Switched Luna

Chapter 7: Habit

|Carmella|

I stepped out of the car, the gravel crunching under my feet as I took in the sight before me. It was the kind of place that made you feel small, insignificant in its shadow.

The estate is rather large and wide. The mansion was even more imposing in person than I had imagined. The two-storey structure, with its perfectly manicured gardens and marble fountain, loomed above me, a testament to old-world elegance and wealth that had stood the test of time. I know that the Gilmore's were already filthy rich, but I did not expect that they're ‘this’ rich.

Every detail was meticulously designed, from the ivy that crept up the stone walls to the grand double doors framed by ornate pillars. The windows were tall and narrow, each one like a watchful eye, and I couldn’t help but wonder what secrets were hidden behind them.

"Shall we head inside, Luna?" Janina’s voice cut through my thoughts, gently pulling me back to the present. There was a hint of concern in her eyes. I realized then that I must have been staring at the mansion like an outsider, overwhelmed by its grandeur. I quickly composed myself, straightening my posture and forcing a sense of authority into my demeanor.

From this moment forward, I have to play the role of the estate's master with confidence and conviction. There’s no room for hesitation or second-guessing. My stay here is not just temporary; it’s a mission. I need to uncover the truth behind Camilla's condition, and I’ll remain until she wakes. Until then, I must carry myself as though I belong, as though I know exactly what I'm doing.

"Yes, let's go inside," I replied, my voice firm. "And please, have the cook prepare a light breakfast for me. The journey was long, and I find myself in need of something to eat." I ordered and forced myself to move, walking up the stone steps that led to the front door. The closer I got, the more I felt the weight of what I was about to do.

The doors opened before I could knock, and I was greeted by the stern face of a servant—a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense air about her. She gave me a slight bow, her expression carefully neutral.

Oh, this is Mrs. Potts, the housekeeper of the mansion.

“Welcome home, Luna,” Mrs. Potts said, her voice smooth and practiced. The title made my stomach twist. I had to remind myself that I was Camilla now, at least for the time being.

“You’ve returned earlier than expected. We didn’t anticipate your arrival until tomorrow,” Mrs. Potts remarked, her tone laced with a hint of surprise that bordered on insolence.

My brow arched, and I fixed my gaze on her, scrutinizing the subtle undertone in her voice. The hint of disrespect made my pulse quicken with irritation. Slowly, I shifted my stance, turning to face her fully, letting her see that she now had my undivided attention.

“Is there a particular reason why my arrival today should be an issue?” I responded, my voice deliberately cold, a tone I reserved for those who dared to challenge my authority. Mrs. Potts’s head jerked up, her eyes wide with shock as if she hadn’t anticipated my icy retort. I could see her falter, her surprise betraying the fear she tried to mask.

Raising my brow higher, I crossed my arms over my chest, a deliberate gesture meant to emphasize my dominance, reminding her of who she was dealing with. For a moment, I let that intimidation settle between us, temporarily forgetting the delicate role I was supposed to play.

“What?” Mrs. Potts stammered, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in power dynamics.

Before I could press further, Janina stepped in smoothly, her presence a calming counterbalance to the tension I had unwittingly created. “My apologies, Mrs. Potts,” Janina interjected, her voice gentle yet firm as she moved to stand beside me, slipping her arm through mine. “Luna is exhausted from her journey. I’ll take her to her room now. Could you please inform the cook that she’d like a light breakfast? I’ll bring it up to her as soon as she’s settled.”

Janina’s words were accompanied by a meaningful look in my direction, a silent plea to reign in my temper. I exhaled slowly, forcing the tension out of my body, and dropped my hands to my sides.

“My head is throbbing,” I muttered, feigning fatigue as I turned towards the staircase, Janina close by my side.

As we ascended, I stole a glance at the mansion’s grand architecture, the intricate details that normally would have captured my attention. But right now, I had no room for appreciation, not when I had nearly compromised everything with my outburst. Old habits die hard, and my instinct to assert control had almost shattered the carefully constructed facade I needed to maintain.

Damn!

As I followed Janina down the hallways, a knot of anticipation tightened in my chest. I half expected her to correct me for my sudden outburst toward Mrs. Potts the moment we were out of sight. But Janina remained silent, her demeanor composed, as if carefully weighing her words. Her caution spoke volumes. The silence between us lingered as we made our way to the west wing of the mansion, where my bedroom—Camilla’s bedroom—awaited.

A sharp pang of sadness washed over me. My heart ached for Camilla. I should have known that she and Theodore sleep in different bedrooms. But it was hard to believe that this is Camilla’s life. I couldn't help but think back to the days when Camilla, ever the dutiful daughter, bent so easily to our mother’s will, sacrificing her own desires to keep the peace. And now, this is her reward? A life of isolation, trapped in a marriage where love has been replaced by indifference? It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Yet, as much as this new knowledge pained me, I knew it could work to my advantage. Their bedrooms were in opposite wings of the house—his in the east, hers in the west. The distance between them felt like a physical manifestation of whatever had gone wrong between them.

Walking through the corridors, an unsettling feeling crept over me, as though I was trespassing into someone else's life. But this was where I belonged now, where Camilla had once found comfort and solitude. Her room, tucked away at the far end of the west wing, was both a sanctuary and a reminder of the role I had to play.

As soon as we stepped inside, Janina closed the door with a soft click, locking us into privacy. Her expression was no longer neutral.

"Luna…you shouldn’t have done that," she began, her voice tinged with concern.

I exhaled slowly, running my fingers through my hair, trying to ease the tension that had coiled within me. I sank onto the bed, its softness a stark contrast to the stiffness I felt. Janina didn’t hesitate to continue, her tone firm but not unkind.

"As I’ve mentioned before, Lady Camilla avoids confrontations. She prefers to ignore those who overstep their boundaries, keeping attention away from herself and her affairs."

A wave of guilt washed over me. "I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice subdued. "I forgot for a moment what I was supposed to do. Being disrespected, even indirectly, brought out an instinct I’m used to—one I should’ve kept in check."

Janina’s gaze softened slightly. "It’s good we managed to defuse the situation before it escalated. But please, Luna, be mindful of your actions moving forward."

I nodded, rising from the bed to take in the room around me. Everything was new, yet a strange sense of familiarity tugged at me. The blend of the unknown and the known stirred a deep, poignant nostalgia within me. Some corners were like a time capsule, a snapshot of who she had been before everything changed—before I ran away from home eight years ago and left her behind.