Cindy was gone. In her place stood Clara Valeria, a name destined for a shallow grave in this corny novel.
She stared into the polished silver of her vanity. Mentally, she was nineteen- a legal adult with a lifetime of common sense- but the reflection staring back was barely sixteen. The soft roundness of youth hadn't yet left her cheeks, but her eyes held a sharpness that didn't belong to a girl of that age.
If the original plot held true, her "heroine" of a sister would be fourteen or fifteen; the novel had only ever bothered to mention that Clara was the elder of the two.
The heavy oak doors of the study groaned as her father, the Duke, looked up from his correspondence. His voice was a low rumble, carrying the weight of a man used to being obeyed.
"Clara, I have decided to welcome a new member into the Valeria household,"
he began, his expression gentle. "During our expedition through the Northern Fissure, our unit was ambushed by a Mana-Beast-a creature that should have torn us apart. But this child... she appeared from the wreckage of a nearby village. With a single wave of her hand, she froze the beast in its tracks. Her affinity for ancient magic is unprecedented."
He paused, leaning forward. "She is an orphan of the war, but a talent like hers cannot be left to the streets. You will now be an older sister."
Clara stood before the heavy doors of the guest wing, her heart hammering against her ribs. In the original plot, this was the moment the "death flags" started planting themselves.
The old Clara would have seen the heroine's silence as a slight, met her trauma with cruelty, and spat insults about her Northern heritage.
Cindy took a slow, grounding breath. She wasn't that person. In her arms, she clutched a stack of fine, silk-lined garments-clothes she had personally wrestled away from the confused maids. If she wanted to survive this novel, "Kindness" was her only shield.
She pushed the door open.
The room was grand, filled with the scent of beeswax and old wood, but the girl sitting on the edge of the velvet settee looked utterly diminished by it.
The heroine was exactly as the descriptions promised, yet more vivid in person.
She had short, tousled brown hair and wide, emerald eyes that shimmered with a mix of exhaustion and guardedness. A dusting of freckles danced across the bridge of her nose, making her look even younger and more fragile than Clara had imagined. She looked like a bird waiting for a cage to snap shut.
Clara didn't wait for the girl to shrink away. She stepped forward, her expression softening into a practiced, gentle smile.
"You must be exhausted after such a long journey," Clara said, her voice steady and warm. She crossed the room and carefully set the bundle of clothes on the table nearby.
"I'm Clara. I know this place feels vast and perhaps a bit cold, but I've brought some things that might make you feel more at home."
The girl's emerald eyes went wide, her fingers tensing against the upholstery. She clearly expected a lecture or a sneer, not a gift.
"I... I am Leanne. But my friends call me Lea," she whispered, her Northern accent thick and hesitant.
Clara reached out, stopping just short of touching the girl's shoulder to respect her space. "I won't tell you to forget what you've seen- I don't think anyone could. But you're safe here now. Whatever you need, whether it's space or someone to handle the stuffy nobles for you... I'm your older sister. I've got your back."
Lea looked up, finally meeting my gaze. For a second, the world just... stopped. She gave me the tiniest, gentlest smile I had ever seen. A smile that showed how grateful she is.
I screamed internally. How is she this precious? Is it legal to be this cute?Maybe my initial plan was just cold-blooded survival, but looking at her, something else ached.
In my past life, "family" was just a word in the dictionary. I'd always wanted a little sister to dote on, and now, here was this literal angel sitting in front of me.
Suddenly, the silence felt heavy, and Cindy´s brain decided the best way to handle it was to start yapping.
"So, uhm! I'll leave you here to change," Cindy, now Clara blurted out, her hands gesturing vaguely at the dresses.
"And- is there anything you want to eat? Maybe some Northern delicacies? I mean, I don't actually know how to make them, obviously, I'd probably burn the kitchen down, but there are tons of cookbooks in the library and I could make the chefs study them or-"
"It is fine," Lea interrupted softly, her voice like a small bell. "You have given me more than enough, Miss Clara."
