Maria gasps, jolting up with a start, heaving and gasping for air as she feels sweat drop down her temples. Maria looks around, her wide, blaring gold eyes unfocused as she scans the room, realizing oddly enough that she isn't laying dead on the throne room's floor near Cassian's feet, but in her old room, where it all began. So many memories--many she often wishes to forget, however, plastered themselves around her like oil paintings, and all she wishes more than anything are to scrub the paint off and burn the paper sheets to shreds.
"Fuck...!" Maria mumbles, feeling herself try to swallow as saliva threatens to stick in her thin throat. Maria coughs, holding her neck as she squints her eyes, her golden hues landing on a mirror casted not too far away.
Maria stares at the mirror and gulps, slowly pulling the blankets from her lap and staggering to the mirror. Maria swallows, closes her eyes and slowly opens them, waiting to see the same long sword stuck in her body, but all she sees is her much younger self--a few years younger, in fact, because her face is fully in tact, not covered in burns and wounds worth no suitors wanting her, yet instead youthful and hopeful, as her cheeks are plump and her eyes sparkle in child-like innocence. Her body is much more vulptious and healthy as well, not covered in bruises and skin and bones, almost stavrved to death by abuse and depression. Even her long, golden hair, which was cut too unevenly and chopped, is drawn down her back in waves, like watering curtains, something that she hasn't really cared for until now.
Maria doesn't know which version of herself is a dream--the one where she dies, betrayed by her brother and family, or this version, who is the version of self before the moment she died by the hands of a long sword, the one she gifted Cassian.
Maria swallows, shakily holding her face, before she drops to her knees, feeling her body give out as she stares at her younger, beautiful and refined self in the mirror, which becomes a sudden odd self-reflection of her current self, or her once current self. God, this is confusing.
The door to her bedroom burst open. It's her maid, Petra. She is around the same age as Maria, however, there were never really close. They had a mutal respect for each other that made serving and being the master less overwhelming, but nothing much to brag home about. Honestly, besides her name, Maria didn't even know Petra as a person, too busy attempting to solidify formalities with a group of royal who never cared for her, yet Petra, from both duty and moral, always has.
Maria hangs her head, her hands falling limp at her side as she hears Petra fall to her knees beside her, worriedly gripping her shoulders as Maria shakily eyes the floor.
"Y-Your Highness...?!" Petra asked, her silver eyes wide and filled with concern. Yet Maria, as much as she appreciates it, can barely register it, as she feels her eyes fill with tears. Maria, however, doesn't lift her trembling fingers to wipe them nor hide away as she use to, but she lets them fall down her plump cheeks in reservation and bliss.
Maria Hatte Valois has been given a second chance to live, which means she has a second chance to live her life the way she chooses to. Not through the wishes and desires of her father, nor step-mother, nor anyone, but Maria Hatte Valois herself.
Maria lifts up her eyes, her golden big hues stares back at her in the mirror with determination and rage.
Maria won't mess up this time, because she wants everything she lost back, and ten fucking fold!
...
"Ah...so he wants me to join dinner tonight?" Maria asked, lazily sitting on the ends of her bed, staring up at Petra with bored eyes as even her usual emotionless face is shook with nervousness.
"Yes, Princess." Petra said, avoiding any and all eye contact, not that Maria could blame her. Fuck, she'd do the same if she could, but she needed answers to figure out what she needs to do next.
"In his message, did he say for what?" Maria asked, raising an eyebrow. "That'd be fairly helpful..."
Petra opens her mouth, but then she squints her eyes and settles to clear her throat, as though she thought of her response and decided against it.
"No." Is what Petra settles for, causing Maria to raise an eyebrow, but leave it at that.
"Well, no surprise there..." Maria mumbles, noticing the subtle raise of Petra's eyebrows, as if she is taken aback that Maria said something negative about her family--yeah, yeah, screw them anyway. "It'd be helpful if I knew..."
Of course, it'd be helpful because Maria doesn't eat meals very often with her family. The king is absent and void of any interest in anyone who isn't either his son or worthy of his attention, his concubine who is now his new queen hates Maria's guts and lowly requested not to be hosted in the same room, Cassian always attempts to play fake nice if he has to, at least, but Antoinette alway seems to passive aggressively shoot darts at Maria and insult her every chance she gets--meals were far too tiring for Maria to deal with, so she would often eat in her room alone or skip meals to learn more studies to teach Cassian, or to clean Antoinette's jewels to make sure their polished to wear again if the maid's were too busy. Maria would vow to take care of her siblings and make sure they knew they were loved by her, which ironically also showed how much they didn't love her back.
Maria scoffs, rolling her eyes, noting that if she figured out either the topic of conversation for dinner or today's date, she can assess where in her timeline she currently is living through, and what major event will happen next. The topic of dinner seems to be helpless, so option two sounds more durable.
"Petra," Maria softly says, her eyes distant, but her resolve strong as she speaks. "What day is it?"
"It's 84 Martius, your Highness." Petra said, quietly gazing at Maria, who is staring at her with wide eyes.
"8-84? Martius...? No, that cannot be-ah-of course, year, Petra?" Maria asked. "What year is it?"
"It is 480, you Highness." Petra said.
"Ah...that makes more sense." Maria said. She first keeps her golden eyes on the floor, her vision hazy, caused by the intense feelings roaming in her, but then she snorts, letting out the nastiest, loudest laugh soon after, feeling it tumble throughout her ribcage and leave her throat like a wild animal. Maria doesn't comment on Petra's wide, terrified expression, because she does not care, too absorbed in the emotions filling her body, causing her to relapse.
"Again, Petra." Maria said.
"Again what?" Petra asked.
"Tell me again." Maria said, slapping a hand on her eyes as she cackles. "The date, Petra."
"84 Martius 480 CEOE, Your Highness." Petra said.
"Again." Maria commands.
"84 Martius 480 CEOE." Petra flatly said.
"One more time, Petra." Maria said.
"84 Martius 480 CEOE." Petra said, finally sparing Maria a wary glance, but Petra stills, her dark eyes widen in mixed emotions as she watches her princess--Maria Hattie Valois, smile ear to ear--as though she has become a madden woman--drawing her small hands into fist as her gold eyes light ablaze.
"Whoever it was...whatever it is...gave me three fuckingyears." Maria laughs, grinning at herself in the large mirror. "I'll take everything fucking back, and it starts today--at that cursed dinner!"