Fake Saintess

Getting accepted into the Betelgeuse Advanced Academy for Magic is no easy feat, even if you graduated from the finest magical high school. So when your acceptance letter arrived, you felt lucky. What's more, you discovered you would be attending the same academy as the future royal saintess, Claudia Rayfield.

You had always admired the Rayfield family—the saintess line. Going to the same school as her? What an honour. And what made it even more exciting? You were friends with her.

"Don't tell anyone we're friends, okay?" Claudia had said to you when you were alone in the abandoned building behind the chapel. Her voice was soft, almost nervous. "I'm not really supposed to be friends with commoners. The temple would disapprove."

You didn't fully understand, but you nodded anyway. Instead of feeling hurt, you considered yourself special. Claudia Rayfield wanted to be friends with you despite the difference in your social standing. That meant something, didn't it?

So you kept her secret. You never called out to her in public. You never stood beside her during meals. You never told a single soul that the future saintess visited your dorm room late at night, stitching up your wounds after a particularly bad day.

Because even if Claudia never seemed to be there when the bullying happened...

...She always found you afterwards.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you," she would whisper as she dabbed ointment on your cuts and put gauze on it. Her ruby eyes glistened with what looked like genuine sorrow. "I wish I could have been there to help."

"Don't worry about it," you always replied, wincing slightly. "You're busy. I know you are."

It was true. Claudia Rayfield was rarely at school. The temple required her presence for blessings, purification rites, and saintess training. Most students only saw her once or twice a week. You considered yourself fortunate that she made time for you at all.

"Besides," you added one evening, noticing a bruise peeking out from her skirt, "you look hurt too. Let me take care of you for once."

Her ruby eyes went still. For a moment, she looked almost awkward—as though no one had ever offered to tend to her wounds before.

"How did you notice that?" she asked quietly as you cleaned the scrape on her knee.

"Because I care about you."

Care about you.

Something shifted in her expression that night. You couldn't quite name it. But from then on, her visits became more frequent. Her touches lingered a little longer. She started calling you precious.

You didn't question it. You were just grateful.

---

The bullying had always been bad. Noble children looked down on commoners, and you were an easy target. But over the past few months, it had grown worse.

The rooftop.

A group of arrogant noble children forced you to stand at the edge, laughing at your terror. Heights made your stomach drop. They knew this. They found it hilarious.

"You're shaking like a leaf!"

"Maybe she'll wet herself!"

You didn't respond. You just stared at the ground far below and prayed for it to end.

"Stop it. Right now."

The voice cut through the laughter like a blade. When you turned your head, you saw her – Claudia Rayfield, the future saintess, standing at the rooftop door. Behind her were two members of the student council, wands raised.

"It's the Rayfield!" one of the bullies whispered. But there was something strange in his tone. Confusion. Fear. Betrayal.

Claudia rushed past the frozen bullies and pulled you away from the edge. Her hands were warm. Her eyes were wide with genuine horror.

"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" She examined your face, your arms, your uniform. "I'll heal you. Just hold still."

Her magic washed over you—soft, golden, impossibly gentle. You felt your bruises fade.

"I didn't know," she murmured, almost to herself. "I didn't know any of this was happening."

Behind her, one of the bullies found his voice. "But you told us to – you said –" He stopped, looking genuinely ill. "You promised the council wouldn't touch us. You promised."

Claudia turned, her expression hardening into something you had never seen before. It wasn't anger, exactly. It was cold. Regal. The face of someone who would one day speak for the gods themselves.

"I have never spoken to any of you in my life," she said quietly. "And I have certainly never ordered anyone to be bullied."

The bullies looked at each other. The colour drained from their faces.

"You just threw us away?" one of them whispered in disbelief. "Is that why you told us not to tell anyone that this was your order?"

Claudia's composure cracked for just a moment. Her ruby eyes flickered with something you couldn't name.

Then the student council stepped forward and bound the bullies with magic. "All evidence has been recorded on the magical device," one of them announced. "The school will deal with you accordingly."

You should have felt relieved. Instead, you felt the world tilting beneath your feet.

"Claudia," you said slowly, "why don't you want anyone to know I'm your friend?"

She turned back to you, her expression softening into confusion. "What?"

"You're my best friend," you continued, your voice trembling. "You said I was the most important thing to you. You visited me every night. You treated my wounds. Why won't you admit that in front of other people?"

Claudia stared at you. Her mouth opened, then closed.

