The women awoke this time in a green dress. She sat up, scratching at the fabric. The floorboards creaked under her bare feet. All four walls were wooded. A sturdy white bed and dresser stood to her left while a couch stood to her right. Her senses adjusted. A man sat on the couch, donned in a cloak of black and silver. His hair was shaved at the sides, revealing the jewels sparkling there. One solid memory settled into her brain. Erya ,that was her name. But this man decided to give her a new one.
"You're name is Angela. Angela Watstone. You will be my wife."
Erya blinked. She did not like this man.
"Who are you?"
"Eric Watstone, your husband."
"I think not."
This inspired an eye roll from him as he stood. "I don't think you want to be put back into that sorry ass hole you call a grave, do you?"
"Is that a threat?" She sneered.
"It's a promise if you disobey me you little-"
"Eric," a woman came through a door a few feet beside them, clasping the buttons on her white embroidered suit. Erya recalled the angelic face from before. Her large hair was unpinned and vast, spilling about her shoulders like the darkest wine. "I leave for a second and your already spewing threats."
"She disobeys me." he turned. The woman passed him and ruffled his curls.
"People don't respond well to threats, little brother. Especially threats from soon to be Kings." She patted his shoulder. "Mom calls for you. Something about training."
Eric tensed. He began to leave but not before turning. "Remember what I said, Deadling." And shut the door.
"Don't worry about Eric, he's harmless."
"He makes me angry."
"So does a big portion of the Geina population. Teenagers will do that to you."
"How old?"
"Twenty of his years. Revivers live long into their two hundreds." She looked up at her. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Erya meant to answer but her words were swallowed by those eyes. The deepest blue contrasting against her dark skin.
"Your memories," she tried again. "Has everything come back yet?"
"Some," Erya recalled a flash of light. "Bits and pieces."
"I see," the woman nodded. "The dead usually don't get all of their memories back. Some lives..."she whispered. "Are meant to end. It is how new ones begin." She smiled and Erya could no longer hold the question.
"Your name?" The woman stood then and in all her elegance, extended a manicured hand.
"Rew Watstone. And yours?"
Erya took her hand, firm and soft in her grip.
"I need you to breathe."
"Erya."
STAI LEGGENDO
Darling Unload Me
FantasyErya is dead. That is all that she can recall when she is revived from the dead. In Geina, she has been given another chance at life. But with the clash of her old and new memories as well as the growing feelings for a certain Princess, Erya must fi...
