4th Time Lucky

I Am Me, Your Majesty

The room was hot, stuffed as it was with layers of silk and chiffon. Mothers and daughters and a few suitors were crammed into the Empress' receipting room. Ladies lined the edges of a large red carpet that ran from the middle of the room to a huge wing-backed chair, which sat opposite to the large entry doors. A couple of tall glass doors sat open to the terrace, where the remained of guests spilled onto the lawn.

Outside, a square pool lined with a walking path stretched to the other side of the Empress' garden. Guests outside gathered to marvel at the plants and flowers, nibbling on a buffet of delicate finger food and ridiculously small sandwiches.

Katherine Sachar fanned herself, eager to finish the introductions to the Empress and get outside. From her past memories, at least three ladies would collapse due to the heat and their corsets. A fight would break out between the Earl of Leister and his second son. A waiter would get knocked into the pool.

This was her fourth life, and the plan was to get in and out. She already had two meetings with potential suitors this week and didn't need to spend her time mingling.

And there was Duke Edgar Albrecht. She was starting to think she had hallucinated their conversation. There was no way the Duke of Septentrion, who was practically Emily Fairfeather's fiancé, would want to court her. Unless perhaps he was courting multiple women. Or he had lost a bet.

In her third life, she mingled and found Devlin Vanheer at this party. She wouldn't let that happen again.

In her second life, Rigel was already knee deep in love bombing her. She shook her head, disappointed at her naive self. She thought that was winning. She thought that was love.

In her first life, she was happily sipping sweet tea on her porch.

Damn grandma and her untimely demise.

Katherine's attention was snapped back to present day when he name was called.

"Presenting, Miss Katherine Sachar, granddaughter of Baroness Eloise Tremaine," the herald called. Katherine stepped forward, eyes downcast, attempting to float across the open carpet. She swept the edges of her trailing dress around as she curtsied well enough to pass muster.

"Your majesty," Katherine said respectfully.

There was a sigh from the chair in front of her. Did the Empress sigh last time? She looked up and met the Empress' gaze, a first for both of them. L

Katherine saw past the pageantry, the red and gold gown, the ruby and gold jewels, and saw a woman not much older than herself. Empress Amalia was married nearly 10 years ago, on the stroke of her 18th birthday. Since then, she had played the part to a T.

Up until she her is head chopped off in the civil war, about five years from now, she would be the perfect Empress.

So why was she sighing?

"Your majesty?" Katherine asked quietly, raising an eyebrow. The violet eyes of the empire seemed to strike right through Katherine, daring her to question her authority. Katherine took the dare. "Is something amiss?"

The room became quieter. This was supposed to be a formality, not a social call. The empress sat forward, moving her hands to curl around the ends of the arm rests. Her Royal gown rustled in the silence as the room held its collective breath.

"Nothing would be amiss at a wonderful event such as this. Another debut. Another group of young girls becoming women. Another year of romance and intrigue. It's my ninth season, and beginning such things will always be a highlight of my year."

Empress Amalia hadn't broken eye contact since leaning forward. Uncomfortable, Katherine was the first to blink. She steadied her voice and hoped the Empress could read between the lines. "Of course, your majesty. Doing the exact same routine every year must be a wonderful... gift."

The Empress relaxed back into her chair, releasing the pressure placed over the room. Her tone was sad, as though they had an entirely different conversation pass in the gaps between words. "It is," she said, "a gift."

She raised her hand to signal the herald. It was a dismissal, though Katherine could swear she was being watched from the corner of the Empress' eyes.

"Miss Melody Scarn, daughter of Lord Brannoch Scarn," the herald announced.

Katherine stepped to the side and tried to become one with the crowd, but the Empress's voice stopped her. "Enjoy the party, Miss Sachar. I'm particularly pleased about the chocolate fountain."

Katherine nodded, not sure what the protocol was for discussing desserts while another young debutante floated up the aisle toward the monarch.

After the formal introductions the party gathered on the lawn outside of the receiving room. Katherine felt like everyone was watching her. There were sideways glances and whispering behind gloved hands. The Empress didn't have a conversation beyond "congratulations" or "lovely to meet you" with everyone else.

Katherine had never felt like she stood out before, but now she felt trapped under a spotlight.

And the moths were flocking toward it.

"Miss Sachar!" a voice called out.

Katherine was pinned. She knew that voice.

He came toddling across the lawn, face bright with a too-large smile. Rigel Brookheim was neither too fat nor too thin, but he was definitely too much. He was unassuming - middle height, middle intellect, middle manners. And he was coming right this way.

Rigel had a plate of food balance in one hand, and the other was already reaching for her. If her skin could pull back it would have. His hand was on her arm and it took all of Katherine's willpower not to throw him away.

She tried to remind herself this version of Rigel was not her version of Rigel. He only had the potential to be.

"Oh Katherine - Miss Sachar - I couldn't believe my ears when I heard the Empress talking to you! She never converses during formalities like that. Well, I think so, at least to the ones I've been at, which isn't really very many -" he paused to take a breath and power through. "When I saw you that first night at Lady Dufresne's ball and you had the eye of Duke Albrecht I knew you were someone special."

Katherine tried to pull her arm back but he held tighter. Others started to drift closer, to see what she might do. As Rigel continued complimenting her, she smiled as big as she could muster and covered his hand with her free one. Slowly, nodding along to his overture, she tried to peel back his fingers far enough to escape.

"...I was wondering, my lady, if I might call on you this week?" he finished.

With a determined slip of her wrist she was free! Katherine gathered her arms in tight to her front, a defense mechanism that this body was learning once more. "I have many suitors already, but thank you for your interest..."

Is this how one turned down suitors?

"But Miss Katherine," Rigel said, his tone begging for her attention.

She did the only thing she could think of. Katherine picked up her skirts and ran.