Of course, most of what the previous inhabitant of this body remembered was blurred, but from the memories, I at least knew where we had been. I was surprised that Celeste didn't seem to remember, and also that my mother somehow knew about it. I paused, allowing tension to build, then continued.
"They were going to take you. I could see it in their eyes—they thought you'd be easier to control. So I provoked them, made myself the target instead. I told them I was Father's heir, that my blood would be more valuable than yours even if I didn't have the gem on my head like the druids. At that time, the lookalike features made them approve of me, I guess."
I wasn't entirely sure of what had happened; I just said it all according to the way it was set in my memories, even if they were blurred. From the look on Celeste's face, she couldn't remember either.
I turned my blindfolded gaze towards her before asking, "You can't remember what happened?"
She paused for a moment, then said, "No, all my memories of that day are foggy. What I remember most was passing out and then waking up in the manor."
I nodded. It was the same for me. Those people probably did something to us, and I still don't get why they took only me. Did they just come for me specifically?
Then I heard more crying. Celeste made a choked sound. "But why? Why would you do that?"
————-
Celeste felt as if her entire world was being rewritten. The narrative she had constructed over the past two years—that her brother was responsible for their father's death, that he had selfishly led them into danger—was crumbling before her eyes.
As Lucian spoke about sacrificing himself for her, something in her heart broke. The wall of resentment she had built to protect herself from grief came crashing down. She remembered now how close they had been as children—how he had always looked up to her, followed her around like a shadow, his eyes full of admiration.
And she had repaid that devotion with hatred. She had let her pain blind her to his suffering. The worst part was that he had allowed it—had encouraged it, even—believing it would help her heal.
What kind of sister had she become? What kind of person?
————
Holding Celeste as softly as I could, I continued my act, though keeping it up made me feel somewhat disgusted with myself. For some reason, it felt like I was discovering more of myself that I didn't know existed. If I had been back on Earth, I could have been one of the best movie actors. Too bad that life was left behind.
Still holding her, I directed my hands to her face. Even if I couldn't see, my senses were so heightened that I could easily pinpoint where she was by the way she was breathing softly on my face. I rubbed her cheek with my thumb, as if I were preparing for a kiss, but I kept my gaze on her.
"Because you're my sister," I said simply. "And I couldn't bear the thought of what they might do to you."
I heard her start to cry softly before she held my hand on her cheek with one of her hands. "All this time... I've been so cruel to you. And you never said a word to defend yourself."
I knew we were too close, but I didn't care. I just wanted her to feel safe. The shoulder I was offering her would stand as proof that I would always be there for her. The best part was that when she was alone and thinking about how things had gotten to be like this, it would reinforce our connection—it was like an investment of emotional dependency.
"I never wanted you to know," I replied. "After Father died, you needed something to focus your grief on. I could bear your hatred if it helped you heal."
The next moment, I felt her arms around me, hugging me gently but desperately. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed against my shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry."
I tentatively raised a hand to pat her back, pretending to be unused to such affection from her. "It's alright," I whispered. "I forgive you. I always have."
After staying like that for a while, she pulled back, and I could sense her wiping tears from her face.
"I swear I'll make it up to you," she said, her voice stronger now, determined. "I'll be the sister I should have been all along."
"I'd like that," I replied with a soft expression on my face. "I've missed you, Celeste."
She took my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "I've missed you too, little brother. More than I realized."
————
Aurora stood just outside the door, listening to the emotional reunion taking place within. A small smile played on her lips as she observed the masterful way Lucian was manipulating his sister. It was almost artistic—the perfect blend of truth and fiction, vulnerability and calculation.
She could have left them to their reconciliation. She should have, really. But something about Lucian's control of the situation, the way he was binding his sister to him through guilt and manufactured love, stirred something within her. A mischievous impulse took hold.
With a subtle flick of her fingers, she sent a strand of magical energy into the room, invisible to all but the most accomplished magical practitioners. It wormed its way toward Celeste, gently caressing her mind, awakening feelings that should not exist between siblings.
"Let's see how far this little drama can go," Aurora whispered to herself, eyes glinting with curiosity and something darker.
————-
I made my body tremble a bit, and Celeste softly asked, "Does the injury still hurt?"
I replied, "No, it's fine. Don't worry about it at all. I'm going to be alright."
She didn't reply and only raised her hands to hold my cheek the way I had held hers earlier. Then, all of a sudden, she pressed her lips against mine.
I raised my eyebrow, not expecting this to happen. I turned my gaze toward the door, and from there, I could already hear Aurora giggling. It was her doing, but I didn't say anything. My sister's lips were still on mine; it was more like she was trying to suck on my lips. After a few minutes, she stopped and pulled back, breathing heavily.
After a while, it seemed clarity returned to her face, because she jumped from the bed while screaming a bit before saying, "I didn't know what happened! Brother, I'm so sorry!"
I turned my gaze to her before raising my hand and saying, "It's fine. Don't worry."
Then she said, "I will come and check on you later. I'm so sorry, brother." She covered her face and ran out of the room.
—————-
Celeste fled down the hallway, her mind reeling with confusion and horror at what she had just done. What had possessed her to kiss her brother like that? It wasn't a sisterly peck on the cheek, but a real kiss—the kind shared between lovers. Her lips still tingled from the contact.
She ducked into her room, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it, heart hammering in her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes again, but these were tears of shame and confusion.
"What is wrong with me?" she whispered, sliding down to sit on the floor. "First I nearly kill him, and now this?"
She touched her lips, remembering the unexpected rush of desire that had overcome her. It had felt like a compulsion, an irresistible urge that had taken control of her body. One moment she had been overwhelmed with regret and sisterly affection, and the next...
Celeste shook her head violently, trying to dispel the memory. Perhaps it was just confusion—emotional turmoil from the revelations about her brother's sacrifice mixing with her guilt and relief. Yes, that must be it. She was just confused, her emotions in chaos.
But deep down, she knew something else had been at work. Something that frightened her more than she cared to admit.
—————-
I kept my gaze at the door without changing my expression, and then Aurora walked in, giggling.
"Was that really necessary?" I asked. I knew the way Celeste had kissed me must have been Aurora's handiwork.
She replied while giggling, "Well, you guys were taking your sweet time. I couldn't wait, so I had to do something. Hehe. Besides, you should have seen her face when she realized what she had done. She's not so innocent as she appears. But well, I already did what I had to do, and I'm pretty sure you're already cooking up something else for her."