“This is…” She opened the book on the first page. “The original Artemisia’s sketchbook? And it’s dated to only a few months ago.”

Somewhat hesitantly, Artemisia skipped through the first few pages. Wow, she actually was a good artist.

A little while ago, she had discovered a collection of finished paintings on thin canvas in a chest hidden in the depths of the wardrobe. However, those had all been watercolour or oil landscapes, and although they were clearly the work of an experienced artist, they had all been somewhat lifeless, as if there was something missing from them.

...But these are drawings of people or of objects, and there’s such life to them! Even as loose as they are, they’re… beautiful, somehow. Hey, this page is all studies of Elise! Look at how she’s captured the folds of her clothes.

Looking through the pages as if in a trance, Artemisia found her hand flexing, as if desiring a pencil in her hand.

I’ve never felt the desire to draw before, but looking at these… it’s strange.

Some of the sketches had scribbled notes next to them, usually self-criticisms, but a few seemed to be thoughts straight from the original Artemisia’s mind.

Topher is a self-centred fool, read one. Artemisia laughed. “He’s not that bad… is he?”

She cooed over some drawings of Elspeth, especially one where her grubby hands were outstretched, grinning from ear to ear.

“Despite never warming to Emile, she clearly adored Elspeth. She was much fonder of her than I am, anyway. I never know how to act around kids.”

Artemisia sighed, and suddenly closed the sketchbook, replacing it in the bookshelf.

Just another reminder that I am an imposter in this world.

That night, she had strange dreams, ones that she only half-remembered when she woke up.

A paintbrush in her hand, rushing across a canvas. Then a fan, snapping it open and then shut as laughter rang in her ears. Wiping her eyes, and her handkerchief coming away soaked with tears.

The tears followed her into the morning, eliciting concern from Elise.

“Just… bad dreams, that’s all. Do you think I can cover these up?” Artemisia replied, indicating the red marks around her eyes.

“I’ll do it, my lady! Never fear, for I will have you looking like you’ve never cried in your life!”

Artemisia chuckled. “Thank you, Elise. Where would I be without you?”

Elise puffed up with pride. “I do my utmost best to make myself irreplaceable to you!”

“And you are. Perhaps I should speak with the head of staff about your pay.”

“My lady?” Elise’s eyes shone. “You need not go that far!”

“Nonsense. You should at the very least receive a bonus for all the extra help you’ve given me as I’ve recovered. And don’t you dare cry, for I won’t be covering up your puffy eyes.”

“Of course not, my lady! Now, stay still.”

“Lady Artemisia, there are two letters for you. If you don’t mind me saying, I believe by the handwriting that one of them is from your brother.”

“My brother?” Artemisia echoed. “But why would he send me a letter when we live in the same… oh! Hansel!”

She took the letters from the manservant and dismissed him before returning to her cosy armchair by the window. She’d taken to spending her mornings in the appropriately named morning room adjoining the breakfast room, which had cosy chairs and large windows. That day, Marianne had joined her and the two of them had been sitting in companionable silence, each preoccupied with their own projects.

“From Hansel?” Marianne asked; Artemisia imagined her as one of those fancy long-nosed dogs, her ears perking up.

“Yes, I sent him one last week.”

“He must have replied almost as soon as he received it then. That’s unlike him; he always takes at least two weeks to reply to mine.”

“The academy must be far if it takes a week to exchange letters,” Artemisia commented absent-mindedly, cracking the seal on Hansel’s letter.

“Oh, it’s not but a few hours’ ride from Seraph,” Marianne said, putting down her crochet. “We’ll be able to have Hansel visit us often when we go for the season.”

Artemisia nodded in response, her attention focused on the letter.

It’s short, not much more than a quick update. He’s doing well in his studies – ooh, he ranked third in the class in his last shooting exam – and he hopes we’re all well at home. Not a mention of friends or anything other than school. Artemisia sighed. I was hoping it might be a little more interesting than that. I’m terribly bored here – not a whisper of a story beat for a while now. I imagine it will all kick off during the season however.

“He’s doing well,” she reported to Marianne. “He asks how everyone is.”

“That’s good.” Marianne looked visibly relieved. “I do worry about him sometimes, off at the academy on his own.”

“If he had any troubles, I’m sure he would tell you,” Artemisia said, then reconsidered. Actually, I’m not sure if he would, as cagey and distant as he can be. Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s a lot I can do about that without giving him a good shake.

She picked up the other letter, noticing that it was made from thick embossed paper that shimmered a little in the light. Turning it over, she examined the seal, and then froze. There she found the dragon and the unicorn that made up the crest of the imperial family.

“What is it, Arte?” Noticing her shocked expression, Marianne got up and came to examine the letter herself. When she saw the seal, she gave an excited gasp and grabbed Artemisia’s shoulders. “Oh! How exciting! It must be an invitation to one of their early gatherings!”

“So soon?” Artemisia queried. But we’re not planning to leave for Seraph for another three weeks!

“The crown princess usually hosts a small party right at the beginning of the season, before the bulk of people arrive in town. It’s considered quite the honour to be invited, especially for one so young as yourself!”

“But… we hardly know each other… do we?” If it turns out that I’m friends with the crown princess I’m actually going to die from anxiety – I can’t handle that!

Marianne patted Artemisia on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, the two of you have only met briefly at a few functions. She’s ten years older than you, so you’re not in the same circles. But for her to invite you… you must have espied her interest somehow!”

“I bet it’s my accident. I did get a short letter from the princesses wishing for my recovery, but I thought it was only a formality!” God, that was the most stressful thank-you card I’d ever written.

“Perhaps, but still! We shall have to get you a new dress – not the ones we’ve already ordered, but something specially for this occasion! I’ll send a letter to the tailor immediately.”

“I haven’t even opened it yet! Hold your horses!”

“Well, make haste! Open it, and read it to me aloud! I want to know what it says, exactly.” Marianne scurried back to her chair and plonked herself down in it, watching Artemisia avidly.

“Dear Lady Artemisia von Lindt,” Artemisia read aloud. “You are cordially invited to attend a gathering at the Monoceri Palace on the thirty-ninth day of this month. We shall have afternoon tea on the lawn followed by entertainment from the Seraph Imperial Orchestra into the evening. Please address your confirmation of attendance or apologies to the Crown Princess’ aide.

“Yours, Her Imperial Highness Sissi Jorumata von Seraph Drakmoniceros, Crown Princess of the Seraphim Empire, Duchess of Montpare and Countess of Vorté.”

“Ohhh!” Marianne exclaimed excitedly. “We’ll have to have two dresses made – one for the day and one for the evening!”

Two new dresses… after all that faff with the tailor the week before last? I don’t know if I can take that again!

“Don’t look so dismayed, Arte. Honestly, you used to love any excuse to have a new dress made!”

“Maybe I will go and see if Emile is free, to tell her the news,” Artemisia said, gathering her things together. I wanna get out of here before she gets started on the ‘old me, new me’ comparisons.

“Oh, yes, of course! Shall I contact the tailor for you?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“No, not at all! I was thinking of amending one or two of the dresses I’ve ordered anyway. Cecilia told me that coloured pearls are less popular this year, so I want to change them for white pearls.”

Artemisia nodded absent-mindedly, already halfway out of the room. Looks like things are finally in motion! A party hosted by the crown princess, at the very beginning of the season – if that’s not relevant to the plot of the story then I don’t know what is!