Important Author's Note: I ended up swapping Bridgette and Amelia's names. Why? Because I couldn't seem to stop swapping them in my head no matter what I did, and in the end I just gave in... Bridgette is just too much of a knight's name in my mind, I guess?Anyway, I won't make you read through the first two chapters again, but I am including the adjusted files for the prologue and chapter 1 in attachments.
~~~
The carriage trundled down the road, its passage surprisingly smooth. That was great so far as my butt was concerned, but it came with an unexpected downside - it left me with nothing to distract me from how awkward the traveling arrangements were.
Me and Bridgette were the sole riders for this carriage trip, with all the responsible academy students having gone to bed - as had the carriage driver, in fact, before I forced him up and about with promises of an extra large tip. Which essentially meant I was practically alone, in the body of a character I’d created, with another character I’d created. One who was currently happily humming beside me as if the awkwardness of our circumstances couldn’t even touch her.
Then again, she wasn’t aware that she’d started life as a figment of my imagination…. Or not if the demon was to be believed. Which they obviously weren’t - but was my imagination really strong enough to bring a being like that into existence?
Did it matter, in the end? One way or another, Bridgette was here before me, exactly as I’d written her. From the armor design I’d thought up, to the complete lack of social awareness. At a glance, she was exactly as I’d imagined her… and yet I couldn’t help but notice the little things as I stared at her. There were etchings on her greaves and bracers, I realized. A lion’s head. I’d never written about that. I’d never even thought about the designs of a side character’s armor, and yet… there the etchings stood. Was this the result of reality filling in the cracks I left? Or was this truly a world of its own that I’d just happened into writing about?
I… wasn’t sure I liked the thought of that. Wouldn’t it make me a hack of a writer, if I was just writing about something that already existed? Even if I didn’t know it? That left a sour taste on my tongue, but… I couldn’t deny the possibility.
So, again, I had to ask myself - did it matter? It was reality, whether I’d written it into existence or not. Yet at the same time, I had to wonder… because if this truly was the world I’d written… if Bridgette was the ditzy blonde I’d imagined… then didn’t that make it my fault that I was currently being driven insane by her inane, never ending humming?
“Oooh, we’re here!” Bridgette declared, popping up and out of her seat and heading for the door the moment the carriage stopped. As if she was the one who couldn’t wait to escape her present company! “Where to next?”
“Ah…” Shit. Why had I wasted all my time marveling at the annoyance that was Bridgette instead of figuring out how to actually escape…?
Well, whatever. No need to panic. I was a writer. More specifically, I was Bridgette’s writer. If anyone knew how to distract her, then it would surely be her creator, right?
“R-right! Why don’t you show me somewhere good to eat, Miss Bridgette?”
“Somewhere good to eat?” Bridgette asked, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t tell me you came out here to eat something? At this time of night?”
“This is the closest town to the academy, is it not? Surely it sees night time traffic. There must be something still open.”
“Well… I guess we could go to a tavern?” Bridgette suggested. “I don’t know that the food’s going to meet your standards, though.”
“Anything will do,” I promised, forcing myself to smile at her.
“...Can you not smile like that? It’s creepy…”
“You…” I scowled, shaking my head. “Just lead me there, alright?”
“Well… if you insist…” Bridgette replied, shrugging. “But don’t complain to me when it stinks, Lady Amelia.”
“Exactly how petty do you think I am, to hold you accountable for a tavern’s food after all these warnings?”
“I mean… petty enough to try and assassinate a girl for getting your fiancee’s attention, so… Pretty petty? Though I’m not really sure petty is the right word for it…”
“Ah… You… know about that?” I asked, grimacing. I’d been hoping that the prince had kept that hidden from her. Not that he had a good reason to, but… well, that had never stopped me from writing about crappy communication issues before.
“I’m pretty sure everyone knows about that, Lady Amelia,” Bridgette replied. “I’m pretty sure even the commoners will know about you being disavowed and sentenced to execution, soon enough.”
“You…” I stared at her, face white as a sheet. “If you know all that, then… then why are you letting me wander about?” And why hadn’t my powers detected a lie when I questioned her about escaping?
“Well, my orders were just to keep you out of trouble, right?” Bridgette said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Nobody said anything about stopping your last night of freedom… And your sentence hasn’t even been delivered yet, right? You’re technically still free! Nothing to escape from. Plus, I’m sorta curious what you’re plotting… Though Prince Henry and Miss Pauline will just break it all down as usual, you know?”
“You… You…” I grimaced, gritting my teeth. “Just lead me to the tavern, alright? I can handle my own affairs from there.”
“So long as your affairs involve me watching over you!” Bridgette agreed. Like I said, it’s my job to keep you out of trouble.”
I merely grunted in agreement.
***
The tavern wasn’t half as seedy as I was expecting, given all of Bridgette’s warnings. It was a bit… rustic, perhaps? Its wooden floor was worn, and dirty, stained in places and sporting a puddle of what looked to be beer in one corner that I hoped someone was planning on getting to. It was illuminated by lamps, hanging on the walls and from the ceiling, and I took advantage of the light offered to try and circumvent the worst of the filth on the ground as I made my way to the bar.
The bartender eyed the two of us - Bridgette for a moment, me for longer, taking in the rather flashy red dress I was wearing. It made me a little uncomfortable, not least of all because I’d been trying very hard not to consider the fact that I was wearing a dress at all. Thankfully, the examination was relatively short lived, though, as after a moment the bartender simply shrugged and grunted, as if saying it wasn’t his problem.
