CHAPTER 6
The morning sun filtered through the grand hall where the photoshoot was set, casting a golden glow over a medieval-themed set. Banners bearing the empire's crest were hanging in the background. The stone-like props adding to the illusion of an ancient battlefield.
Kael adjusted the crown on his head and the dress suit he was wearing. He was shifting, a little uncomfortable. He had done countless costume shoots before, but something about today unsettled him.
And then Kalita walked into the set. She was dressed in a full suit armor, her red wig styled perfectly in a ponytail above her head. She exuded an air of confidence. She carried herself with the grace of a knight. Her presence was commanding.
She represented Diandra well as the story described her exactly as she should.
Kael felt uneasy. Because in the back of his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman back at his mansion. He dismissed his theory last night and decided to rest the matter temporarily.
And now, he was back to being haunted by her again. Her natural red hair, the way the armor she wore last night seemed to belong to her, not just a costume.
Kalista stepped into the light, fully made-up and in costume—Kael felt his breath taken.
The resemblance was uncanny. Not just the hair. Not just the armor.
But their faces. They looked nearly identical. It was just the make-up but still…
His hands clenched at his sides.
Kalista caught his gaze and smirked. "What? Do I look that good?"
Kael chuckled. It wasn't from what she said. It was from how ridiculously mad he was at what was happening, remembering the woman at his mansion.
And Kalista somehow felt how he laughed that there was a hint of craziness in it. He had something else on his mind.
Kael forced a small, unreadable smile. "You look convincing."
His head was wrapped around by someone who wasn't in the photoshoot.
The photographers announce for another costume change for him. And this time, he would wear a battle outfit. People assisted him to set everything on him, even his hair. He was wearing extensions for Emperor Darius had lengthy hair. After the changed he was in front of the lenses again.
He shifted in his armor, barely paying attention to the photographers adjusting the lighting. He didn't want to get distracted but two women playing Diandra was maddening.
One stood beside him—Kalista, in full costume. Every detail was perfected by the wardrobe team. The red wig, the polished armor, the sword, even the props. It all looked authentic.
But then, there was the other one back at his mansion.
The unconscious woman. But she could just be wearing a costume. Though she wasn't wearing a wig for when the maids washed it, it was real from the roots.
Then something caught his attention.
It was the dagger held by the other actress beside him. It was the shiniest of all blade props among their peers. The actress was playing as princess Fiona, his sister in the script.
The dagger she clutched in her hand was identical to the one he had seen more closely. It was as realistic as possible for the screen. But it still felt fake for him.
Whereas the dagger he had taken from the stranger back home felt like it had history. Like it had actually been used—not just for the show.
He almost rolled his eyes. Of course, it had dried blood to it. Fake blood, hopefully.
Another thought came to his mind, Diandra's main weapon was a sword, and the woman had a dagger instead. But then, in the story, it was what Diandra had before she was thrown into the well.
And… No.
Stop it, Kael. It could just be a coincidence.
The crew shouted for another couple shoots for him and Kalista, the rest of the actors stepped out of the shoot.
The cameras flashed again. Kael kept his expression composed, playing the part of an emperor and a warrior at the same time for the photoshoot. He struck each pose effortlessly. His body was moving on instinct—but his mind was elsewhere. It was back at the mansion.
Back to the woman lying unconsciously in one of his guestrooms.
He barely registered Kalista moving closer to him between shots. She was brushing imaginary dust off his armor, flashing him small, knowing smiles.
"You know…" She murmured during brief break. "We make an excellent pair, don't we? Just like the old times."
Kael smirked but didn't take the bait. Instead, he let out a short chuckle, as if dismissing the idea entirely. "Just like you said. Old times. But this is the present." He shook his head. "You always did like dramatizing things, Kalista."
Her smile faltered for just a brief second before she regained her confidence again. "Come one, Kael. You can't tell me you don't feel even a little nostalgic?"
He looked at her straight into her eyes. "I can tell you that I don't even feel a little about it." Then he turned to the photographers. "Are we resetting for the next round?"
The crew nodded, and he pushed her hand away from him. He moved away subtly but deliberately.
He noticed her sighing, but he knew she wouldn't give up so easily. She never did. But this time, no matter how hard she tried, it was a lost battle. She was fighting in the wrong time.
Still, Kael had no energy to deal with her attempts at rekindling something he had long since buried. Not when there was something more pressing occupying his mind.
He sauntered back to his make up area and sat on a stool in front of the vanity mirror. He reached for his phone to see if there was any news and just as he was about to open it, his phone buzzed. He discreetly glanced at it while the make-up artist adjusted his look.
It was a text from his butler.
Butler Jones: Sir, the woman is awake.
Kael exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain composed.
Finally.
He quickly typed out a response.
Kael: Keep an eye on her. Don't let her leave until I get back.
Butler Jones: Understood, sir.
Kael locked his phone and breath slowly. He wouldn't drop everything for some stranger, especially when there was a high chance that she was a fraud. His career, his professionalism—those came first.
If she was truly important, she could wait.
He refocused on the photoshoot, slipping back into his character as the cameras clicked. He posed alongside Kalista and the other actors, gripping his sword, wearing his best war-torn expression.
But beneath his calm exterior, his mind kept circling back to the woman at his mansion.
The moment the director called it a wrap, Kael wasted no time.
He gave a polite nod to the crew, handed his prop sword to his assistant, shrugged off his heavy armor, pulled the wig and walked towards the exit.
He heard Kalista calling his name but he didn't slow down. He had no patience for her attempts at nostalgia. Whatever they had was over and he wasn't interested in revisiting it.
Kael slid into his car, wore the seatbelt and speed out of the parking lot.
He'd go home back to the Diandra look-alike in his mansion.