Priscilla stumbled back, every shade of pink draining from her face. The Clairette standing before her - one who could never raise her voice against her - now watched her like a predatory hawk.
"What coat? What are you talking about? And s-stop right there! Why are you approaching me like that?"
She didn't stop and continued approaching her, her eyes slowly losing their bright emerald sheen. Priscilla's back hit a tree, and she swallowed hard.
"I was ill that day. It was you who had come to my chamber. You were rummaging through my clothes."
Priscilla stood frozen as if a bucket full of ice-cold water was thrown at her face like a violent slap.
"We were having tea right here in the pavilion and I started feeling feverish," she loomed in closer, forcing her back further against the tree. "You helped me to my room and assumed I had fallen asleep."
"W-What nonsense you're spouting, Clairette! What exactly are you implying!"
"Did you mix something into my tea to make me ill?" She asked point blank. "So that you could enter my room and take my coat?"
Her gaze darkened. "How dare you accuse me of such notoriety? Why'd I even do something like that!"
Yet with the rebellion in her voice, her confidence faltered as if she was on a boat, rocking through treacherous waters of the sea. The cool, snowy air failed to dry the sweat at her temples.
"You were the one who Audreya saw in Stras. She saw you bribing an assassin."
"That's a lie! I already said so at the tea party! Clairette, don't forget I'm the Blessed," she gritted her teeth. "Are you accusing me of being involved in that lowly dancer's death? You cannot just run your mouth against me like that. You'll have a heavy price to pay, and I'll tell brother-in-law Elvin about this!"
She ignored her outburst and asked, "Did you steal my coat to frame me for her murder?"
Her lips parted, stunned. "You…"
"When I held my coat the next day, it felt different. It smelled different. It had been recently washed. But I never asked Erissa to wash it. Have you had it cleaned since after you wore it?"
Priscilla's knees could barely support her own weight. "W-what would I know about what you told your maid and what you didn't! This is it! I won't let this slide. You're tarnishing my name. You'll be punished for rebelling against the Blessed!"
A cold glint passed through her eyes. "Blessed? You flaunt your status as the Blessed every single time, yet do you even know the Harbinger of Seasons' Dance?"
She froze.
"You suddenly fell ill at the Festival of the First Light last year. It's customary for the Blessed of both realms to dance for the Great Requiem. But the custom couldn't be performed with you having fallen sick. And the years before…you never danced at the Festival either."
H-How…does she know that? How would she know that..! That's impossible!
Outraged, her fists balled. "What do you mean it was because of me! That hateful Blessed demon from their side hadn't danced either! He had gotten injured in the forest. So what? Will you accuse him of being unable to perform the Blessed dance too? Just you wait, Clairette! I'll have you punished for this humiliation! First, you accuse me for a lowly woman's murder who I don't even know and then challenge my divinity? You'll pay for this!"
Priscilla shoved her aside with a brazen push and fled at the first chance she got. Her hasty steps of retreat faded and eventually, silence returned to the courtyard.
Vivia stumbled and leaned against the tree. Her temples throbbing with a shooting pain left her breathless and uneasy.
What just happened…?
Priscilla…Priscilla was the one behind my murder? The woman Audreya mistook as Clairette was her?
Vivia pinched her temple, gasping for air. The blurry memories of that day became clearer. A sick and dizzy Clairette had seen Priscilla take her brown coat and leave in haste. Clairette had been so sick that her throat could barely make any voice.
"But why am I remembering this now? Who was talking to Priscilla just now? It wasn't me…"
She caught the sight of her ring, the faint emerald shimmer of the Moonflame Opal dimming to its natural hue.
Why do I feel this has happened before?
The memory of her first day back in Orseth after returning from Rudaheim surfaced in her mind.
'I know I must've shocked you with my sudden arrival in this manner and I truly feel ashamed.
The past few days were stressful and tumultuous as I was far away from Emberlain. So returning here and seeing everyone again…simply overwhelmed me. I apologize for my rudeness.
I humbly ask to kindly ignore my confused ramblings as my health is still recovering.'
Vivia stared at her ring again.
It wasn't me who had said those things. It didn't feel like I was talking to the crowd…
She recalled the demon jeweler warning - that it could possibly house a vengeful spirit. Then Sir Klaus's words followed.
'The veins in this opal are green in hue, which is the color I mentioned from the texts. It's green probably because it's imbued with Princess's natural aura. It matches your emerald green eyes.'
Vivia was blank for several long moments.
Wait. Is it green because I'm physically Clairette or because…spiritually…
Vivia stopped, shivering to complete the train of thought.
If the opal housed a spiritual embodiment of energies, she guessed the veins should have had a lavender hue to them - since Vivia's soul resided in Clairette's body. But the demon jeweler had said a spirit could reside in the gemstone - and technically, Vivia wasn't dead to be a spirit.
She breathed in and breathed out several times, yet her heartbeats continued to thunder ominously. She lowered her gaze to the ring.
"Are you by any chance…You know I-I could be wrong, but…" she swallowed a gulp, "Are you Clairette?"
The opal stayed milky white for a long time - before the veins pulsed emerald.
A gasp escaped her lips, and she staggered back. Her hand reached to her chest, feeling her own hammering heartbeats.
I cannot believe this…
I've been walking around in Clairette's body carrying Clairette's spirit with me this entire time!?