Chapter 19 The True and False Moonlight
1790words
That counterfeit wearing my face—Anais, had been dismissed by Frederick with a cold and emotionless "get out." Before leaving, the hateful and jealous glance she cast at me almost burned two holes in my body.
As for me, I was "invited" to the center of Frederick's bedchamber. There were no chairs here, so he conjured one with magic and gestured for me to sit down. Then, just across from me, no more than three meters away, he conjured another obsidian throne and slowly sat down.
Then, silence descended.
He did nothing, said nothing, just sat across from me, staring quietly at my face with a gaze I couldn't read at all.
It was an extremely complex look in his eyes. There was scrutiny, like a craftsman examining an antique of questionable authenticity; there was confusion, as if unable to understand why he would sense that faint feeling of familiarity in me, a humble maid; there was nostalgia, buried deep in his eyes, like a sea frozen over, only revealing glimpses of past sparkle in certain moments; but most of all, there was a bone-chilling, heart-stopping coldness and indifference.
I was like a butterfly pinned to the center of a spider web, unable to move, helplessly subjected to that gaze dissecting and slowly torturing me from inside out, inch by inch.
The great hall was terrifyingly quiet, with only the occasional soft "crackle" from the flames on the magical candelabra in the corner. I could even hear the sound of my own blood flowing through my veins, and my heart beating like a drum.
To avoid showing weakness, I also summoned my courage, raised my head, and looked directly at him.
It was fine not looking, but once I did, my heart skipped even more beats.
Ten years, truly a terrifying amount of time. It's enough to transform a slightly chubby, whining and clingy pink bundle who would follow you around into this refined, clear-featured cold monarch before me.
His black hair fell softly over his forehead, with a few strands even brushing against his long eyelashes. His skin was that aristocratic, almost sickly cold white, which made his thin lips appear to have a hint of color. With a high, straight nose and a perfectly curved jawline. Having shed his childish innocence, his every move now carried a natural commanding presence and... a subtle hint of dark charm.
【System Notification: You are staring at the target for an extended period, heart rate +20, mental state showing 'confusion' tendency.】
Unconsciously, I gently swallowed.
"Slap!"
I seemed to hear the crisp sound of a slap in my mind.
【System Prompt: Player 'Self-Loathing' activated, 'Confusion' status has been cleared.】
"Snap out of it! Winifred!" I roared at myself internally, "What the hell are you thinking! You watched him grow up! Even though there was a ten-year gap, he's essentially still that little brat you had to teach magic to step by step! How could you have such dangerous and perverted thoughts about him! You're his mentor! A mentor! Don't you understand what it means to be a role model!"
I subjected myself to self-criticism worthy of a heretical inquisition, finally managing to suppress those inappropriate fantasies.
Time passed second by second in this bizarre, silent staring contest.
I don't know how long it lasted—an hour? Two hours? Or even longer? The extreme mental tension left me feeling utterly exhausted. Especially in the late night hours, an irresistible drowsiness washed over me like a tide.
My eyelids started to fight against each other, and my head became heavy, swaying like a roly-poly doll, nodding bit by bit, as if I would collapse to the ground at any moment.
No... I can't sleep...
What if I fall asleep and this guy gets annoyed and drags me out to feed me to the magic beasts? I pinched my thigh hard, trying to stay awake through the pain.
But the physiological limits are ultimately hard to resist. Just as my consciousness was becoming blurry, my head suddenly jerked forward, and I was about to fall completely into dreamland—
"Tok."
A light sound.
In the center of my forehead, I felt a moderate stinging pain.
I suddenly woke up, completely alert. I covered my forehead and looked across in confusion.
Frederick had withdrawn his hand at some point and maintained his sitting posture as if nothing had happened. But in those deep purple eyes of his, there seemed to be a fleeting, extremely faint trace of amusement.
Did... did he do that?
Before I had time to think deeply, a new wave of drowsiness washed over me. I started nodding off again, clearly about to fall asleep once more...
"Tap."
The same spot, the same moderate force.
"You!" I finally couldn't bear it anymore, glaring at him with shock and anger.
What was he doing? Toying with me?
Frederick ignored my angry glare, his expression not changing in the slightest. He just quietly watched me, as if admiring an interesting toy.
Then, this silent torture began.
Each time, just as I was about to fall asleep, a precise flick to my forehead would arrive right on schedule.
"Tap."
"Tap."
"Tap."
