Volume 7, Chapter 18 – An Accepted Identity

“How to face me and the people around you?”

What did she mean by that?

Her sleep-deprived, groggy brain didn’t register the question immediately. It was only after a moment of stunned silence that Fia vaguely realized what Anastasia meant: she was likely referring to the fact that she and the “true” Anastasia were not the same person, and as a result, she didn’t know where she fit in.

It was just like when Fia first arrived on the World Tree Continent. On one hand, she craved the family, friendship, and love she had never experienced before; on the other, she felt ashamed for being a fraud, stepping into someone else’s life. In the end, she had to clarify that she wasn’t the Eldest Princess before she could finally step out from under the shadow of her guilt.

Anastasia was likely facing a similar dilemma.

She recalled Claire’s words—about how while she was frantically scouring the archives for leads, Anastasia had been pacing downstairs, grieving over the trouble she felt she had caused. Both were Anastasia. The more concern Fia showed for the original Anastasia, the more profound the guilt this Anastasia would feel.

While searching for the one, she should at least take care of the other standing right in front of her.

Fia placed her book on the table, stood up, and walked over to Anastasia’s side, heading toward the library doors.

“There’s too much dust in here. Let’s talk outside.”

“You… you aren’t reading anymore?”

“I’ve looked through almost every book in the Royal Castle. Even the ones most likely to have leads turned up nothing; continuing would just be chasing a fading hope. Besides, we’ll be heading to the Milcandis Holy Kingdom soon. You should prepare yourself, Anastasia.”

Fia used [Telekinesis] to turn off the desk lamp. The archives were instantly plunged into darkness as the two stepped out into the hallway, which was lit by a warm amber glow. The polished stone floor reflected the blurred silhouettes of Fia and Anastasia. Together with the starry night sky and the cyan light flowing from the stone pillars, the scene carried a dreamy, summer-night atmosphere.

Resting her hands on the outward-curving balcony railing, Fia gazed out at Blossom City in the distance and asked.

“What exactly did you mean by ‘attitude’ just now?”

“It… well, it’s exactly as it sounds.” Anastasia paused, lowering her eyes. “Your world is so much better than mine. Not only is there no war, but the King treats his subjects very differently than before. Although it’s shameless of me, I often find myself thinking… how wonderful it would be if I could truly belong here…”

“But because you aren’t the ‘real’ Anastasia, you feel guilty about integrating into her life. You feel like you’re stealing something that doesn’t belong to you, so you hold back? We really are like sisters, aren’t we?”

In response to Fia’s teasing, Anastasia’s deep blue eyes widened with curiosity.

“Why do you say that, Your Highness?”

“Because when I first came to this world, I was just like you—lost as to whether I should accept the life of Dofilia Alexia Yushir.”

“But Her Highness is Her Highness. Why would you be lost?”

Anastasia’s tone was as if she were stating the most obvious thing in the world.

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Fia turned around to lean her back against the railing. She tilted her chin up to look at the shimmering stars, her voice full of nostalgia.

“I don’t remember the past. To be precise, I’ve only known this world for less than a year. I can’t recall a single thing from before I was hit by the Unsinkable Moon.”

Fia shrugged.

“Speaking of which, it aligns perfectly with your experience. Your timeline stopped when Dofilia was killed, didn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“Don’t make that face. She took the time to instruct Erin Slate to release you, which means she had already mentally prepared herself for the possibility of her death. You aren’t to blame.”

“But if I had been more vigilant back then, Her Highness wouldn’t have…”

“No, her death was almost certainly premeditated. If you had stopped her, she probably would have been angry with you.”

Seeing that Anastasia was still clutching her left shoulder with her right hand, her gaze downcast, Fia decided to try a different angle.

“Since you say that I am still Dofilia despite losing my memories, it means I am identical to the Dofilia in your memories. In that case, wouldn’t I be the person most qualified to forgive you? I’ve already said I don’t care, yet you’re still obsessing over it. You’re just looking for trouble.”

“It’s not the same…”

“Oh? So you don’t actually see me as the real Dofilia?”

“That’s not it at all!” Anastasia snapped her head up. Realizing she had lost her composure, she bashfully lowered her head again and muttered, “That’s… that’s not fair.”

“I’m just stating facts. Just as you feel I am the true Dofilia, in my eyes, there is only a fifteen-year difference between you and my Anastasia. If the ‘me’ in your world hadn’t failed to resurrect, the life you’d be living would be identical to the one here. Even the trajectory of your story would have been the same. There is no difference between the two of you, so I won’t treat you like an outsider.”

