A beautiful red-haired woman materialized out of the swirl of butterflies and magic and put a hand to her cheek.
"Oh my. And who is this? Have you been hiding a princess in here?"
She turned her wrist, and golden light gathered and folded itself into a flower — a rose with petals of live flame — and she held it out to the astonished child.
Then she bowed slightly, smiling. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady."
The elegant woman stood in front of the ornate chair where Rosette sat holding the burning flower out in both hands, and smiled warmly down at her.
"A pleasure," she said again.
Rosette knew her.
The woman was Seline, the Fire Witch — a mage powerful enough that during the war she had tried to take an assassin as her disciple.
She could still hear it. Seline leaning down toward a hooded girl in a back alley, wheedling. Come with me. I'd treat you far better than that stuffy Marquis ever has.
And the younger Rosette, cold as a blade: You're weaker than I am. Why would I learn anything from you?
She cringed at the memory of her own arrogance. Seline had only laughed and walked away, and said over her shoulder that the girl should stay away from her, precisely because she had grown to like her.
If you keep coming near me, Rosette had warned her, the Marquis will kill you.
He had. Not long after, Seline had died in a mysterious accident.
Sitting in her bright room in the Adrien mansion, Rosette put it together the way she had never let herself put it together before. Seline had been a key mage allied with the Duke. The Marquis had removed a threat, that was all — and Rosette had watched a woman in full command of her fire go out like a snuffed lamp.
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached for the rose.
The moment her fingers touched it, the flower burst — into light, into a hundred butterflies, spilling up and out around her head.
Her mouth fell open. She was utterly captivated.
"A real flame," Seline said proudly. "Not an illusion, mind you, a real one — oh dear. Are you all right? You've gone quite still."
"I'm sorry, I was showing off—"
"It's the most beautiful magic I've ever seen," Rosette said.
Stop it, she told herself immediately, mortified. You're acting like an excited child. She sat back down and folded her hands and watched with wide eyes.
"Your Grace." Seline turned to the Duke, delighted. "Is this the rumored hidden young lady of the Adrien house? Have you been keeping her locked away all this—"
"That's enough," the Duke said.
Maybe it's because I've never watched anything peaceful before, Rosette thought, still staring at the last of the butterflies. Maybe that's why I can't stop looking.
"Forgive me," Seline said, sheepish. "Showing off in front of the famous little lady, of all people." Flowers bloomed in the air behind her as she swept into a graceful bow. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Seline."
Rosette hopped down off the grand chair to stand in front of her.
"Thank you, big sister."
The red-haired woman went absolutely still.
Then she spun toward the Duke, both hands over her mouth. "Your Grace! She called me sister! Did you hear that? She called me—"
Oh no. Rosette's stomach dropped. She had used it without thinking — the same word she used to use in her old life, for the one person who had been kind to her.
"Well, then, I'm your sister now," Seline announced cheerfully, "and I shall teach you magic."
"Look at her injury first," the Duke said.
"Injury?" Seline's face changed at once. "What injury? Who would harm a lovely child like—"
I scratched myself, Rosette thought. From the itching. That's all it was.
Seline took the bandaged hand in both of hers and turned it carefully. "You must be more careful. A scratch like this can leave a scar."
Golden light welled up and wrapped Rosette's arm to the shoulder. This isn't serious enough to need magic, Rosette thought.
Seline lifted the healed arm and turned it back and forth. "There. Isn't healing magic fascinating?"
"I suppose I should have known about it sooner," the Duke murmured.
That would make sense, Rosette thought, nodding along.
Seline looked at her, and her eyebrows climbed. "That's a very calm reaction for a child seeing that for the first time. You have seen healing magic before, haven't you?"
Rosette startled. "Ah — could we talk about something else?"
"Why," the Duke asked calmly, "do you want to avoid it?"
She remembered him kneeling in front of her once before, in a place she was not ready to think about, and she thought that this was quite possibly the most embarrassing situation she had ever been in.
"Your Grace," Seline said slowly. "Is it true, then? That she used healing magic herself?"
"It's true."
Seline sat down hard on the edge of the chair. "That isn't possible. Magic is a science, not an instinct. You do not simply feel your way into a healing formula at her age—"
I can't exactly tell you I learned the formulas in my last life, Rosette thought, panicking. "Your Grace, I—"
"She may be a genius," Seline said, deadly serious.
"I was thinking the same thing," the Duke admitted, just as grim.
"Then I shall guide her well," Seline declared, brightening. "Very well indeed."
Is it really all right to let them believe this? Rosette wondered.
Seline swept her up into a crushing hug. "Adorable. Absolutely adorable."
"When do my lessons begin?" Rosette asked nervously into her shoulder.
"Lessons? Oh, sweetheart, it's far too early for that."
Rosette went stiff with alarm. If she didn't start soon, people would begin to doubt she had any ability at all.
"Your body is still much too small to form a mana core," Seline explained. "Forcing it would do you real harm."
"Then what should I do?"
"Nothing at all," the Duke said.
Rosette looked up at him with a completely blank expression.
Wrapped in Seline's arms, with the flowers still drifting around them, she promised she would do her best anyway.
"Eat plenty," Seline told her, "except shrimp. A child's only job is to rest and grow strong. And you worked very hard today — I heard all about it."
The Duke reached over and patted Rosette's head, quietly.
"Farewell, little lady!" Seline called, waving as she went.
When she and the Duke had gone, Rosette collapsed backward onto her bed and lay there.
Nothing that had happened today was anything she had expected.
She remembered being held — his arms around her, solid and warm. She remembered crying until she couldn't stop, in front of a man she had murdered.
I've become so emotional, she thought, staring at the canopy. Is it the body? This must be a regression, then. Not a reincarnation — I've come back into myself, and everything in this small body works the way it did when I was small.
Then a thought struck her, and she sat up. "Ah."
A dark-haired figure in shadow, somewhere in a memory she had never fully examined, asking the empty air why any of it had to happen. What did my teacher ever do wrong? What did Daniel ever do wrong?
Rosette lay back down. Her last thought before sleep took her was a single lingering question.
Why?
Elsewhere in the house, the Duke stopped his butler in the corridor. "Cancel every appointment I have tomorrow. And have the carriage prepared."
In the warm morning light he stood at the window a long while, lost in thought.