The "Miss" hit me like a bucket of cold water. It was too formal. Too distant.
If she kept calling me that, she'd never feel safe, and I'd never get those sisterly vibes I was suddenly desperate for!
I took a deep breath, dropping the nervous chatter for a moment of genuine honesty.
"No need to be formal with me," I said, my voice dropping to a gentle hum.
"We're family now, aren't we? Call me Sister."
The word felt foreign on her own tongue. Clara was so focused on the script and her own nerves that she hadn't looked closely at Lea until that exact second. Her breath hitched. Peeking out from under the oversized sleeves of her travel tunic were raw, angry-looking scrapes and bruises.
Wait. Are those... oh, absolutely not. Not on my watch.
"Wait right there!" Clara turned toward the door, her 'Graceful Lady' mask slipping into 'Frantic Mom' mode. "Lana! Bring the antiseptic ointment and the clean linens! Now!"
Clara didn't wait for the maid. She knelt on the floor at Lea's feet, reaching out with trembling fingers to gently inspect a scrape on her wrist.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her inner monologue finally going quiet as pure instinct took over. "I should have noticed these sooner. Just stay still, okay? I've got you."
***
The Valeria household- or more accurately, the Baron Valeria's modest estate- wasn't exactly the sprawling palace described in high-fantasy novels.
Space was tight, and the walls were thin. Because the guest rooms were undergoing repairs, Lea had been tucked into her chamber, our beds pushed side-by-side until they were practically one.
Clara lay on her side, watching Lea in the dim glow of the moonlight. She was staring at the ceiling, her body as stiff as a board. She was trying so hard to be the "perfect, grateful orphan," but the discomfort rolled off her in waves.
Her chest tightened. She knew that look. She'd worn it herself on those freezing nights in the orphanage, and again when she first woke up in this strange, gilded world. That gut-wrenching feeling of being a foreigner in the place you're supposed to call home.
Without a word, she shifted over, pulling the heavy duvet on the both of them and drawing her into a side-hug.
Lea stiffened, her breath catching, but Clara just rested her chin near her temple and began to hum. The melody was low and steady, a tether to the world she'd left behind.
"Nobody knows just why we're here... Could it be fate or random circumstance? At the right place, at the right time, two roads intertwine..."
She felt Lea's tension start to melt as she continued, her voice barely a whisper in the dark.
"Close your eyes, dry your tears, 'cause when nothing seems clear, you'll be safe here... From the sheer weight of your doubts and fears, weary heart... You'll be safe here."
Lea turned her head slightly, her emerald eyes shimmering in the dark. "T-this song is lovely," she breathed, her voice cracking. "Is it popular in the Empire?"
"No," Clara said, giving her a small, secret smile. "I wrote it a week ago."
Liar! Her brain shrieked. Total plagiarism! Somewhere in the 21st century, Rico Blanco is feeling a disturbance in the Force!
"You wrote it?" Lea's voice was full of awe. "It's a lovely song... Sister."
She said it. She called her "sister".
Her heart did a triple backflip, but she forced myself to stay calm. Stay cool, Cindy. Don't scare the child.
"Yes," Clara replied, staring up at the canopy with her. "I wrote it because... well, at one point I felt very lonely. I needed an outlet, so I put my feelings into the music."
"Really?" Lea whispered, sounding shocked. "Even you... feel that way?"
"I did," Clara replied, reaching over to squeeze her hand under the covers.
"But I'm not alone anymore. I have a sister now."
She meant it. In my previous life, she was the definition of "self-made." She survived the orphanage, juggled multiple part-time jobs, and studied until my eyes blurred just to survive highschool. She'd worked so hard on her part time job as a librarian just so she could finally relax and hide among the books. She was independent, sure, but she was always alone.
Looking at Lea, she saw the same lonely girl she used to be. But this time, the story was going to be different. She'd make sure she had a shoulder to lean on.
She was going to drown her in the kind of love she used to long for.
Operation: Best Big Sister is officially a go. Death flags? I'll burn them all to keep her warm!