Chapter Text
Alice sat in front of her vanity mirror, staring at her reflection. The young girl who looked back had long, auburn hair and striking green eyes, identical to her twin brother, Cale. It had been two weeks since Kim Rok Soo had woken up in this fever-ridden body, and the disorientation still lingered.
"This is insane," Alice muttered, her voice soft and feminine. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "How am I supposed to live like this?"
The blending of Alice's and Kim Rok Soo's emotions had been gradual but inevitable. Memories, feelings, and thoughts intertwined until they were indistinguishable from one another. The result was a unique amalgamation—Alice Henituse with the mind and experience of Kim Rok Soo.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Alice, are you ready?" Cale's voice called out from the hallway.
"Coming!" Alice replied, trying to sound cheerful despite the turmoil inside her. She opened the door to find Cale leaning against the frame, his usual lazy demeanour evident.
"You're taking forever," Cale said, smirking. "After lunch, we have to go see the Count."
Alice nodded, following Cale down the grand corridors of the Henituse mansion. Each step reminded her of the unfamiliarity of her situation. How was she supposed to act like a noblewoman, let alone Cale's twin sister?
“Are you sure we can’t have lunch in the study?” her nose scrunched in distaste.
“No, it’s been a week you know the drill” Cale muttered, recalling the stipulation set by the Count of the entire family having to share at least one day of meals together.
The dining hall was steeped in a thick, uncomfortable silence. Violan and Basen sat across from Alice and Cale, both attempting to carry on with the evening as though the tension wasn’t palpable. The count was absent, seemingly an exception to his own rules, conveniently, Violan’s refined presence dominated the room as she calmly ate her meal, while Basen fidgeted slightly, sensing the unspoken hostility radiating from his older half-siblings.
Alice barely touched her food, her gaze fixating on her plate with an expression that was tight with restrained frustration. Cale, seated next to her, was outwardly more composed, though anyone who truly knew him—like Alice—could see the subtle way his eyes flickered between the people at the table, observing everything with quiet calculation.
Violan broke the silence first. “How are your studies progressing, Basen?” she asked, her tone effortlessly elegant.
Basen straightened up, grateful for the distraction. “They’re going well, Mother. I’ve been working on the estate’s accounts and—”
Alice’s fork scraped against her plate, cutting through Basen’s words like a knife. Violan’s gaze shifted to Alice, who refused to look up. The younger woman’s tension was palpable, and Cale, seated next to her, could feel the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Cale’s hand moved under the table, gently nudging Alice’s knee in a silent gesture of warning. It wasn’t a confrontation—just a quiet signal that he knew how close she was to snapping. Alice gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement, but the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease.
Violan, ever perceptive, continued as though nothing had happened, but her eyes briefly lingered on Alice. “If either of you would like to help Basen with the estate work, I’m sure he would appreciate it,” she said politely, her words directed at both Cale and Alice.
Cale kept his gaze on his plate, avoiding the invitation entirely. Alice, however, didn’t have the same restraint.
“I’m sure Basen’s doing just fine on his own,” Alice muttered, her tone sharp enough to cause a brief pause in the conversation. She still didn’t look up, but the bitter edge to her voice was unmistakable.
Basen’s face fell slightly, and Violan glanced at her son, her expression softening. “He values your input,” Violan said, her tone still calm but firmer now. “It’s important for all of us to contribute to the estate.”
At that, Alice’s gaze snapped up, her eyes blazing as she met Violan’s. “All of us? Really?” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “Funny how it doesn’t feel like all of us were ever considered.”
Cale shifted beside her, his jaw tightening slightly. He could see where this was heading, but now wasn’t the time to intervene—not here, not in front of them.
Violan’s eyes remained on Alice, her expression composed, though there was a flicker of something else beneath the surface. “Alice,” she began, her tone patient but warning. “I understand—”
“No, you don’t,” Alice cut her off, her voice rising. “You don’t understand anything about us.”
The air in the room became thick with tension. Basen looked between Alice and Violan, clearly uncomfortable, unsure of how to respond. Cale, sitting silently, clenched his fists under the table, resisting the urge to step in. He knew Alice needed to vent, but this wasn’t the place.
Without another word, Alice abruptly pushed her chair back and stood, her hands trembling with barely controlled anger. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she muttered, before turning on her heel and leaving the room.
Cale’s eyes followed her as she left, and after a moment of silence, he too stood. His movements were slower, and more measured, but the message was clear. He wasn’t going to sit through the rest of this dinner without Alice by his side. Without looking at Violan or Basen, he gave a curt nod and followed his sister out of the room.
Once they were far enough away from the dining hall, Cale quickened his pace to catch up with Alice. She was moving briskly, her anger radiating off her in waves. He didn’t say anything at first, knowing better than to speak when she was this upset. Instead, he fell into step beside her, waiting for her to break the silence.
Alice’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway before she finally stopped, turning sharply to face him. “How do you stand it, Cale?” she hissed, her voice shaking with barely contained emotion. “How do you sit there, day after day, and pretend like everything’s fine?”
Cale didn’t respond right away. He leaned against the stone wall, crossing his arms, his expression carefully controlled. “I don’t pretend, Alice,” he said quietly, his tone calm but firm. “I survive.”
Alice scoffed, her hands balling into fists. “Survive? Is that what you call it? Sitting there while she talks about ‘all of us’ as if we’re some happy family?” Her voice cracked slightly, and she bit her lip, struggling to keep her emotions in check.
