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I wake to sunlight beaming in on my face, fresh blooms outside my windows, and a ladys maid sitting aside a platter full of fruits and homemade breads. There is no sound but that of workers on the grounds and my maids feet clicking against my bedroom floor. She has been silently taking care of me since I first awoke. Its annoying, as if Im missing something I cant recall needing. I should be grateful. My bedroom is beautiful. Im a princess with all the love in the world at my feet. My closet is filled with dresses of every color. Handmade shoes sit perfectly on their own private shelf, accompanied by troves of jewelry, handbags, and ornate personal items I wouldnt have considered needing if I didnt already have them. This is all new to me.

I wasnt allowed out of bed yesterday after recovering from an illness. A terrible illness that nearly killed me, or so I am told. An illness that managed to imprison any memories I had beyond a few days ago. I have no possessions that mean anything to me. I woke to a man smiling at me with great respect as he discussed my rehabilitation with a doctor. I feel as though my soul has been locked away in darkness for years, and suddenly, a bright light has been cast upon it. Nothing makes sense. Where do I begin? How do I move forward when everything I touch is foreign to me? My Loves arms should comfort me, but they are lacking in ways I cant explain. His kiss is tender, but his touch gives me chills. His words are encouraging, but they hold no recognizable truth. I dont know him. I dont know anything of my life. My name is Mira, but even that sounds wrong. Samael, my fiancé, believes my memories are gone forever, but he promises to give me a whole new world to make new ones. I cant debate his optimism. I am unable to debate anything. If stealing my recollection of the life I once knew wasnt enough, Ive also been robbed of my voice.

Emotions and words fill my head, but I have no understanding of how to speak them. I wander the palace day and night, searching. For what, I do not know. A memory? A person? Me? Maybe its just that I am missing the beginning of the story. My story. Questions need to be answered, and the first one how did I get here?

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Filtros

Jennifer Loren