Just because you won’t doesn’t mean others won’t… Anastasia answered silently in her heart.

Fia continued talking to herself. She let out a long sigh and turned back toward the flickering lights of Blossom City.

“However, personality changes based on experience. Even if you are both Anastasia, a fifteen-year gap in experience will create differences. For example, you are exceptionally sensitive to the gazes of those around you, and your long life as a fugitive has made you forget to emphasize formal titles. Meanwhile, the Anastasia here always has the distinction of status on the tip of her tongue—she won’t listen no matter how I scold her. At the end of the day, one person cannot completely replace another. There will always be subtle differences that people notice. You cannot truly replace the Anastasia of this world and blend into her life.”

“Besides, from my perspective, the Anastasia of this world is still alive. If I were to hurriedly have you take over her duties, it would be a betrayal to the Anastasia who is still waiting for me. I can’t bring myself to do that. You aren’t the same person.”

Fia’s words made Anastasia bite her lip. Fia was right; she couldn’t blend into this Anastasia’s life—not just because of her own guilt, but because those around her didn’t truly see her as their Anastasia.

But Fia wasn’t finished.

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“So, just act according to your own habits. Treat yourself as a new Anastasia. Use a new identity to accept the way people treat you and face your challenges. That’s a valid path too. This world is much more peaceful than your original one; even if there are difficulties, they won’t be as grueling to overcome.”

“This is the experience I’ve summarized from the perspective of someone who’s been through it. Because I faced the same dilemma you did, looking at it now from the outside, the solution is obvious. Swapping bodies was an act of necessity. Since it’s already happened, you just have to accept it. Speak out about the things that make you feel guilty, and use your new identity to re-establish connections and bonds with others. It’s much easier than living under someone else’s skin. For you, that means being the ‘second Anastasia’ and doing what you want to do rather than trying to replace someone. I did the same, and as it turns out, I’ve done a pretty good job.”

By the end, a smirk played on Fia’s lips.

Surpassing the Eldest Princess in innate strength wasn’t enough to satisfy Fia. Now that she had mended the relationship with her father and corrected his distorted love back onto the right track, she felt she could hold her head high as an exceptionally excellent daughter.

She suddenly remembered the moment Anastasia had hugged her while trying to convince her of something in the past. She turned around, opened her arms toward Anastasia, and said with a smile.

“Want to try?”

“Uh…” Realizing this was an invitation for a hug, Anastasia—who had been inspired by Fia only a moment ago—immediately looked away. The moonlight hit her beautiful profile, reflecting a lovely shade of pink. “N-no, thank you…”

“It’s a rare opportunity. If you want one later, I’ll probably be too embarrassed to give it, you know?”

Anastasia wavered, but thinking of Claire’s presence, she eventually gave a firm refusal.

“Thank you for the kind offer, but I am merely a servant.”

“I think it’s a bit of a waste, personally.”

Anastasia remained red-faced. One hand was pressed against the deep neckline of her maid uniform while the other pulled down her skirt; her expression was stiff.

“Speaking of which, you were the same when you first came to this world. You slept in the same bed as me while only wearing a nightgown… and even I… even I was wearing that kind of indecent clothing…”

As if realizing something, Anastasia’s eyes suddenly went wide. A surge of even deeper embarrassment spread from her chest to her face, turning even the tips of her pointed elf ears crimson.

“You clearly have Lady Claire as your Royal Consort, yet you still made me wear those pajamas… could it be… could it be that in this world, you and I have that kind of… that kind of unspeakable relationship? Am I your… your lo-lo-lo-lover?!”

Anastasia’s face turned completely red. It looked as if steam were about to rise from her head. Her eyes were filled with nothing but chaos as she covered her face with her hands, utterly unable to look at Fia.

“But shouldn’t those kinds of things be for women much more outstanding than me? L-like Lady Erin Slate! She’s both a lady and gentle; she could even be a second Royal Consort. Even in the worst-case scenario, the eldest daughter of some other noble house would be fine. I mean, I don’t exactly mind , but… but how could someone like me be your l-l-lover? It would be shameful if anyone found out—wait, no, no one can ever find out! You already have such a charming woman as a fiancée, why would you take an interest in a drab woman like me… uuu…”

By the end of her rant, Anastasia was incoherent, letting out muffled whimpers. She wasn’t crying; she was simply overwhelmed.

So the usual Anastasia is prone to wild fantasies?

In that moment, Fia gained a new understanding of her.

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And did she just say “I don’t exactly mind”? Did she mean she wouldn’t mind being a lover?

Indeed, no matter which world she came from, Anastasia had no clear awareness of her own charm.