“She doesn’t know any better,” Cale said, his voice still soft, though there was an edge of bitterness to it. “She wasn’t there. None of them were.”
Alice’s eyes flashed with anger. “That’s exactly the problem, Cale! They weren’t there. They didn’t see what we went through—what he did to us.” Her voice dropped lower, trembling with the weight of years of hurt. “And now they get to live in this perfect little family, while we’re… what? The leftovers? The mistake he’s trying to forget?”
Cale’s chest tightened at her words, but he kept his expression neutral. He had always known how Alice felt, how deeply the Count’s abandonment had cut her. But hearing it laid bare like this—seeing the raw pain in her eyes—made it even harder to keep his own emotions in check.
“They don’t matter, Alice,” Cale said quietly, his voice steady. “Not Violan, not Basen or Lily. They’re just part of his new life. But that doesn’t mean we have to be part of it.”
Alice stared at him, her anger slowly giving way to something more vulnerable. “But you don’t even hate them,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “How can you not hate them?”
Cale sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t hate them,” he admitted, “because they didn’t do anything to us. It was him. It was always him. Hating them doesn’t change that.”
Alice looked down, her shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of her. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said softly. “I can’t just… let it go. Every time I look at them, it feels like I’m losing more of him. Of what we used to have.”
Cale stepped closer, his voice gentle but firm. “We already lost him, Alice. A long time ago.”
For a moment, Alice didn’t respond. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “I hate him,” she whispered. “For what he did to us. For what he’s still doing.”
Cale’s heart ached at her words, but he didn’t say anything. He simply pulled her into a quiet, steady embrace. He didn’t tell her it was going to be okay, or that things would get better. He knew they wouldn’t. But he would be there for her, no matter what.
After a few moments, Alice finally pulled away, her expression hardening once more. “I don’t want to go back in there,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes.
“You don’t have to,” Cale said softly.
The twins stood in the dim hallway, silent but together. For them, it had always been like this—just the two of them against the world. And as long as they had each other, that was all they needed.
The grand halls of the Count's estate echoed faintly with the sound of their footsteps. Her hands were balled into fists, nails biting into her palms. She hated being in this part of the mansion. The walls where the portraits of their mother once stood are now adorned with random art work, no doubt carefully selected by the Countess and the rest are dotted with the portrait of the count and countess, one with Lily, Basen and another with all of them, hanging in the shadowed hallways, always felt like they were watching her, it was a bitter reminder of how her father opted to erase all memories of their mother.
Alice paused outside the Count's study, staring at the closed doors. Her chest tightened with the familiar sting of betrayal. Why did she even bother?
Cale stepped closer, speaking softly, “You don’t have to do this.”
Her eyes flickered to him, filled with a mix of pain and defiance. “Don’t I?”
He sighed, pushing a hand through his messy hair.
A bitter laugh escaped her.
Before Cale could respond, the door to the study opened, and Count Deruth stood framed in the doorway.
His eyes, so similar to Alice’s, widened slightly when he saw her. Surprise, as always. He never expected her. Never looked for her.
An awkward silence settled between them, the kind that had long become the norm. The Count opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated, his eyes flickering briefly to Cale, then back to Alice. He looked tired—older somehow. Alice felt no sympathy.
"Alice, Cale, come in," he greeted them, his voice hinting of hesitation. "I have something important to discuss with you both."
Alice tried to focus on the conversation, but her mind kept drifting to the challenges she now faced. Being Kim Rok Soo in Alice's body was a struggle in itself, but she also had to deal with the expectations of being a noblewoman. She was used to fighting and surviving in a harsh world, not attending tea parties and navigating court politics.
Count Deruth gestured for them to sit, as he settled down behind the desk his eyes lingering on Alice for a moment longer than usual.
Alice noticed the flicker in his gaze before he quickly looked away, focusing on some papers in front of him.
"Thank you both for coming," he began, his voice carefully controlled. "As you know, the annual estate evaluations are coming up, and I will need your support during this period."
Cale leaned back in his chair, looking disinterested. "And what exactly do you need us to do?" he asked, his tone casual but with an edge that Alice knew was part of his act.
The Count's lips pressed into a thin line. "Cale, I need you to oversee the preparations for the harvest festival. It's crucial for maintaining good relations with the local nobility and the common folk."
Cale nodded, his expression unreadable. "Fine. What about Alice?"
Count Deruth turned to Alice, his discomfort palpable. "Alice, I would like you to handle the guest arrangements for the visiting nobles. Your attention to detail and organizational skills will be invaluable."
Alice's jaw tightened. She knew this was a significant responsibility, but it felt like a way to keep her busy and out of the more critical affairs. "Of course, Count" she replied, her voice steady but cold.
The Count froze, then took a breath and steadied himself adding, "Also, there's a matter of our family's public image. I expect both of you to represent the Henituse name with dignity and respect."
Cale scoffed. "You mean you want us to pretend everything's perfect?"
Count Deruth's gaze hardened. "I want you to remember that our actions reflect on the entire family. We've had enough scandals. It's time we restored some semblance of order and respect."
Alice clenched her fists in her lap, her nails digging into her palms. She could feel Kim Rok Soo's indifference fighting with Alice's lingering emotions. The Count's words felt like a slap, a reminder of how far they had drifted apart.