Stigmata

I am not a Fool

"Oh, Freddy," the mage continued, his voice high pitched and clearly altered by magic. He bat his eyelashes flirtatiously as Frederick tried in vain to avoid his embrace. "It's been so long since I last saw you. I was beginning to wonder if you had cast me aside for someone with a better lineage like my mother told me you would. I knew she was wrong about you!" Lie.

What...what exactly was I watching?

As if sensing his audience, the mage turned dark eyes toward me. "Who is this?" He demanded of Frederick, sounding just like a jilted lover in one of the old telenovelas in my previous life. "Was my mother right about you?"

I found myself smiling at the dramatics. Was there anyone who would fall for something like that?

"Frederick," the Duke said lowly. I looked down at him, surprised to see the anger on his face. "Who is this young lady?"

Hmm?

I looked from my uncle to the mage and back again. Was there something I wasn't seeing? The mage was wearing his robes in the male fashion, so there shouldn't be any confusion—!

Unless...

Was there...an illusion at work?

That made the most sense, given the situation. If the mage was using an illusion to mess around with Frederick, then everyone else was seeing something completely different from me.

After all, illusions had no effect on me.

With another glance at my uncle's increasingly dangerous expression, I decided to rescue my poor idiot cousin.

I folded my hands together at my waist and bowed lowly, as a servant would to their master. I had hoped that I would never have to lower my head like this again, but I wasn't in the Capital, yet. To think, my years in the monastery would actually have some use.

Aiyah~, Freddy had better be grateful.

"This lowly one greets you, Ser Knight," I said in a monotonous voice perfected after years of greeting 'important' guests. "How may I be of service to you?"

I could feel the weight of everyone's gazes, but I kept my head lowered. Aiyah~, why was I missing my veil, all of a sudden? I felt so exposed.

"Aha, forgive me, priestess. I didn't recognize your status and made a fool of myself." Truth. Without the magic disguising it, his voice was warm and mellow. "Please forgive me."

I rose from my bow, but didn't straighten entirely. To maintain the façade—and keep my resemblance to the Royal Family hidden—I kept my gaze on his boots.

"Not at all," I made sure my tone was the perfect blend of amused and condescending. "It is good to see the young Duke getting along with his friends."

Phrasing it that way made it seem like I was a priestess in the Shay family's employ. A priestess was a symbol of morality. Offending one, even by accident, was considered a slight against their temple and, by extension, their God. A lot of the priestesses at the monastery liked to lord their superiority over me before my stigmata was revealed. Given that most of them were commoners or low ranking nobility before donning white, I suppose it was natural that some of them would let the newfound power go their heads. When else would someone born with low status be able to rebuke a Royal Knight?

All I had to do was channel some of their arrogance while putting on a show of humility and bam! A perfectly hypocritical priestess! Even if my dress wasn't quite right, it was the right color and my attitude was flawless. I was totally confident the mage would completely overlook me. Otherwise, I never would have risked calling attention to myself.