I clutched my hands tightly to my chest, desperate for breath. The sensation was as if an unseen force had burdened my chest with its weight for an eternity. Was this merely a dream or perhaps a vision? Urgently, I leaped out of bed, my heart racing, and dashed towards the mirror, where my tear-streaked reflection stared back at me.
Every detail of that surreal experience lingered within me. The searing heat of the flames, the acrid taste of the engulfing black smoke, and the excruciating pain of being impaled all felt painfully real. But how could it be real when my reflection in the mirror appeared inexplicably younger?
This defied all logic.
With trembling hands, I took a moment to compose myself. "What on earth just happened?" I silently questioned, sinking to my knees in disbelief. The vividness of it all was too overwhelming to dismiss as mere dreaming. Reluctantly, I hoisted myself up and reached for my diary.
"If this was nothing more than a dream, the next entry should be about Alex and me visiting his mother's grave," I reasoned silently as I skimmed through the worn pages of my diary.
"Dear diary,
After weeks of relentless persistence, Prince Alexander finally ceased avoiding me. His eyes bore the weight of exhaustion as if sleep had eluded him for far too long. When I inquired about his troubles, he merely smiled, his expression a paradox of warmth and chill.
I had never known a smile could carry such conflicting emotions."
The realization hit me like a thunderbolt—it wasn't a dream I had just experienced; it was a harsh reality. Could this be my second chance? I'd read stories of divine interventions offering people another shot at life but always dismissed them as mere fantasy.
Overwhelmed by swirling thoughts, I reached a breaking point. "Maybe I'm still dreaming," I pondered, surrendering my weary body back onto the comfort of my bed. Yes, that was it. A good night's sleep might unravel this enigma and provide my desperately sought answers. I gazed vacantly at the wall, waiting patiently for the embrace of slumber to wash over me.
However, when I awoke the next day, everything I thought I knew was flipped on its head. I certainly was given a second lease on life because the body I found myself in was my own, yes, but it was of an eighteen-year-old me.
I stared blankly at my breakfast before me as I tried to sort out everything. If I am now the eighteen-year-old me, then in five years, Prince Alexander will behead the King, take the throne and burn everything to the ground in revenge.
“Sophia, are you okay?”
I lifted my head and smiled. “Yes, Father,” I said, locking eyes with him.
“Oh really? You have yet to touch your breakfast.”
“Is the lowly Prince still causing you trouble?”
I winced at the memory of that comment. My father had never held any affection for Prince Alexander. Perhaps it stemmed from my being a girl and Prince Alexander a boy, or maybe it was rooted in my father's unyielding loyalty to the Crown. Like many others, my father viewed Alexander as feeble and pitiable, a blight on the legacy of House Aethralis.
Despite my father's position as the King's right-hand man, he remained oblivious to Alexander's true identity. It didn't surprise me, for the Queen Consort and Prince Marcus had done a masterful job of obfuscating who Alexander was within the royal lineage.
Deep down, I knew that if it weren't for me, my father might have subjected Alexander to the same abuse that others had inflicted on him since birth. My father often acted as though Alexander didn't exist, never acknowledging him. When I confessed my love for him, my father forbade me from seeing Alexander for months, confining me to my room. Only after extensive persuasion from my mother and my older brother, William, was I allowed to see him.
My father was a man of honour and duty, and in Alexander, he saw none of that. In a misguided attempt to spite the younger prince, he once tried to arrange an engagement between me and Prince Marcus—a move I knew both he and the Queen Consort had orchestrated. It was solely due to my mother's intervention that I escaped such a fate.
My mother, Duchess Celestia, was the sole person with whom I placed my trust. There were days when I sought solace in her, shedding tears as I cursed the world for its treatment of Prince Alexander. She was the only one who listened when I wept over the scars and bruises that Alexander had endured. She alone saw Alexander as a human being when others refused to do so. My mother understood my love for Alexander and recognized my determination not to be the source of any more pain in his life.
"Can we table this conversation for later?" My mother's voice interrupted our discussion as she entered the room.
"Good morning, Mother," I greeted her, a smile gracing my face.
She walked toward me and planted a tender kiss on my forehead. "Good morning."
"Sebastian, don't forget about your imperial duties," my mother reminded my father with a pointed look. Mentioning his "imperial duties" was her subtle way of signalling, "Can you please leave?" and it was consistently effective.
My father never contested this statement. In the Huntington Household, my mother's diplomacy and reason had a more significant impact on the war's course than my father's unwavering loyalty, honour and skill on the battleground. While the King might have a different view, my father's peers and most of the empire held my mother's perspective in higher regard.
The room fell into silence as my father left. "I'll be home late," he stated before closing the door behind him.
"Can you at least try talking to Father?" I pleaded, turning my attention to my mother.
"You know your father. It'll take more than just talking to convince him otherwise."
A sigh escaped my lips. She was right. In high society, Prince Alexander was often seen as a freeloader, despite his prowess as a rider and swordsman. Many still considered him inferior to his brother, Marcus. But with this newfound lease on life, I had a chance to alter the narrative, didn't I?
"Mother?"
"Yes?"
"Do you believe in second chances?" I asked, my lip nervously caught between my teeth, unsure of her response.
"I do," she replied, taking a sip of her tea.
"What if I told you this was my second life... would you believe me?"
She stared at me for a moment, searching for the right words to respond without suggesting I'd gone mad. Her conflicted body language was evident.
"I don't believe in reincarnation, no," she finally said, breaking the heavy silence between us. "But I do recall your great-grandmother telling me a story about a curse a goddess had placed on her children for defying them. Their punishment was eternal life, where they would experience the same horrific fate for all eternity."
What a grim tale that was, a punishment through eternal life, forced to relive the same fate repeatedly. I pondered this revelation, but I couldn't remember any wrongdoing or sin that would warrant such a curse.
I sat there, lost in thought, contemplating the possibilities. Was there some truth to this notion? What could explain my awakening in a younger version of myself, with memories of my past life intact? There had to be some divine power at play.
"Sophia."
I snapped back to the present, locking eyes with my mother. "Yes?"
"It seems you're seeking answers to your questions."
I nodded enthusiastically, and my mother offered me a warm smile.
"If you're interested in exploring a greater divine spirit, pay a visit to the Temple. The high priest there may have the answers you seek."
With renewed excitement, I leaped from my chair, rushed over, and kissed my mother on the cheek. "Thank you," I whispered, my smile beaming. She responded with a quiet return of the gesture before dismissing me from the room.
As I embarked on my journey to the temple, a sense of anticipation fluttered in my heart. While my mother had stated she didn't believe in reincarnation, her responses hinted that she understood more than she let on. Perhaps she considered my story too fantastical to take seriously and suggested the temple as a way of saying, "Your claims don't make sense, so go pray for guidance."
Nevertheless, there was an eerie feeling that she had heard this narrative before, and it filled me with an inexplicable excitement. It was like I was heading on a grand adventure to save this kingdom from a future I foresaw.
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