When Athanasia opens her eyes to the Ruby Palace, sitting at her vanity, she jolts in place. Almost tipping off her chair as Lilian startles behind her, having been brushing her hair. "Your highness?"
Athanasia leans forward to the mirror, that gold-edged mirror that she had sat in front of too many times to count, and nervously touches the strands of hair that frame the face she had once thought of as shameful to the Imperial family.
She was young again.
She feels sorry for Lilian as she frets behind her, but for now, Athanasia tunes out her worried words and wipes the blood off the corner of her lip with a swipe of her tongue. Having bitten her lip in the shock of landing back in time.
As always, her golden blood tasted of nothing but iron, it was still blood, and the color of it would not change the foundation of what she still was. Human.
She turns to soothe Lilian's jumpy hands and sits down at the vanity once more, preoccupied, as Lilian starts to brush her hair again.
The hair that had not been given the proper treatment over years gone by, unlike Jennette whose straight brunette hair shone under the sunlight.
Athanasia worried the inside of her cheek with her teeth, biting down gently as she stared- almost through the reflective surface of the mirror as she flicked those gem eyes back and forth.
Those gem eyes that hadn't given her the time of day with her father like Jennette did. All because of who her mother was- a lowly Sidonnan dancer who had once been something to him- but now just a no one to him due to his magic's passing over the decade.
She strokes the slight darkness under her eyes as her other hand's fingers pick at the peeling paint of the vanity. Its once splendid pearly white and rose pink, now faded with age, and the gold decorations having long been stolen from her when she was but a child who didn't know any better.
Gentle hands pull back her hair into the familiar ponytail and Athanasia lets Lily do so, knowing that even if she changed overnight with an entirely new look, nothing would change for her.
Her hair that had not gotten treatment through conditioning would be dry and a brittle, dull blonde.
Her eyes that were gems would not shine with the youth she had recovered, not with those dark circles that hung heavy under them.
For now, the only redeemable quality of her that would be looked upon with favor would be her figure- one that was hidden during her debutante with an ill-fitting light blue hue.
Her lips draw an amused look in the mirror, unused to smiling, and the strain of the unfamiliarity of using such muscles in her face, made her draw them down as quick as they had gone up.
It was too bad she never had the chance to show off her appeal to anyone but Lilian. What a waste of good looks.
The dull pink dress she wore had a single dark ribbon as an accessory, none of the jewels that other noble ladies or princesses wore ever made it to the Ruby Palace.
Athanasia had one single thing to thank her father for. It was that he had given her his imperial blood. With it, she had already won at life's game.
She was more powerful than those who possessed mana, and she had the very specific Imperial strength that had only gotten stronger throughout the centuries.
Athanasia stared at her reflection, at how similar she looked to her mother.
Her mother who had spent the last years of her life, trapped in a palace where other concubines were, with a man she loved residing elsewhere because he had forced her to choose between her and himself, and she had endured it all- to give birth to her.
Athanasia blinks slowly, feeling the ribbon in her hair move with the swaying of her head as she stands up from the vanity.
Stepping into the shoes that Lilian lays out for her, she stands- a little taller than before- and straightens her back into the posture she had grown up learning- beating it into herself so she would never forget such etiquette.
What princess would remain in an empire that searched for faults instead of praise? What kind of princess would hope for love when they had lived in a palace meant for concubines instead of royal princesses of their family?
She had been that kind of princess, once upon a time. But no longer would she stay an unloved princess, wasting away in the darkness that meant to keep her quiet until her death.
She was done with those flightless, useless thoughts of earning love from her father- her only surviving family member, of a family that could have been but never was. If he would not look her way, neither would she.
In the slight chance there was that he would receive her as his heir, his only daughter, she would welcome it, but it was almost certain he never would.
She stored away those memories of fleeting happiness.
Why waste any more time with doing something that was doomed from the very beginning? Becoming blasé to the entire thing was self-evident, having been through it more than she could count, why bother?
Why should she remain a princess in an empire that had been against her birth since the very beginning this had all begun?
She had been fatalistic, relying on the world to revolve around her- and now? She would make the world do her bidding instead.
Don't let bygones be bygones. Take what is yours.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
