BACK TO NOW

 Now, I was screwed. 

 Morning came, with my face squished deep into my feather-down pillows, too terrified to acknowledge that I was awake. But I hadn't slept. 

 

 I have to act. I have to get ahead of this. But all I could think of was how I was trapped. I buried myself deeper into my bed. 

 

 Judging from the pale orangey light sneaking under my eyelashes, my attendants would enter my chambers in under an hour to dress me and go over my responsibilities for the day. From then on, I wouldn't be alone. With a great mental push I slid my body off my bed onto the cold stone floor. Blindly, I reached under the mattress for my for the parchment in its hiding place. 

 Come on, Amacia. You've got this. I knew the future. Surely I could get the upper hand. If I couldn't think of any way forward but to work with Giselle, I could use her to my advantage. 

 

 What in there actually looked true to my lived experience? 

 One, Ewen was a dick. 

 Two, Giselle was a saintess. 

 Three, Amacia was evil. 

 Giselle only knew about one of those things. No wonder she had reacted so strongly. She actually thought the real Amacia was a victim. But Amacia was a villainess. I knew that, because I was living in the wake of her destruction. 

 If I could expose Amacia's evil plan, Giselle wouldn't want her back. She'd already gotten what she deserved - a dagger to the heart. And I, the new Amacia, was much more useful to a saintess in hiding. We didn't need to be friends, or lovers. We only needed an ally - and Giselle's position was much more precarious than she'd ever realised. We were both witches in the eyes of the people, and we could help each other live. 

 She just needed to listen to me. 

 But was the Giselle who could lie, and turn murderous, coquettish or cruel on a dime someone who responded to reason? I hadn't known that woman with a dagger to my throat at all. Three weeks, and all I'd come to know was a mask. I'd thought I was winning at this impersonation game, but she'd seen all my cards from the start. 

 I needed to tell her the truth, in a way that spoke to both her emotions and her reasons. Whatever she wanted, I had to show her the only way she could get it was with me, not her former bestie. 

 To do that, I needed to figure out what she wanted. 

 To do that, I needed to keep myself alive long enough to hold an honest conversation with that terrifying creature. 

 There was still so much to do to prepare. 

 "Hello, friend," came a silken voice from totally the wrong direction. 

 A billow of white rippled across my eyes. Giselle was standing in front of my window, framed brilliantly by the flaming sunrise, in a nightgown of pale, undulating gossamer-light fabric, a poisonous moth. If I'd known her less, I'd have called her an angel.

 I yanked my covers up to my neck, burying my parchment deep by my feet. "How did you get in here?" 

 Giselle smiled, and floated across the room before alighting on my bed. "I climbed, of course. I am a woman of many talents." Her eyes narrowed. "I couldn't wait to hear your voice again. I couldn't sleep at all last night, you know. When I am done, I will emerge from your room, flush-faced, and no one will say anything, as they never have before. You will be alive, or you will be dead. My darling, we have much to talk about." 

I told her everything I told her last night, adding details to try and make it seem less ridiculous. She listened, brow furrowed, deadly serious. Every now and again into my rambling she'd interrupt with a question, and I'd answer according to some trope or another, while she was quietly engaged as ever. Eventually, I trailed off, hoping it was enough and also made anything close to sense. 

 "So, I am the protagonist of this... novel? Who is Amacia?" 

 It was time for my trump card. “In the story, Amacia is the villain. Against you. Like, totally evil. Again and again, she betrays you, from the beginning. She was sleeping with your fiancé - did you know that? In the story she was, and here she was as well.”

 Giselle snorted. I stared at her. She shrugged her shoulders, half smirking. “Yes, I did know that.”

 That made no sense. But I pushed on. “She – she was the witch. She made you think you were a witch, so she could control you and steal your powers. But she was the witch and you –“  Now I was saying it out loud, to this Giselle, I realised how outlandish it sounded. “You are the true Saintess of Alevia. Your powers… were given to you directly by God… to save the Queendom,” I trailed off, faltering, as Giselle stuffed her palm into her mouth to stifle her laughter. Seeing I’d stopped, she bit down on it and stared at me.

 “You already know about your powers, don’t you?” I said, irritated. “You used them in front of me!”

 Letting out a honk of laughter, she fell onto my bed, clutching her stomach. “My powers! Yes!” she gasped. “Given by god?!” She reached for my arms, tugging until I collapsed beside her. “You poor fool. Whoever wrote that tale has deceived you. You, see,” she uttered, staring hungrily into my eyes, “There are no Saints in this world. For there is no God. There are only demons. And there are only witches. I chose to be a witch. And so I became one.”

 “So –“ I tried to squirm out of her grasp. “You are a witch then, too?”

 “Yes! I’m a witch. Amacia was a witch. And, now you’ve snatched her body, you are one too!”

 "I never sold my soul to a demon or anything!" 

 “Being a witch always comes from a choice. You give a piece of your freedom away, in exchange for power. Yet - it is not always your own choice. This body has already been promised. And for now, it is you.”

  So, I was a witch. 

 Giselle turned away. I'd gotten to her, finally. Then she spun back to me, dagger flashing in the morning light. “You think that’s gonna throw me off?! I can still kill you well enough, and that’s all I need!” She raked her non-dagger-holding hand through her hair. "Listen to me. This story you're telling me about. It has echoes of the truth. It gave you enough to assume you were in it. But it's just wrong. If it exists, it was written by someone who has no clue what's going on beneath the surface. What's really happening right now in Alevia. Otherwise, you would not be here. And you would not be talking to me."