𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖘

𝐭𝐰𝐨

𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄

(Name) woke up.

The familiar feel of the lush, velvety drapes of her mattress brushed softly against her skin. Sitting upright, albeit slowly, she rubbed her eyes before sighing contently at the sight of her bedroom.

"Although I do not deserve heaven," Her eyes dragged themselves across the room, staring intently at each of her furniture in their usual places. Nostalgia filled her chest as (Name) grasped her trembling hands on her lap. "I am thankful to see this again."

It has been a while since she slept in a bed. The charges against the Stahal family has made the trial proceed for months, making her sleep in a prison cell just as long, so she had to make do in a pile of hay. God knows she needed her rest after her family moved on to Paradise.

Her neck throbbed as past memories of her suffering ran through her mind. Everything was still vivid, so clear, as if she had never forgotten each detail of the torture she has been through.

The royal guards put her through so much pain to get her to speak of her crime. (Name) ran a hand through her neck, as if I had a crime in the first place.

Her brows furrowed at the sight of her clean, unmarked arms. She dragged her hands across her bare legs, trying to feel the bumps and wounds she had gained during the guards' continuous interrogation.

The scars, Her eyes widened. They're gone!

Her dress, a simple nightgown she had always wore at night before her tragedy, was clean, free of the dirt and grime she had accumulated from the long months without any proper baths.

"Strange," (Name) hummed, gliding her hand across the nightgown, the high quality silk tickled her fingers. "This dream feels so real.."

She left the comfort of her bed, sauntering slowly towards one of the many closets in the room. A mirror had been glued to the wall, it's design made of expensive marble that seemed to shine under the window's escaping sunlight.

(Name) neared the reflective glass and saw a woman looking back at her with the same expression on her face. She had gotten shorter, her face young and healthy with her hands and feet manicured to perfection - far from her past state: dirty and unkempt.

Her (hair colour) was also healthier, albeit unbrushed. (Name) ran her fingers along the soft strands, trying to tame the nest on top of her head. She looked seventeen at best, as (Name) could not remember her face five years ago. She had died at twenty-two, a week before her birthday.

"Youth..." She murmured under breath. The word was often taken for granted, people her age often wandered about in the world, unbothered. They had no worries for their responsibilities as future adults, as they seemed to focus only on themselves. "Was I not the same?"

After becoming an adult, she had focused on her studies and ignored the responsibility of the household. She had left the duties to her brother and aimed to get to the top of her class. She had achieved that at twenty-two years of age: the first female in history to recieve the highest grades in the academy.

"But at what price?" Two months after graduation, her family was killed, their titles stripped and their name erased from history. Her hard work and her achievements were in vain, as it had been useless her family was in peril. "If I could turn back time, I would have focused on my family more."

(Name) had been cold to her parents and her brother, it was just her personality. She received the same treatment - she still remembered the cold stare her mother gave her as she wasted away in her deathbed.