"I... I don't know you," she said finally. Her voice was gentle – too gentle, like she was speaking to someone fragile. "I've never seen you before today. But I would be happy to be your friend. Truly."

The words hit you like a physical blow.

Never seen you before today.

"Liar," one of the bullies hissed from behind the council's magical restraints. "You're a liar. You used us. You promised us protection. And now you're pretending she's a stranger?"

Claudia flinched. For a moment, she looked almost guilty – not because she had done anything wrong, but because she couldn't understand what was happening.

You couldn't stay there any longer. You turned and ran.

---

You spent hours crying in your dorm room – sobbing until your throat burned and your eyes swelled shut. None of it made sense. Claudia had looked at you like you were a stranger. But she wasn't. She was your only friend. She had to be.

Then you heard a tap at the window.

A small white bird sat on the sill – one of Claudia's familiars. Tied to its leg was a folded piece of parchment.

'I'm sorry about what happened on the roof. Meet me in the music room after dark. I'll explain everything. – C'

You didn't hesitate. You wiped your face, pulled on your coat, and slipped out of your room.

---

The music room was empty when you arrived. Moonlight slanted through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes floating in the air. A grand piano sat in the corner, its lid closed like a sleeping eye.

You walked further in, your footsteps echoing.

That was when you saw it – a swirling portal of deep violet light, hovering in the centre of the room. Before you could react, it pulled you forward. The world twisted. Your feet left the ground.

You landed on something soft.

A bed.

You sat up slowly, your head spinning. You were in a bedroom – spacious, decorated in a gothic lolita style with velvet drapes, porcelain dolls, and dark antique furniture. It smelled of roses and something musty, like old secrets.

"What...?"

Footsteps approached from the shadows.

Claudia stepped into the light. But something was wrong. Her face wasn't gentle. Her lips weren't curved into that soft, apologetic smile you knew so well. She looked at you the way a collector looks at a new doll.

"C-Claudia?" you stammered. "Where are we? What is this place?"

She tilted her head. When she spoke, her voice was lower than you remembered. Rougher—but only just. If you hadn't been paying close attention, you might have missed it.

"Claudia?" she repeated. "It's time you stopped calling me that."

She reached up and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Then she unbuttoned her shirt—and threw out a pair of bra pads that landed on the floor with a soft thump.

Your blood turned to ice. But even without the pads... her figure was still slender. Still delicate. She—no, he—looked almost exactly the same.

"I am Clyde Rayfield," he said. "Your idol's twin brother."

"But—why—"

Before you could finish, he stepped closer and pushed you onto the bed. He wasn't overwhelmingly strong. His weight wasn't crushing. But his eyes—those familiar ruby eyes—burned with something dark and hungry.

"Because I hate her," he whispered. "It's always Claudia. Always her. Her, her, her. Everyone loves her. Even girls like you worship her. But nobody knows me. Nobody remembers me. I am nothing next to her."

His grip tightened on your wrists. His hands were slender—just like hers. But colder.

"At first, you were just a tool. Someone lonely enough to believe anything. I wore her face, spoke with her voice, and you never questioned it. Because you were so desperate to be loved."

He pressed even closer, and you felt something hard nudged against your stomach.

"The bullies thought she ordered them to torment you. They'll talk. Everyone will believe Claudia Rayfield is a fraud—a kind face hiding a cruel heart." He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Her reputation will crumble. The temple will investigate. She will finally understand how it feels when your parents are disappointed in you."

He leaned closer. His breath was warm against your ear.

"But then something changed. You offered to take care of me. You said you cared about me. Nobody has ever..." He stopped. Swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice trembled. "I've decided you won't leave this dimension. People will think you ran away because Claudia hurt you. No one will suspect me."

Suddenly, shadowy arms emerged from beneath the mattress—dozens of them, black as oil, reaching for you. They tore at your clothes. They held you down.

Clyde's breathing quickened. His ruby eyes gleamed in the dim light.

"Nobody remembers me," he whispered. "Nobody knows I exist."

He looked at you and for a single moment, you saw something beneath the rage.

Loneliness.

"...But you," he said softly, "will give me love. You will give me everything. Until there's nothing left of that body of yours."

Then, Clyde removed the rest of the academy's female uniform. Underneath, his body was lean—almost fragile. No broad shoulders. No visible muscle. Just the same slender frame you had always seen.

He caught your staring and smirked bitterly.

"Thank God you're so stupid," he said. "You didn't even realise that the real Claudia doesn't need gauze to treat wounds. She can use light magic."