“Hello!” Bridgette said, waving her hand happily at the man. “My name’s Bridgette, and this is Lady Amelia.”
“Do you have to point out the ‘lady’ part?” I muttered, feeling a little self-conscious.
“Well, it is kinda obvious,” Bridette pointed out. “But whatever. We’re here for food!”
“And alcohol,” I added, quickly. “Your finest wine, and as much food as this will pay for.” Saying so, I reached into my purse and felt around for the largest, heaviest coin. A gold, which I placed upon the bar.
“...A rack?” the man asked, before shaking his head. “Finest wine costs a stag. The stew’s three stars a bowl.”
I simply smiled, trying not to show my confusion. Rack? Stag? Stars? What the hell? I’d only ever called them gold, silver, and copper in the book…
“I’m saying that’s a lot of food, Lady,” the bartender said, frowning. “You sure you can eat that much?”
“My companion has a voracious appetite,” I replied, pointing to Bridgette, who in turn pointed to herself and blinked. “I’m sure she won’t mind helping me finish - especially since I’m paying.”
“You mean I get to eat on your treat?” Bridgette asked, eyeing the coin on the bar. “You might wanna put a second coin down, then, because I’m not sure this will be enough.”
“Finish the first batch, and we’ll see,” I told her, trying not to roll my eyes. I needed her happy and content and not at all suspicious for this part. “For now, get us a table while I wait for the wine?”
Bridgette shrugged, heading off as the bartender turned around to look at the shelves behind him. He was reaching up to grab something off the top shelf when I let out a little cough to get his attention. When he turned around to face me, I placed a second gold coin on the bar’s front.
“Forget what I said about the wine. Get me something strong - strong enough to knock the local blacksmith off their feet. And deliver it in a wine bottle.”
The bartender stared at me for a moment before shrugging, and bending down to grab something from beneath the bar instead. I heard the sound of liquid sloshing about, and about a minute later the man stood with a wine bottle in his hands.
“Had an empty on hand,” he explained, placing it on the table, and frowning. “Not that I’m one to say anything, but this seems like a pretty mean spirited prank to play on your friend.”
“Let me worry about that, alright?” I said, taking the bottle and heading towards Bridgette.
“Hey Lady Amelia!” she said, waving at me. “You done plotting against me?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, forcing myself to smile even as I placed the bottle on the table. “I was simply getting us a drink.”
“The strongest drink you could, right?” Bridgette asked. “You forgot about my wind powers again, didn’t you?”
“Of course not,” I replied, rolling my eyes. I’d just been hoping they wouldn’t activate. “I fully expected you to hear my vile plot to get you drunk. What of it? Are you going to refuse my hospitality?”
“I’m not sure the rules of hospitality really apply to this situation,” Bridgette remarked, before shrugging. “But whatever. I’m not afraid of a little alcohol. Bring it on.”
“I just hope you’ll still remember saying that come morning,” I replied, pushing the bottle towards her.
In truth, I’d never actually written about Bridgette drinking. I had no idea what her tolerance was, or anything about her drinking habits. I had once written about this very tavern, though, in a chapter where the heroine had come to the local town in hopes of mingling with other commoners and escaping the arrogant nobles of the academy. It hadn’t gone according to plan at all, of course - but that was besides the point. The important bit was that I’d specifically written something about this tavern having some of the strongest alcohol in the kingdom, as part of the plot. Someone tried to slip just a drop of the stuff into Pauline’s drink, thinking that would be enough to knock her out, but she got saved by the prince before she could take a sip.
Bridgette, on the other hand? Was about to be drinking that alcohol right from the bottle.
“How about a toast?” I suggested, as she sniffed the open bottle. “To a long life?”
“That’s certainly a choice under the circumstances,” Bridgette remarked. “And I can’t help but notice you don’t have a glass…”
“Yes, well, it’s hard to toast to something I won’t have… but surely you could at least take a drink, right?”
Bridgette eyed me for a moment, before snorting. “You couldn’t be more transparent if you tried, Lady Amelia… But alright.” She raised the wine bottle, then tipped it back, drinking - no, chugging - straight from the bottle, drinking what must have been half the contents in one go.
Then she slammed the bottle down and smiled at me. “Surprisingly smooth,” she declared… before falling out of her chair.
“...Idiot,” I muttered, shaking my head, and heading towards the door.
“H-heyyyyy…” she called out, voice slurring. “Where are you going?”
“To the little lady’s room,” I replied, not even bothering to turn around. “Don’t worry about it. Just eat your stew. I’ll be back.”
“I’m supposed ta keep you out of trouble, though…”
“I think I can manage a trip to the lady’s room by myself,” I replied, rolling my eyes again, despite knowing full well that she wouldn’t be able to see it. “But tell you what? If I get into trouble, I’ll call your name. Maybe your wind powers will pick it up and let you hear it.”
“...A’right…” she agreed. “I’mma lay down for now… Just… call my name if you need help, and I’ll come running…”
“I’m sure you will.” I laughed, heading out the door.
Maybe escaping my fate wouldn’t be so difficult after all?
~~~ETA: I added a few sentences to address the whole "why didn't I catch you in a lie?" thing - since Bridgette originally said she didn't know anything about Amelia potentially escaping, which sorta conflicts with her knowing Amelia's fate. (Answer: it apparently wasn't a lie by her logic.)