunshine and the breezes like they were gifts from an angel to her skin.

It was the best day she’d had in a very, very long time.

The chair was a little too big for her, so she kicked her legs and skimmed her toes against the floor.

The only thing that would have made it better was if Maddie had been there.

It made her sad.

Either she’d never see her sister again… or she’d only have a short time. But should she allow that separation to dictate if she enjoyed herself or not?

It wouldn’t change anything if she refused a second, ok, a fourth cookie, just because Maddie wasn’t here to share it.

Em nodded her head in decision.

Yes.

She’d enjoy the cookies. And she’d enjoy running, walking, climbing, and everything else she had to give up in the real world. She might even do things here she could never dream of back home.

Like riding a horse.

Her memories said she had a pony she’d be allowed to ride again after the memorial.

She chuckled. If she had time before the long darkness came, she’d tell Maddie all about all of her adventures here.

But, first, she had a few things she needed to do. Because there was no way in the world she was going to live the life of the original Emmaline Grimshaw.

First.

She got up and went to her bookshelf. In consideration of the memorial, she’d been given three weeks off from her studies. Which included the basics of magic. Though her tutor had told Felix just two weeks ago that he didn’t expect Em to excel in magic and should focus on other things.

She pulled down the beginner’s book of magical theory and opened it to the first page.

Yes. Her memories as Emmaline were accurate.

Magic was a manifestation of aura, which was linked to the natural world and usually expressed itself most dominantly in a particular element.

Though in theory anyone with an aura could wield any element, they were most likely to achieve their highest potential if they stuck to their best element. And also in theory, one could continuously grow their powers until the moment of death. Though how quickly and by how much depended on the individual.

Emmaline had no specific element that worked for her more than the others. They were all equally weak.

Right now, anyway.

Em wondered if the tutor had been lazy in his diagnoses or if Emmaline had had the potential to develop any of the elements to the same degree.

Regardless, in this one area Em wasn’t planning to change anything.

She just wanted to make sure her dream-like ability to ‘know’ things was working. So she’d be able to understand and remember how to use her abilities.

Now, for a test subject.

Preferably something that couldn’t talk.

She put the book away and left her room.

No one paid attention to the child wandering around the building by herself. They were too busy cleaning, dusting, arranging, and a whole slew of other things to make the building look like more like a museum than it already did.

She ended up in the kitchen.

Cook wasn’t happy.

He was standing over a pile of crates, bags, and buckets. Yelling something about missing ingredients for the pies. Then Cook swung a fist and barely missed when the young kitchen helper ducked to avoid the blow.

The boy stumbled back and held up both hands defensively.

“That was all they dropped off! I swear, I never touched the apples.”

Cook swore again. Then he choked, and Em realized a heartbeat later he was looking at her.

“Young miss, what are you doing here?”

“I want to practice my magic. Is there a hurt cat or other critter around here?”

Every single person who heard the conversation flinched. They were probably all thinking the same thing, too.

Poor cat.