The youngest grandaughter of the High Priest of Tìrvitae is met with a terrible truth.
Given a revelation by the Holy "World Tree", she suddenly remembers her past life! She realizes that she had been reborn into the world of "Who Made me a Princes...
The morning sun seeped through the window's curtains, filling my room with a soft glow. It wasn't intense, just subtle enough to stir me from sleep, and make my eyes flutter open.
As I became more aware of my surroundings, I sat up.. and immediately felt weird. This wasn't my room.
I looked down at my hands.. These too. They weren't my hands.
I got out of bed, stumbling and almost hitting the floor. The bed was so high up, my head barely reached over it!
This was.. too odd. I felt a strange feeling in my stomach - the kind of dreadful doom of something you've forgotten, sitting right on the tip of your tongue, just waiting for the right moment to reveal itself and frighten you.
For me, that moment was looking at the corner of the room, taking in my own reflenction on a vintage-looking vanity's mirror.
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...And then I remembered.
﹕♡﹕
My name is Hailey Collins. It.. was, Hailey Collins.
I've always been lonely. Envious.. of other people.
While others had families, warm beds and precious memories to comfort them, I had.. almost nothing. I was an orphan, living in the desolate city of Seattle. Sure, it had bright lights, tons of things to do, and plenty of nice places to eat. But that was if you had money.
I had anything but money. And when you don't have money.. you end up on the side of the city that the politicians don't want you to experience.
The lanes of trash piled up, homeless people in communities of tents, drug addicts dancing around the sidewalk as if they owned the place. That was the Seattle I knew.
As you can guess, I always felt ... alone.
When I was twelve, I ran away from my group home. To say the least, it wasn't a nice place.. especially not for children. I refused to live there anymore, so I just .. left. It's not like the police would care to put me back there, anyway.
Through some stroke of luck, I happened upon an old tea shop one day. It was run by the nicest woman I'd ever met.. She was a little old lady, one of those friendly neighborhood Grandmas that always seem to look out for the kids on the block.
She really was.. the nicest person I'd ever met.
She agreed to let me work at the shop - not handling any of the drinks or foods, just keeping track of the books - but my pay would be very small. She wasn't exactly made of money.
