Everyone made far too much of a fuss about the injury. It wasn't very deep or dangerous, and a doctor had already treated it by the time anyone else ever saw it, and yet they still fussed. None fussed more than Anne- Ophelia's sister, who the game never even mentioned - and Nessa.
Another figure not mentioned in the story, Nessa was Ophelia's nanny, a motherly woman who seemed to deeply care for Ophelia. Moreso than the woman identifying herself as my mother.
My mother.
Anne and Nessa weren't 'Ophelia's' anymore, but mine. My life…it wasn't ordinary and unimportant anymore. It was extravagant, incredible, fantastic. I was beautiful, rich, adored, and…more important than any of that, I lived in a world with Viktor.
Just as soon as the servants stopped clucking over me at all hours over my injury, I quickly penned a love-note. Every word of it was true but it was also…written in a poetic style I knew Viktor would love and find irresistible.
No rule said that only the heroine got to do things specifically tailored to woo a man, after all.
My lips purse as I stare at the letter. Impulsively, I'd written 'your secret admirer'...but it occurs to me I don't know very much about this chapter of his life. It was simply brushed over in his route.
I can be reasonably confident no one will be pursuing him…but…flashes of tragic comedies run through my mind, and after a moment I quickly dig around in my room.
"Where is it…"
Ah!
The perfume. Ophelia is so rich that she's not the one who picks out her own makeup and perfume usually, but this is the one I'd been wearing that day. If I make sure to always wear it when I see him, then he'll know even before I confess.
My lips quirk up in a little smile as I lightly spray the envelope.
Viktor enjoys a bit of romantic mystery, after all.
Glancing carefully around the halls, I don a cloak to conceal my identity and slip quietly out through a side door of the manor.
It's still early morning - early enough the sun hasn't even thought about getting out of bed yet - and that means Viktor won't yet be at the clinic. But he will be soon.
Soft footfalls slap on the cobble pavement beneath me as I run through the town, the only sound besides my labored, excited breathing that breaks the stillness of pre-dawn morning.
Carefully, by light of a single candle, I pin my perfumed letter to the door.
Before I can lose my nerve, I scramble back into the shadows, out of reach of the letter and any impulsive shyness.
Minutes drag on.
Each time I hear footsteps, I hold my breath, struggling to suppress my excited squeals.
It's just the butcher.
The baker…
A guard half-awake and ready for bed.
Each time I deflate more, even as my cheeks puff out in frustration. Viktor always arrives at his clinic before dawn! His work ethic would never let him be late!!
Could…he be…already in the clinic, sitting in the dark for some reason? Perhaps I should walk up and knock on the door to catch his attention…?
Fortunately, before I can step out of the shadows and reveal myself, he appears. His hair is a bit messy, his face groggy. He really did just roll out of bed and go straight for the clinic before anything else. I can't help a small smile.
Such a dedicated, beautiful man. Inside and out.
I press my fingers to my lips as I wiggle in excitement, struggling to keep my squeals to myself.
Viktor pauses when his green eyes fall upon the letter. He looks up from the door, glancing around the streets, and I hold my breath, unsure if I want to be caught or not. Finally, he removes it from the door.
Long, gentle fingers break the wax seal with care, clearly not desiring to damage the letter beneath.
As his eyes scan the page, the faintest hint of a smile crosses his lips.
Pressing the letter to his chest, that warm, grateful smile just barely visible on his soft lips, he retreats inside his clinic.
I rush down the street, running away from the clinic in a giddy haze, so that I can giggle in delight without being caught.
He liked it!
He definitely liked it!
When I make it back into my room I throw myself into the bed.
I bury my face into the pillow so I can squeal without waking up the whole manor, kicking my feet, rolling back and forth in the bed as if I were some teenaged girl with a crush.
This…is only the first step, though.
Viktor is a proper fellow,
Shy, refined, slow to open up.
Eileen had it easy, given that the plot simply worked to ensure she kept running into him at key moments, but someone who has loved and researched Viktor as much as I (that means reading all the special extra content and creator interviews about Viktor too!) doesn't need fate on my side.
There's a particular medical textbook, rare and valuable, that I know Viktor wants. In his route, Eileen happens to discover her noble family library has a copy, but with Ophelia's money…I can just buy a copy outright.
Once the servants stop fussing over me, I hurry into the town to secure the book. It is rather pricey, but Ophelia is absurdly rich, so I have plenty of disposable income for gifts like this.
Struggling with the large book, I head over to Viktor's clinic. It's still bright outside, which makes sneaking hard, but he's got the curtains closed to ward against the afternoon sunlight.
Tying another note to the cover, I tiptoe to the front of the clinic.
The door is locked, so I crouch low and place the book on the mat before I ring the bell, quickly fleeing as soon as it's been rung, more like a mischievous child than a secret admirer.
It's silly.
I could find some excuse to go in and see him in person, up close - dangerously close to his beauty - but hiding in the bushes in the alley, just barely still within sight...the idea of seeing him open the door is making my heart race.
The door opens, the doctor peers outside in surprise. His face turns towards where I'm hiding, and I suck in a deep, anxious breath.
But he isn't looking at me, he's staring off to the side, with the smallest smile curling up his lips.
Picking up the book, he steps back into the clinic, and closes the door behind him.
It's good that he didn't see me, because I'd hate to have to explain why I sound like a goblin cackling to myself in delight.