While it would be amusing to watch Anastasia continue to drown in her delusions—she was already rambling about how to explain things if Claire found out and where she should hide—it was starting to sound a bit pitiful. It was better to snap her back to reality.

Fia coughed loudly.

“Ahem. Anastasia, you’re thinking way too much. Isn’t it normal for sisters to sleep together? That day was just a whim of mine. I thought it was a shame that we were sisters yet had never shared a bed.”

“But why wear such revealing clothes just to sleep? It was basically…”

It was basically lingerie.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but Anastasia couldn’t say them. It had felt like a woman telling a man that her parents weren’t home tonight; going to the Princess’s room in that thin, gauzy nightgown had made the intentions seem self-evident. Following her own logic, Anastasia couldn’t find any other explanation besides wanting to stir Fia’s heart and make herself more alluring.

Yet Fia looked entirely innocent.

“At the time, I told Anastasia to wear something less conservative to my room. She ended up coming in a light green nightdress that gave me quite a shock. It was my first time seeing her like that. I didn’t expect her to be so serious on the surface while secretly owning clothes like that. I was impressed.”

“Uh, that had nothing to do with me.”

Anastasia quickly distanced herself from her other self.

The Anastasia of this world was far too reckless. No, she wasn’t just reckless; she was an erotic maid with a mind full of filthy thoughts.

…Though she herself wasn’t much better.

Remembering her own wild thoughts from moments ago, Anastasia’s expression stiffened. To ease the awkwardness, she asked tentatively.

“Um, Your Highness… just let me confirm one thing. I’m not actually your… lover in this world, right?”

“Of course not.”

Fia’s dismissal was immediate and natural. This caused Anastasia to feel a sense of relief, yet also a strange, lingering disappointment.

“You aren’t a lover. You’re a Royal Consort.”

“Huh?”

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As if struck by lightning, Anastasia’s mouth hung open as she froze in place. She heard Fia’s words clearly, but her brain couldn’t process such a massive amount of information.

The girl named Anastasia had harbored feelings for Dofilia for a long time. If she were asked to serve the Princess in bed, she would certainly be willing—in fact, she had dreamed of it. In comparison, even the unpleasant title of “mistress” wouldn’t have been much of a burden, let alone the enviable position of Royal Consort. However, in the current situation, the idea of using someone else’s body to share a spiritual connection with someone who was and wasn’t her Highness made her feel a very delicate mix of high expectations and deep guilt.

“Royal… Royal Consort? You-you-you… isn’t your only Consort Lady Claire? I-I am a Consort? Then wearing those pajamas… wouldn’t that mean we were carrying out the duties of husband and wife…”

Fia knew Anastasia would react this way.

If it were the “real” Anastasia, Fia wouldn’t have dared to make this joke even if it killed her—it might have turned into reality. But this was a different Anastasia, so teasing her was fun and served well to lighten the mood.

Anastasia’s eyes had turned into dizzying spirals as she made flustered noises. Her beautiful face was full of bewilderment, yet it was so visibly radiating happiness and joy that Fia began to feel a twinge of guilt. She cursed herself inwardly for being so thoughtless with her jokes.

She quickly called Anastasia back to reality.

“It’s a joke. A joke, Anastasia. One of the problems I’m currently facing is the issue of consorts… but that’s a story for another time. The priority is to bring back the real Anastasia and keep you in this world as long as possible. I forgot to ask—if you could stay here, would you want to go back?”

Though her face had initially slumped with disappointment when the joke was clarified, that look vanished by the time Fia reached the second half of her sentence. She bit her lip, her blue eyes filled with sincerity as she looked at Fia.

“If I can, I want to stay in this world. Not as the current Anastasia, but as myself. Could… could Your Highness find me a job in the Royal Castle? I don’t want to be a guest.”

It seemed Anastasia had taken her words to heart and wasn’t obsessing over her identity like Fia once had. In that regard, Anastasia was stronger than her.

Fia smiled.

“That’s good. A job is no problem, but not right now. We set off for the Milcandis Holy Kingdom tomorrow. Go back and get some proper rest.”

“To the Milcandis Holy Kingdom again…”

“Don’t worry. I’m not the same person I was before.”

Anastasia looked shocked, clearly questioning whether Fia was being reckless by wanting to charge into that “den of monsters” alone again. But Claire was still waiting in the room, and if Fia stayed too long, she might worry. Fia reached out and patted Anastasia’s shoulder.

“You’ll see tomorrow.”

Leaving behind a playful smile, Fia walked away down the corridor with a steady pace.