When I woke up again, all I saw was white. Clean white bedsheets, the white marbled floor was scrubbed clean, and a pristine white nightgown hung loose on my body. I felt cleansed, as if I was reborn. All the pain I sustained before had disappeared, as if it had never existed, and the open wounds and scratches on my body were reduced to simply minor scarring.

There was no one in the room, and I was completely alone. My throat felt parched too, but I found no water in the room. There were no maids too, and Edmund was nowhere to be found. I decided to go outside, and as my feet touched the ground, I felt oddly energetic, and there was a spring in every step that I took. I pushed the door open and walked down the empty hallway until I reached the main staircase, and I saw Edmund standing at the landing in between those flight of stairs.

         “Husband!” I called out as I ran down the stairs and towards him, and his eyes widened as he rushed towards me, pulling me close to him and shielding my view.

         “You shouldn’t be here, Annie,” he said in an anxious tone while attempting to pull me back up the stairs, but I did not relent. 

          “Why shouldn’t I?” I protested, but then I heard it. An awful screech echoing down the hall, as if someone were being boiled alive. The voice screamed for help, and rapid footsteps followed after the source of the noise, but it did not stop. She screamed and shouted for what felt like forever, and not much later, a sickly-sweet smell began to float in the air. It smelled like beef, like the roasted game we usually had after Father returned from hunting, but it was quite different. With a single whiff, dread pooled in the pit of my stomach, and I felt bile rising up to my throat.

          “What is that smell, Edmund?” I asked my husband, who shook his head sympathetically, and continued to pull me up the stairs, but I refused to let him. “Tell me, Edmund!”

He did not have time to answer though, as not long after, I heard the footsteps approach the ballroom right below us, and the stench grew even stronger. The scream was so loud that my ears were ringing, and I felt my stomach turn. There, I saw it.

A woman barely twenty, with tightly plaited wheat coloured hair and wearing a plain brown dress, running around in the ballroom. Only that she was lit on fire, and her face was melting off horrifically, dripping onto the marble flooring. The hairs on her hands were singed, and then they began to melt off too, revealing her bloody red flesh. 

In a split second later, my vision turned to black as Edmund covered my eyes, and this time I did not fight back, allowing him to take me back to the room. Once we were inside, he removed his hands, allowing me to see again. 

I was stunned by what I had just witnessed, and I had nothing left to say. Edmund too, did not say a thing. In our sleeping quarters, it smelled strongly of lavenders from Bulgaria and Turkish roses, but the sickly-sweet stench was stuck in my nose and thoughts. I retched, and the sour taste of bile rose up in my throat, warm and bitter.                                                                          

        “Will she die, Edmund?” I finally uttered while sitting down on the bed, and I felt the soft fluffy surface curven underneath me, but it brought no comfort to me at all. My chest felt hollow, as if it were filled with nothing but the smoke from the fire that burned that woman alive.

       “The other servants are trying to put it out, so she’ll probably be fine, Annie. You mustn’t worry—think about yourself first,” he told me. I turned around and glanced at the mirror, and I gasped upon seeing my own reflection. I was pale and haggard, with sunken eyes and cracked, dry lips. My dark brown hair was messy and unkempt, and my periwinkle blue eyes had lost its glow.

      “Now that you’ve awakened, you should eat something to fill up your stomach. Is there something that you’d like to eat?” Edmund asked me. I shook my head, as I had completely lost my appetite after seeing that woman’s melting face. “I’m not hungry, husband,” I told him truthfully. 

Edmund nodded as he sat down on the bed next to me. “I will not force you, then. But you must have something later. You’ve been asleep for so long.”

His fingers traced my chin softly, and tenderness flashed in the mossy green depths of his eyes, but unease began to stir inside my stomach. Something was not right, I could tell. When I was asleep earlier, I felt as if I had entered another realm, a blank void full of darkness, a place only I existed in. I had felt cold, bony fingers brush against my skin, as if I had been kissed by Death itself. It was as if my life force had been drained out with each drop of blood that I lost, as if my unborn child was trying to drag me to the netherworld along with it.

Everything felt wrong. I should not be here. 

        “Annie? Are you alright?” I heard Edmund call, and I could only smile weakly at him. His body felt warm against mine, but my own skin was cold. My lips, which were usually red, are now pale and cracked. It was not right.

       “Did you go and save your mother?” I asked him, and he nodded enthusiastically at my question, as if he were eager to please me. “That is good. You must’ve missed her very much, didn’t you?”

        “I found the Elheim Castle that you mentioned earlier, Annie. My mother was there all this time, only a few miles away from here. I wouldn’t have found her without your help, and I will be forever indebted to you for that,” he said to me. Adoration flashed in his eyes as he spoke about his mother, but instead of feeling happy for him, the hollow feeling in my chest intensified. My own mother did not care for me at all.
She refused to play a part in my wedding, and she actively scolded me for not surrendering my own betrothed to her favourite daughter, so that she could be happy. Not me. I doubt that there is even a single shred of affection for me in her heart. I doubt she even knew that I had already died before this, frozen solid under several feet of snow.

