What is this?

The young woman stared at herself in the mirror, astounded by what she saw. Innocent looking eyes stared back, wide and clear, with her red frizzy hair tumbling past her shoulders and down her back. Her skin was lightly freckled, and when she tugged on her own cheek, the skin was soft and smooth.

But… this isn’t me!

Shaken, she put the hand mirror down and curled her arms around herself. What was going on? Where was she? How had she got here? And how come she didn’t recognise herself?

She sat in a luxurious four poster bed, with thin curtains separating her from the room, save one that had been tied back to reveal an ornate bedside table and beyond that, a large paned window. Through it she could see trees shuddering in the wind, and small clouds scudding through an impossibly blue sky. It looked… idyllic, and yet something was very very wrong.

Her memories were jumbled, and it was hard to pick out concrete details, but the young woman was sure that she hadn’t always looked like this. She’d been rough around the edges, with sharp dark eyes and messy hair, and certainly not the type to wear a frilly white nightgown like the one she was dressed in.

Did I get extreme cosmetic surgery for some reason? But why don’t I remember? And this most definitely isn’t a hospital…

Slowly, she swung her legs out of bed and stood up, stumbling a little as she made her way to the window. It was only latched shut, but as she opened it, a gust of wind caught the window frame and sent it flying, slamming against the outside wall. Curtains fluttered, and her hair flew about her face. She spat some out of her mouth and leaned out, still in shock.

Expansive grounds spread out before her, carefully curated paths bordered by flowerbeds and hedges separating the grounds into sections. A lake glittered at the far end of the grounds, where trees grew up against a tall wall.

The young woman looked down. She was three floors up, and what she could see of the building she was in made her think of those fancy old manors, the type a historical drama would be filmed in. Even the few people milling about below were dressed for the part, in typical servant garb. A few of them had glanced up at the sound of the window slamming open, and she hesitantly raised a hand to wave at them.

Immediately, they all either bowed or curtsied, dropping whatever they were holding.

What? This is really weird.

The young woman drew back from the window, unsettled. The cold breeze tugged at her thin nightgown, and she shivered. Could she not have been put in something warmer, instead of this flimsy thing? She could tear it apart with her bare hands.

She examined her thin, fragile looking hands, devoid of scars and calluses. Well, perhaps not these hands.

This couldn’t be cosmetic surgery. It was always getting more advanced, but surely it couldn’t do something like this? It was like she was in a completely different body...

“Hello? Is someone in there?” One of a set of doors was pushed open, and a small face peered in, scanning the room. A girl entered, dressed similarly to those she had seen outside, her expression anxious. When she laid eyes on the young woman, her eyes widened and she let out a shriek. “My lady! You’ve woken up!”

The girl – likely a maid, by her clothes and attitude – flew across the room, reaching out to the woman and grabbing her hands before she had a chance to do anything. “Are you well? Is there anything I can do for you? Can I bring you some water? Something to eat?”

“I…”

“Oh! Did you open the window? My lady, it’s far too cold today for that! You’ll catch a chill, especially when you’ve already been sick for so long.” The maid hurried to the window and closed it, before turning back to the young woman and taking her by the arm. “You should go back to bed, and I’ll fetch you something to eat and drink.”

The young woman let the girl guide her back to bed without resisting, her mind spinning. Why is she addressing me like I’m a princess? Just what is going on? I don’t understand!

She reached out and grabbed the maid’s wrist. “I don’t know what’s going on, what’s happening?”

“Oh, my lady!” The maid looked like she was about to cry, her pale green eyes welling up. “You’ve been unconscious for a week, of course you’re confused! Don’t you remember what happened?”

“For a week…” The young woman frowned. Why wasn’t she in a hospital? Right now, she should be hooked up to machines monitoring her condition, and have an IV drip sustaining her… shouldn’t she? “What happened? What’s going on? Where am I?”

She could feel herself starting to shake.

“My… my lady? This is your room, see?” The maid motioned to the fancy, old-fashioned furniture, her eyebrows raised in confusion. “Oh dear… I’ll call for the doctor as well. Don’t worry, my lady, everything will be alright!”

Before the young woman had a chance to say anything more, the maid was gone in a flurry of skirts. Left in silence, she desperately tried to recall anything that might explain what was going on.

Am I dreaming? No, this is far too real for a dream. An out of body experience? Maybe. Could I have died?

She shivered. She hoped that wasn’t the case. Everything was so confusing. She fell back into the comfortable sheets, burying her head into a pillow. Her hair was in her mouth again, and she spat it out half-heartedly.

She tried to remember exactly what had happened before she’d woken up, but it was all a blur. She couldn’t recall anything clearly. She… what had she done?

An image of a sterile room flashed into her head, devoid of personal belongings and the only distinct feature being a wall full of screens. Alongside it came a stabbing headache, making her audibly groan, but it quickly faded.

What was that?

She tried to recall it again, but the mental image slipped away like sand sifting through her fingers. Something was deeply wrong. Wrong with her.

The door opened again. “My lady! The doctor will be here soon! In the meantime, I’ve brought you some water, and some fruit. Please, eat.”

It was the maid from before, this time carrying a silver platter with a pitcher, glass, and small plate of assorted fruits. She placed it down on the bedside table, and sat on a stool which the woman had not noticed before.

“Thank you,” said the young woman, unsure of what else to do.

“My pleasure,” replied the maid, filling the glass and handing it to her.

She took it and drank, trying to ignore the maid watching her attentively. A few seconds of awkward silence passed before the maid opened her mouth again.

“If you don’t mind me saying, my lady, I’m so happy that you’ve woken up. I was so worried for you.”

Why were you worried about me? I’ve never seen you in my life before. And why do you keep calling me that? You know what, I’ve had enough of this.

“…I have a question. Several questions, actually.”

“Anything, my lady. How can I help?”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘my lady’?” Rolling the empty glass around in her hands, she turned her gaze on the maid, who only looked confused.

“That’s how I’ve always called you,” she responded. “All of the staff call you that way, my lady.”

“But… I don’t know you. And where am I? I don’t recognise this place at all. I don’t know why I look like this, or what’s happening, or how I’m here!”

“My… my lady! I’m Elise, your personal maid – you hired me a year ago? You’re home, you… do you not remember what happened?”

“No, I don’t!”

I don’t understand anything! I’m so confused!

“I don’t even know who I am!”

The maid – Elise – clapped her hands over her mouth. The woman breathed deeply, trembling uncontrollably. The glass fell from her hands and rolled off the bed, where it shattered on the hardwood floor.

“You – my lady, your name is Artemisia. Artemisia Estella von Lindt. Do you remember now?” The maid’s voice was hesitant, her carefully measured tone wobbling towards the end.

“I don’t think… I don’t think that’s my name.”

“My lady, that is your name.” The maid reached out and held the young woman’s hand gently. “You are Artemisia.”

“No, no it’s not! My name is… my name is…”

What is my name?