This is a "Who Made Me A Princess" Fanfiction
The first time that she died was from a misunderstanding; however, rather than being reincarnated as Lee Jihye, Athanasia de Alger Obelia is brought back in time and reborn as herself.
Her second time, s...
Includes mentions of public shame, death, and feeling worthless.
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"Make way for his majesty, Emperor Claude de Alger Obelia and her highness, Princess Athanasia de Alger Obelia!" The princess debuting that day, a fourteen-year-old maiden that couldn't stay dead, sucked in a breath, wondering what a proper debutante would be like. Especially with how she had her father by her side, urged by Felix to ask him rather than Felix himself, how would the aristocrats look at her then?
When the doors finally opened and the crowd turned, she couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping her mouth.
"How bland," the amused princess thought, looking up at her father when he glanced at her. "They're so weak compared to the nobles back then."
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"What's the matter?" Claude asked with a hint of concern in his voice. Athanasia looked back up at him, smiling with immense gaiety and capturing the hearts of everyone within the hall. As if she hadn't already captured the hearts of everyone else that she had ever encountered. "Nothing Papa, I'm just so happy to be escorted by you!"
"Are you nervous? If you want, I can make them keep their heads down until the ceremony is over." A burst of warmth spread within his amused daughter, and her smile became softer. The awed crowd watched as they descended the marble staircase, a father and a daughter straight out of some fairytale, smiling at one another.
"Don't be so uptight, papa. I'm not the only one debuting tonight." She laughed, ignoring those disgustingly bland eyes. The more that she looked at them, the more disappointed she felt. Truly, that disappointment was more disconcerting than the Jennet matter itself.
"That's true. Considering how you were ripping my hair out and hitting my face when you were little, you can't possibly be intimidated by something as trivial as this." Athanasia laughed again, the sound as alluring as the previous Jennets'. The crowd withheld their gasps, entranced by the sound even as the girl that they were attracted to was laughing from a resigned sense of distress.
"Fair," she thought, "how can my debutante be anything of importance? And really, what's the point of a debutante in the first place?"
For any other princess out there, and most likely every single Jennet that Athanasia had ever met, a debutante is something special. To be recognized as an adult and introduced into high society, there was nothing more significant than finally being able to walk out of their mansions. However, for Athanasia, none of that mattered.
She was already an adult, a broken and beaten down one since a lifetime ago. She had already seen high society look down on her pleading form. Not once can she possibly consider them significant now.
Not once can she ever consider her debutante meaningful again.
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And her father's words, the man that she looked up to the most, just agreed with her without meaning to.
Rather than insecure, death had already just taken away her worth because the original Athanasia was beautiful. She was living and, therefore, was precious. But that girl had already died and said undying princess knew, deep inside, she had already become as useless as her father.
