After taking a moment to catch my breath and regain composure, I rise to my feet, walking out of the alley and passing the clinic in broad daylight.
I wave cheerfully to the few passerby who glance at me, but don't meet their gaze, still afraid he might somehow peek out.
Opening the door to my house, I slip in and start skipping upstairs, my cheeks aching from how wide I'm grinning.
Viktor's smile was so adorable!!!
Hopping around, I do a little happy dance. My arms swing around, I kick and hop around in ways that are probably deeply dangerous in noblewomen's boots.
My bedroom door creaks.
Quick as lightning, I stand still.
"Ehm...my lady?"
Relief fills me, but I try not to let it show on my face as I turn.
Nessa stares at me, her wrinkled forehead furrowing further, as if she's trying to understand what she's witnessing.
My body heats up. I clear my throat, reaching up to adjust my hair as I smile at her. "Ah...good afternoon, Nessa. Are you well?"
She eyes me up and down for a moment longer.
"My lady, may I ask, ah...why were you hopping about?"
"Oh." My smile strains. I reach up, brushing back a lock of hair. "I...I'm sure I don't know what you mean." That's the kind of thing people say in these stories to get out of jail free. Right?
"Mmmhhh..."
Nessa stares at me intently, and for a moment, I swear she looks like she sees right through my flimsy disguise, but she shrugs, smiling as she shakes her head.
"Alright, dear. Let's get you changed and ready for your tea party!"
My brows pinch.
I feel like I forgot something I should have remembered, but at her prompting, I realize that Ophelia is invited to a tea party later today.
With her sister and other nobles.
I wrinkle my nose in distaste, but I force a smile. "Thank you, Nessa. Let me get dressed."
Her expression fades from warm and sweet to cool and businesslike, nodding firmly.
Sitting still as she dresses me feels incredibly tedious.
Her hands tug my corset tighter and tighter, until I can barely breathe, and by the end of it, she has me in a frilly dress. It's...really not my type, but it looks very beautiful on Ophelia.
I resist the urge to tug at it or fiddle with the ruffles, the bodice uncomfortably tight on my torso, but at least the skirt is looser.
Walking to the tea party feels ridiculous as well. In my laser focus on Viktor, I've been swept up in the fantasy and freedom of being Ophelia. Adelaide would never have been caught dancing in excitement in her room.
Adelaide would never have been sneaking around giving someone she liked secret notes, either.
I don't regret it - Adelaide...was a sad, useless, unimportant girl no one ever missed.
Too quiet, too plain, too boring. So I'm happy to be Ophelia now, instead of Adelaide, even if being Eileen would have been easier.
But with all the freedom and the glamor and the beauty, it's easy to lose sight of the restrictions on noble life that I can't just press the skip button through.
The fancy clothing.
The awful, tiresome small talk with strangers who ask me shallow, insincere questions that I don't care about.
The formal etiquette of how to eat tea cakes and how to drink from my cup, when to stand up and greet others, when to sit down and wait, when to change topics...
I consider it a sort of self defense mechanism when I bring up Viktor.
"Have you met that doctor?" I ask, cutting through whatever useless gossippy chatter had previously occupied my tablemate and her friends. "The kind young gentleman in the blue building next to the butcher."
The girls all give me a variety of faces. Some with bored disinterest, others with derision, another with concern. But for my part, I keep smiling, batting my eyelashes coquettishly.
"He is truly a marvel of medicine," I continue, not bothering to notice any of their expressions.
"You haven't fallen ill, have you, Lady Ophelia?" One asks, leaning forward with a curious gaze.
"Oh, no, nothing of the sort!" I lean in conspiratorially, looking around as if to check that the walls themselves won't rat me out. "The truth is, I met him the other day, while on a walk! I had cut my arm you see, while...on a walk-"
They look at each other, blinking, unsure how to react, and I charge onward without letting them respond.
"-and the doctor was so very kind. I confess I was afraid, but he was so patient with me, so very understanding, I was hardly frightened at all!"
Tittering laughter bubbles up amongst the group.
"My oh my, you must tell us everything, my lady!" One cries, leaning in with a keen smile.
I draw in a breath. I can't reveal my secret plans, of course, that'd be begging someone to interfere with them. But...emphasizing what a good doctor he is, getting him more clients...that's the sort of thing that'd make him happy.
Make him more successful, too.
I begin telling a completely fabricated tale of how I fell, and how the kind Doctor Viktor saw me and stopped me from bleeding out in the street.
I don't know what any of these noble ladies know or understand of medicine, but I make it seem as if I'm discussing an operatic tragedy to riveting effect.
They hang on my every word, gasping in horror at the most dramatic moments of the story.
I suspect most of them think it's just a particularly amusing story I found. But as they gossip at the party, the whispers of 'Doctor Viktor' slowly become louder.
I smile to myself, once the attention has shifted back off of me.
There.
Now the tea party feels worth it.
"Why of course we'll come visit your new doctor, Lady Ophelia!"
"Oh yes, it sounds quite interesting!"
The buzz is high energy for a while, but eventually the party ends and I return home. The corset feels like it might kill me by the time I finally make it to my room and Nessa takes it off.
When she's out of the room, I stretch my arms above my head and let out an exhale like a deflating balloon, finally able to breathe freely again.