My forehead, which initially felt a stinging pain, then became numb, was now red over a large area. I was about to lose my mind! The mental torment, combined with physical exhaustion, had pushed my sanity to the breaking point.
"What exactly do you want?" I finally couldn't take it anymore and growled.
However, what answered me was still silence. Frederick was like a statue without emotions, just staring at me with his deep, unblinking eyes.
I was desperate. I gave up resisting and decided to throw caution to the wind. Flick my forehead all you want, I'm done with this! At worst I'll become an idiot from your flicking!
Just as I was feeling utterly hopeless, preparing to receive the next "attack," the anticipated pain didn't come.
I opened my eyes in confusion, only to see Frederick standing up. He slowly, step by step, walked toward me.
My heart instantly jumped to my throat. What... what is he going to do? Tired of forehead flicking, is he planning to strangle me directly?
He stood in front of me, his tall figure casting a shadow that completely enveloped me. I nervously shrank back, only to find I had nowhere to retreat, my back pressed firmly against the chair.
Then, he extended his hand.
It was a distinctly jointed, slender, and pale hand. This hand could control the most violent dark magic, could determine the life and death of countless people. And at this moment, it was slowly extending toward my cheek, with a hint of hesitation that even he himself had not noticed.
My mind went blank, completely forgetting how to react.
His fingertips, carrying a touch of coldness, gently made contact with my cheek. Then, his hand cupped around, neither too firmly nor too lightly, pinching my right cheek, and just as I used to pinch his when he was little, he very gently rubbed it back and forth twice.
This gesture...
Boom——!
In my mind, it was as if countless fireworks exploded simultaneously. All the memories, all the images, came flooding back in an instant.
It was ten years ago, in the instructors' lounge at the Royal Academy of Magic. Six-year-old Frederick was lying dejectedly on the table after failing to cast a spell. To cheer him up, I did just this—reached out my hand, pinched his still slightly chubby cheeks, gently rubbed them twice, and smiled saying: "Does our little genius have moments of failure too? Don't be discouraged, it just means you still have plenty of room to improve."
The exact same gesture.
The exact same... sensation.
My body reacted faster than my brain. As if stung by a scorpion, I jerked backward, trying to avoid his touch.
"Thud!"
A solid, dull impact.
The back of my head slammed hard against the wall behind me, without the slightest cushioning.
【System Alert: You have received impact damage, HP-5. Entering 'Stunned' state, duration 3 seconds.】
"Hiss……" The intense pain and sudden dizziness made me see stars, and tears welled up uncontrollably.
As I clutched my head, grimacing in pain, a very light, suppressed chuckle came from above me.
That laughter was soft and brief, yet like a warm current, instantly melting the layer of ice surrounding him.
I looked up in astonishment, meeting his slightly curved purple eyes. In them was a tender smile, like shattered stars, that I had never seen before.
"Fool."
Looking at my pathetic and pained appearance, his thin lips parted to utter a single word.
Then, the smile faded, and his gaze returned to that complex, probing depth. He stared at me, as if looking through my eyes at someone else.
"In this aspect," he said slowly, in a voice that was almost like sleep-talking, "she is indeed quite similar to her."
I certainly knew who "she" was in his words.
Now throughout the entire Demon Palace, from the demon lords and generals above to the most humble servants below, who didn't know that Demon King Frederick had brought back a woman from the mortal realm and named her Anais? That woman had an appearance identical to his lordship's legendary true love mentor—Winifred.
Everyone's gaze upon me was filled with complexity. They both envied me for receiving the Demon King's "favor" that differed from others, yet pitied me for ultimately being just a substitute for a deceased person.
The clichéd substitute trope that never changes—I used to criticize it plenty when reading novels. But I never dreamed that one day, this trope would happen to me exactly as written.
What's the most ironic part?
Not only am I this substitute. That so-called, commemorated, high and mighty original person... is also me.
【System Alert: Core plot restriction activated. You cannot, in any form, actively reveal your true identity to the target. Forceful revelation will lead to unpredictable severe consequences.】
As expected.
I knew this cursed game world wouldn't leave such an obvious bug for me. I can't directly tell him the truth, and I don't even dare to hint too strongly, otherwise he'll just think I'm a scheming impostor deliberately mimicking to gain position, which would make him even more vigilant toward me.
No, I can't just sit and wait for doom.
I must think of another way. A clever, subtle way that would let him discover the truth on his own.
I need to make him realize that I am the real Winifred.
What should I do? My brain begins to work at lightning speed.
