2

~Avila

My throat is tight as I stare down at the pictures Crimson holds in front of me.

"This was you when you were only a little girl," she breathes, pointing to the centre of the photo. "You were so vivacious, so energetic. Your Kingdom became enamoured by you immediately, predicting that you would be a fair, but responsible Queen one day."

The photo is of me, a young girl wearing a fluffy red dress, standing in a grand courtyard. Pink petals rain down around me.

A cold feeling shudders through me at the absence of any recognition.

"My Kingdom?" I whisper.

Crimson, my mother, rests her hand on my arm. "It is to be yours one day, of course."

The thought is so daunting my vision becomes fuzzy for a moment. How can I rule over a Kingdom I know nothing about?

"Perhaps keep the bigger information for later. We need to be gradual about introducing her to her old life,” Roel says. He sits on the other side of the bed, watching on thoughtfully.

I could kiss this strange old man.

"Of course," Crimson says quickly, smoothing her hair back with a shaky hand before she switches to another picture. "This is you only three years ago. You adore swimming, finding refuge in our many pools almost every morning at dawn."

I blink. Swimming? I vaguely remember the feeling, although it doesn’t sound enticing.

"Okay."

Prior to bringing out the photos, I was able to look into a mirror in hopes it would help me scrape together some memories.

It didn't work.

I don't look how I imagined I would. My hair is stark white and long, slightly messy from being in a casket. My skin is sallow and void of healthy colour and plumpness. Frankly, I look like death.

Crimson looks at me thoughtfully. "Do you have any questions?"

"Do I have a brother...Or a sister?" I ask.

"No, you are an only child," she exclaims with a warm smile. "Which is wonderful, of course. I always wanted a daughter to take my place."

I blink, staring down at the photo of me swimming. This all feels like a nasty trick. I can’t be a Princess…

And what has happened to my memory?

"And I was trained for this, was I?" I ask numbly. "For being Queen?"

Crimson beams at me. "Absolutely."

"And now I know nothing.” I look up at Roel, who appears grim. "How could I be a good Queen?"

I don’t want to be Queen. I may not remember my own name, nor what my life is meant to amount to, but I am certain of one thing: I don’t want to be Queen.

"It's in your blood. All those teachings were just a formality, but you never needed them,” Crimson assures me.

She seems a little frantic, like the idea of me not living up to taking on this predetermined position is unfathomable.

"How did I die?" I whisper.

Roel and Crimson share a tense glance. So much is passed silently between them in a matter of seconds that is based on history I don’t remember. Roel is probably debating whether I can handle it.

"You were gravelly ill. It was all very sudden,” Crimson imparts tightly.

"But I had such an intricate tomb..." If my death was so sudden, why did it look like everything was so well prepared for it?

"The moment you were born your tomb was worked on by worldly artists,” she says quickly, squeezing my sweating hand.

I think of the painted walls, painted casket. It’s creepy, to think about how much intention went into creating a space for death. Being a Royal is strange.

"And how am I alive right now?"

Crimson looks up at Roel, who hesitates before he answers. "We are not sure, exactly."

"It was not dark magic, sweetheart," Crimson attempts to soothe. "This is a miracle, a gift from the Angels. Everyone knows you died before you truly lived out your potential. You're here to finish what you started, of course."

I frown at the mention of dark magic. What is that supposed to mean?

Sighing, I look down at the photos again as Crimson shows me another.

It's me, looking vibrant, other than the sour look on my face. My dress is a beautiful emerald green, matching Crimson's. We stand in the entrance of what must be this home, clutching each others hands as we look at two men facing us.

The older man of the two wears a large crown adorned with fat jewels that are impressive, even in this photograph. The other wears a smaller, silver crown atop their deep brown, almost black hair.

"What's that photo?" I ask curiously.

"Oh, this is my favourite," Crimson says. "It's you at your engagement party."

The world seems to shudder to a stop, my entire attention zeroing in on the photo.

"I'm engaged?" I whisper.

I better not be engaged to that older man...

"Yes, of course." Crimson points to the younger man. "This is Vade, a Prince from Territory Five. You two were engaged the moment you were born. His father is great friends with yours."

Nasuea twists in my stomach.

I'm engaged to a man I don't remember. I can only see part of his face in the photo, but he seems handsome. He's tall and slender, with a perfectly curved nose and refined cheekbones.

" A prince....and my father, where is he?" I ask.

"On business, but he is hastily returning," she says quickly. A little too quickly.

I shove the thought of a potentially strained family dynamic to the side, concentrating on the earth splintering news that there is a man out there I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

"I'm engaged," I whisper.

The photo's are suddenly plucked from my hand.

"Maybe we should give Avila some more time to rest, your Majesty. This is a lot to take in," Roel says tightly.

My head aches but my body buzzes with energy.

"I don't want to be in bed anymore," I tell them. I'm not dead...anymore.

"There are still a few more vitals to check before I can give you clearance." Roel backs away, his old cane shuddering slightly under his weight.

I huff out a breath. Healers have been fluttering all around me since I sat in this bed. I'm tired of them pulling at my skin, poking me with various instruments.

Crimson mercifully excuses herself, claiming to go chase by the head nurse.

"What am I meant to do now?" I ask. "I don't know that women, I don't know the girl in those photos. I'm lost."

Roel sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Leaving it just as productive as staying here," he tells me, his voice soothing. "You're safe here, with people who you may not remember, but remember you. We are the only ones who can help you."

I swallow thickly. Those photo's prove they know me, that I had a life before waking in that tomb.

"I'm engaged." I still can't believe it.

"Vade is perhaps the kindest Prince I have ever come across. Your relationship was...interesting, but I always had a suspicion that he truly adored you," Roel tells me.

I fiddle with the edge of the sheet, my head swimming.

"Will he now?"

"I believe so."

What if he can't stand me now? What if he has moved on since I died, and now will resent me for being engaged to him?

What if he is a horrible person?

"I want to meet him. Who could know me better than my partner?" I say. Meeting him sounds terrifying, but it must be done eventually.

"You two weren't close, however, he is on his way," Roel assures me. My heart skips a beat. "He returned back to his Territory after you passed."

"How did I know you?" He doesn't seem related to me like everyone else who has been mentioned, and he definitely isn't marrying me.

He smiles. "My office is full of books I collected. You spent a lot of time sneaking them from me."

I massage my temples. It feels as though my brain is swelling as it tries to comprehend what I've learnt.

"I have a headache," I mutter, sinking into the pillow.

Roel stands. "Rest now. I will wake you when your Prince arrives."

He closes the door behind him. I sit for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The Prince...my fiancé.

I just hope whoever he is, he has some answers for me.