It's Pretty Damn Efficient

It's a curse, and it's growing

Athanasia had been sleeping a lot now.

Lucas says that sleeping is the closest way to get to your inner soul without dying. Which is odd- because she's died multiple times at this point, hasn't she?

It's like something's blocking it off, holding her back.

The safety railings.

~

Felix was pissed.

This was rare, and absolutely terrifying. Most of the time, Felix was happy-go-lucky, claiming it kept morale up. And it did, most of the time.

Whenever he was this angry-- it either meant they were going to war, or someone has deeply wronged him.

"Felix?" Athanasia inquired hesitantly. "Is something wrong?"

Felix's murderous gaze softened down into something, something like affection, before he ruffles her hair and smiles. "Don't worry about it."

~

The next day, Athanasia is called to the Emperor's Quarters.

~

Athanasia blinks. The emperor looks frailer than she remembered. 

His eyes hold heavy bags under them, his breathing slightly ragged. Claude kept blinking sleepily, doing his best to focus on Athanasia.

He still held that royal, "I'm a shining solo" vibes, but dampened.

A cough. "So."

"So," Athanasia repeats awkwardly.

Claude eyes her, squinting, before asking. "How old are you again?"

"15, sir. I'm going turn 16 this month."

"Ah, so I'm a bit late." Claude yawns, obviously fatigued, but he pushes through. "Not like it matters though. You're having a debutante."

"I'm having a what?"

~

And suddenly, Athanasia understands why Felix was so pissed.

~

In less than a week, Athanasia has been forced into a mold that no longer suits her. She's stuffed into dress after dress, maids fumbling at her feet, and gloves being tugged onto her hands to hide her callouses. It's funny how this is what she's yearned for so long. This is what she's been dreaming of ever since her first life, and now that she has it, it doesn't suit her.

At least she has Lucas, who has decided to join her in her little adventure in the Emerald Palace.

"If you want, I can play bodyguard." He offers. "You can deal with thugs on the street, no problem, but can you deal with etiquette? People, God forbid?"

Athanasia doesn't know if she can anymore, and she's oh so afraid.

~

It disturbs her in a strange way.

Never before has Claude acted on his own accord, at least when it came to Athanasia. In her last life, Jennette had made it to the Emerald Palace without a debutante in the first place. And now she's nowhere to be seen and Athanasia is taking her place.

What changed?? She wonders. Is somebody pulling strings? What happened to Claude?

~

It's Athanasia's 16th birthday, and she decides right then and there she hates it.

Lucas was by her side, and that was the only thing going to plan. Before Claude, Lucas and Athanasia had been discussing it. Athanasia had been forced into agreeing to a self-care day, where she did nothing but relax while Lucas applies all sorts of face masks to her face.

But no, here she was, in a stuffy party that she doesn't want to be at, in a stuffy dress that was admittedly pretty yet suffocating, staring down nobles who want to approach but don't, due to Lucas standing by her side scowling at anyone who comes close.

It's Athanasia's debutante as the crown princess, and as she fiddles with her dress, she listens as her father's hoarse voice claims her as his daughter. She watches as Felix holds a tight, uncomfortable smile at the emperor's side, pain hidden in his eyes.

And Athanasia frowns, praying to God this is over soon.

~

(They do end up having their self-care day, though. Athanasia whines as Lucas smears some green goop onto her face, filling her nose with all sorts of odd fumes in an attempt to get her to calm down. It was relaxing, but not in the way Lucas intended.)

~

Anastacius sits and watches as his captor frantically swaps between the states of, "I am not here, not conscious," to "this needs to be written down immediately."

It's so hard to figure out why he was taken, why he's here, and why they're acting so crazy.

"I need to remember," they mutter. "I have to remember."

"Remember what?" Anastacius calls. The man in front of him turns sharply and hisses, hurling a pillow at his face.

And then they blink, blank faced once more, scowling as they sit back down and tamper with a jar of... something.

Anastacius simply sighs.

He doesn't know why he's here. In general, he means.

Tilting his head to the side, Anastacius cranes his neck and does his best to read what's being written on the paper in front of him.

~

.. .----. -- / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ... / - --- --- / .-.. .- - .

.. / ... .-- . .- .-. / .. / .-- --- -. .----. - / -... . / - .... .. ... / - .. -- .

.. / .--- ..- ... - / -. . . -.. / - --- / .-. . -- . -- -... . .-.