Always the shadow, the reject but never Athanasia de Alger Obelia
"Non sum filia, soror aut principissa cuiquam."
In the tender years of her youth, a mere child of nine sought naught but the gentle caress of warmth, yet found herself adrift in the i...
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The dungeon looms oppressively, its cold stone walls closing in, suffocating hope. Dampness seeps into weary bones, while faint echoes mock the solitude. Each hour stretches into eternity, a relentless reminder of captivity's cruel embrace.
I hate it.
Was I so unlovable that my flesh and blood did not hesitate for my execution?
How is it that Jennette effortlessly claimed all I coveted without lifting a hand? The moment she entered the palace, adoration and acclaim showered upon her.
What sets Jennette de Alger Obelia apart from Athanasia de Alger Obelia? We both entered this world as illegitimate offspring, albeit from different circumstances-my mother a mere concubine, hers lacking even a title in the harem. My intellect far surpassed hers, yet it remained unnoticed. Was it that she was of noble bloodline and my mother was a commoner?
A bitter chuckle escapes my lips as I confront the stark truth of my existence, eighteen years of futile striving laid bare before me. The misguided notion that my worthiness would unlock familial recognition now crumbles in the face of stark reality. In their eyes, my efforts are meaningless.
As the guard led me towards the execution platform, a wave of resignation washed over me, prompting the instinct to shut my eyes tightly. I had convinced myself that I could face this ordeal with stoicism, but as reality closed in, I found myself faltering. Even in the darkness behind closed lids, the deafening roar of the crowd pierced through, a cacophony of cheers celebrating my impending demise.
A taut noose constricted around my neck, its grim embrace a harbinger of imminent demise. With each passing moment, time seemed to accelerate, the thin thread of life slipping through my grasp as my breath grew increasingly labored. As the specter of death loomed ever closer, I summoned the courage to pry open my eyes, seeking solace in the faces of my father and brothers. Yet, the gaze I encountered offered no hint of pity or remorse, only a chilling void of indifference.
I smiled bitterly and looked directly at them.
It was finally over.
I was no longer Athanasia de Alger Obelia.
I am free.
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