Life After Death by Ice Cream

I nodded, swallowing the mixed emotions that churned within me. There were too many feelings I couldn't even begin to untangle. Fear, hope, anger it was like a tangled mess of yarn in my head, and no matter which string I pulled, it all led to the same truth: my life had changed beyond recognition. Mira and I stepped out of the manor, and my breath hitched.

The courtyard was something straight out of a painting, a stark contrast to the suffocating gloom of the manor's interior. Sprawling gardens stretched out, meticulously maintained with exotic flowers that seemed to glow under the midday sun.

Neatly trimmed hedges bordered the cobblestone path, leading to a grand iron gate adorned with intricate carvings. The sound of birds chirping happily contrasted sharply with the cold silence that reigned inside.

I stared, unable to hide my surprise. Who knew there was this much life just beyond those depressing walls? The realization hit me hard my old life was truly gone, and there was no going back. I was stuck here, in this pristine cage.

Mira's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Madame Lyselle, where do you want to go?" she asked, her eyes filled with suspicion as she glanced at me from the corner of her eye. Of course, she was still wary. She probably thought I'd make a break for it and run straight to that idiot Eirik. But please, I had more sense than that barely.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I just needed some air, Mira. It doesn't hurt to go outside once in a while, does it?" I replied with a smile, trying to appear as innocent as possible. Mira's face twisted in doubt, her eyes narrowing. She wasn't buying it, and honestly, I couldn't care less what she thought.

We walked down the path, leaving the courtyard behind. As we exited the gates, the city came alive around us. People bustled about, going about their daily lives, completely oblivious to the mess that was mine.

The street vendors were shouting out their prices, kids were running around with sticky hands from sweet. It was strangely normal, almost too normal for someone like me. The thought was oddly comforting and terrifying all at once.

As we wandered through the streets, Mira stayed close, her presence a constant reminder that I wasn't trusted, not even for a second. And then there were the bodyguards oh yes, because heaven forbid I step outside without an entourage.

They trailed behind us, pretending to be subtle, but their bulging muscles and stern faces kind of gave it away. Did they think I'd start a revolution in broad daylight? I rolled my eyes.

Mira, trying to act casual, kept glancing at me as if expecting me to bolt any second. "Do you like the city?" she asked, her tone forced as if she were reading from a script.

"It's... lively," I said, looking around. There was an old woman selling flowers on the corner, her stand bursting with colors. I almost stopped to buy one but thought better of it; no need to give Mira any more reasons to think I'd lost it. Two hours of wandering, and my stomach started making demands. Mira must have noticed because she stopped and turned to me with a surprisingly genuine smile.

"We've seen enough. How about we grab something to eat? I know a good restaurant nearby," she said, her tone less guarded than usual.

I raised an eyebrow. Was she finally convinced that I wasn't planning a great escape? "Sure, let's do that," I said, nodding. I half-expected her to lead me to a simple diner or something low-key, but no, of course not. A few minutes later, we stood in front of a luxurious restaurant that screamed 'You don't belong here' at me.

The exterior was grand, with ornate carvings, large windows, and an entrance that looked like it was made to welcome royalty. A gold-plated sign read: "The Palace of Light". Because why eat at a normal place when you can dine at the palace of light, right?

I blinked, half-wondering if this was a joke. "This is where we're eating?"

Mira smiled, all too pleased with herself. "Only the best for you, Madame."

"Of course," I muttered under my breath, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place I felt. As we entered, I was hit with a wave of opulence. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling like a constellation of stars.

The ground floor was bustling, filled with elegantly dressed patrons chatting away. But then there were the stairs an elaborate staircase leading up to the VIP section. Downstairs was for the rich. Upstairs? That was for the ridiculously rich.

A server in a sleek black suit approached us, bowing slightly before leading us upstairs without so much as asking for our names. I was whisked away to the VIP section, where the air seemed lighter, the decor more extravagant, and the gazes more judgmental. The server pulled out my chair, gesturing for me to sit, but when I looked to my side, Mira was just standing there like a statue.

"Mira, sit down. We're eating together," I said, patting the seat next to me.

Mira looked at me like I'd just suggested we dine in a sewer. The shock on her face was almost comical. The old Amara would never share a table with someone of 'lower status,' but hey, the old Amara was a complete snob, so there's that.

"I… are you sure?" Mira stammered, her eyes darting around as if this were some elaborate trap.

"Yes, Mira, sit. I promise I won't bite," I teased, and she hesitantly took a seat, her posture stiff like she was sitting on pins and needles.

A menu was handed to us, and as I flipped through it, I felt my soul leave my body. The dishes were all ridiculously pretentious, with names that sounded like they were crafted by a poet on a sugar high.

"Delicately Poached Pheasant with a Truffle Reduction and Gold Flakes." Seriously, gold flakes? Who needs to eat gold? Was I in some kind of fever dream? And don't even get me started on the prices. I'd eaten full meals for less than the cost of a glass of water here.

Mira, noticing my expression, cleared her throat nervously. "The chef's special is... uh... highly recommended."

"Yeah, I bet it is," I muttered, glancing at a dish that sounded suspiciously like a glorified salad with pearls. "This whole menu is just... it's... wow," I grumbled, holding back a stream of curses. I could feel my patience wearing thin. I wasn't sure if I was hungry or just overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of it all.

I was about to settle on a less insane option when something or rather someone caught my eye. A woman walked in on the floor below, and it was like the world itself stopped just to get a glimpse of her.

She was stunning in a way that was almost unreal. Long, wavy hair that cascaded down her back, bright, striking eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets, and an outfit that was both chic and effortlessly elegant, unlike anything I'd ever seen. She moved with a grace that made everyone else look like background noise.

I couldn't help but stare. Who was she? An actress? A model? A goddess who had lost her way and wandered into a restaurant? Because that was the vibe she gave off. She was simply the most beautiful person I had ever laid eyes on, and I've seen plenty of beautiful people. For a moment, I almost felt... small.

"Amara? Are you alright?" Mira's voice snapped me out of my daze, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the woman.

As if sensing my gaze, she turned her head and looked straight at me. Our eyes met, and a chill ran down my spine. There was something intense about her gaze cold, almost hateful. What the hell? I didn't even know her, but it was like she could see right through me. My heart skipped a beat.

Then, as if on cue, an invisible screen popped up in front of me with bright red letters that read:

[Favorability -5 with Elara]

Elara? Was that her name? And why the hell did she already hate me?

I blinked at the screen, my mind spinning. This was bad. Very bad. And knowing my luck, it was probably about to get worse.