I have heard about the myth of a mother’s instinct countless times. People say that a mother would instantly sense it when her own child is in danger, but I already died once, and almost died again, but my mother seems to be living her life blissfully. People say that a mother would love her child, no matter how bad they are, and since my mother does hate me, does that mean that I am immeasurably terrible?

         “I am happy for your family, husband. Claudie must be pleased to find out about this too,” I lied.

         “Yes, I already sent out for her. She should reach here in a few days' time.”

All of a sudden, the door to our bedroom swung open without warning, and a red-haired woman strode inside. I had seen her before, but now I could finally see her properly in full lighting. Those scarlet curls fell down to her waist, and her leaf green eyes glinted brightly. She was ethereally beautiful, and now I knew where Edmund and Claudie inherited their good looks from.

She froze mid-step upon seeing me, but her shock soon melted into a warm smile, and she rushed towards me, pulling me into a tender embrace. “I’m so glad to see you wake up, Anne. But you shouldn’t walk around like this. Go and get some rest,” she said to me.

She led me back to the bed and tucked me in gently, piling the heavy blankets on top of me. “Rest some more while I get you some soup. You must eat—no excuses.”

She exited the room, and shortly after, Edmund came up to me with an envelope in hand. The red wax bore the Winterbourne crest, so I knew that it was from home.

      "Who sent that, husband?" I asked him, and Edmund flipped the envelope over, and said, "It's from Cecily."

I frowned and beckoned him to give it to me, and I hastily broke the wax seal so that I could read the letter's contents.

My Lady Anne,

I received news from my father several days ago. He asked me to return home, to take my brother's place as the heir. He says that Gregory is unwell, that he is not right in the head. But to do so, I would have to renounce my marriage, and it would also hinder my cousin's attempt to claim the throne. However, it is also important to note that my mother-in-law, your Lady Mother, despises me with every fiber of her being. She taunts me and humiliates me on a daily basis, especially when both the Earl and my husband are not home. I cannot bear to continue living like this, but I am unwilling to return to my father. Please, my lady, do tell me what to do. I am at wit's end.

Yours truly,

Cecily de Chauvelot

I set the letter down on my lap and let out a heavy sigh. I knew that my mother would put her through hell now that I no longer lived there, and Gilbert and my father would not be there to defend her all the time. However, the matter of the King intending to make Cecily his heir did concern me. Not only would Edmund's efforts be all for naught, my family might also be implicated in the process.

      "It is a bit odd, don't you think? Why must the King appoint Cecily as his heir? I thought that he was against female heirs," I frowned.

      "He has no choice, Annie. Prince Gregory is found to be mentally imbalanced, much to the Queen's sorrow, and the King..."

Edmund paused, and discomfort washed all over his face and the dip between his brows deepened considerably. "The physicians have said that he caught a disease from one of those Lecarrian sex slaves he took in, and he will be unable to reproduce anymore."

I looked at Edmund with shock, and in a moment later, my lips curled into a smile of amusement. "Life is truly mysterious," I remarked. "Now, a lecher must live like an eunuch! How tragic !"

The thought of that useless, spineless king succumbing to the illness amused me, and to me, the sooner he dies, the better.

    "The Queen's family is still trying to push Prince Gregory forward as the rightful heir, and with a drooling infant with an enlarged tongue to inherit our kingdom, I think Phoenicia will become very prosperous soon," Edmund said sarcastically.  "But all things aside, your father has yet to speak up regarding this matter. It will be incredibly hard too, with you at one side, and Cecily at the other."

   The mention of my father immediately brought warmth to my heart, and I was reminded of the strong, intelligent man who raised me up. In my mind, my father was more powerful and regal than any king, and even after Edmund becomes king, I will still look up to my father more than him. 

      "He will settle this issue," I said confidently. "My father always does."

      "Don't be too confident, Annie. The Earl of Rhyland is a wickedly smart man, but he is still Edward's subject. If Edward decides to punish him, no one can save him. Anything that the king says becomes the truth. You must remember that."

I did not want to accept what he just said, but I cannot deny the truth. Indeed, my father is still a mere subject, and not even he can implicate the royal family.

   "Then, what shall be our next move? More precisely, what should I tell Cecily?" I questioned.

Edmund sat down next to me and picked up Cecily's letter, staring at it thoughtfully. After a few seconds, he folded up the parchment gently and set it aside. "She shall make her own decision, Annie. If her loyalty lies with me and House Winterbourne, she shall reject the crown. If she accepts it, then what can I say? She is her father's daughter."

Yes, Princess Cecily de Chauvelot, daughter of King Edward, the man who assasinated his brother in order to claim the throne for himself. One would expect that she would grow up to become a selfish, entitled little brat, but she was not like that at all. Cecily was the sweetest person I ever knew, and I doubt that she will betray her cousin, the only family member who has not shunned her before.

        "If you say so," I murmured. "Let her decide it herself."

Hi! If you liked this story, try checking out my other story, which is set in the early 1700s, Catarina and The Prince ! And please vote and comment, it means a lot to me 🥰