Revenge

Waking up was a shock to me. Consciousness returned slowly, as if I were forcing my way through deep water toward a clearance of open space. I didn't know what awaited me on the surface, yet I desperately tried to emerge. For a long moment I felt completely lost, as if reality was a thin layer of ice that would collapse under my lightest touch. I didn't understand what was happening. Where am I? Who am I? And most importantly: why am I still alive?

I looked around the room, which on the one hand was completely alien to me, and on the other - seemed familiar, as if I knew it inside out. Every detail had something familiar and yet foreign about it. I was lying on a huge royal canopy bed, whose silk curtains flew due to the draught caused by a shutter opened nearby. To the right was a bedside table on which rested a book. It was the same book I had read yesterday, though I couldn't recognize it. It seemed completely different. Foreign. On the one hand, I knew it was one of my favorite reads, full of phrases and quotes that were even known by heart, but on the other hand, I was sure I had never had it in my hand before. I stared at it for a long moment, trying to connect in my mind the fragments of the scenes I had read and the well-known dialogues of the main characters. How did I know them? On the one hand I knew, but on the other - I had absolutely no idea.

There was a heavy silence in the room maced only by the crackle of wood catching up in the fireplace. Further away, in the corner of the room, there was a massive oak door. Even without leaving the bedroom, I knew that behind them was a richly decorated living room. I knew this with almost frightening certainty. I knew perfectly well the layout of the rooms in the entire wing of the castle. I knew that adjacent to the living room was a small, private office filled with books, parchments and maps that I had placed in it over the past years. I knew every corner of the castle where I lived. The problem was that my foot had never set foot in any castle before! Meanwhile, I was sure that these rooms belonged to me, just as I was sure that the castle I had supposedly lived in since I was born did not exist!

I felt fear and uncertainty begin to overwhelm me. My heart began to gallop desperately, and my breathing became shallow. I had never had a panic attack before, but for some reason I knew how to deal with it. I knew my body's reactions and what to do to minimize the effects. Close my eyes, distract myself from chaotic thoughts. But where did this knowledge come from?

I gathered all my willpower to calm myself down. I tried to breathe slowly and steadily. I closed my eyes and counted to four with each inhalation and exhalation. Slowly I felt my pulse slow down and the tension in my body ease. Only after a long while did I get the attack under control, and then, with a calmer mind, I began to wonder what was actually happening. It wasn't easy. Memories and emotions were swirling in my head - some perfectly familiar to me, others completely foreign, yet seemingly always present. Where did this conflict come from? Where was it all coming from?

The last thing I remembered were the arrows piercing my body. Each one caused a burning pain. Javelins that penetrated my wounded flesh with tremendous force plunging into it up to the spars. A real tragedy was unfolding around me. Two groups of men were fighting a fratricidal battle. The ground beneath their feet was soaking up the blood from their many wounds. Neither side wanted to fight, and yet it happened. The reason was simple: I wanted it. My orders were downright banal and left no room for discussion or doubt. I was completely unconcerned that everyone might die. I even wished for it. And then, somewhere in all the battle chaos, I fell alone. The last thing I should remember is my own blood mixing with the mud. On that blood-soaked field, I died.

So why am I here? How is this possible?

Another image popped into my head. At last night's banquet, I sipped wine. I remember the triumphant look of one of my three brothers. His eyes glittered like those of a predator that had just caught its prey. At that sight I felt very insecure, although I tried to hide it from him at the time. Moments later, I felt bad enough that I had to leave the ballroom. I knew I would get in trouble for this - leaving the hall without parental permission was a serious offense. At least in my case. However, I was poisoned. I had to deal with this fact first, and then with the consequences my parents could draw.

Late at night, lying in bed, plagued by high fever and hallucinations, I already knew that I would not face anyone again. There would be no consequences. There would be no me. This end was not easy. No. It was humiliating and very, very painful. Somewhere in between, it even occurred to me that if my family saw me now they would be very pleased with themselves. They would be delighted at what torments I was experiencing.

Feverishly, hallucinations appeared before my eyes, reminiscent of my worst fears. Specters of people I had wronged flashed through the shadows. Scenes from the past that had hurt me deeply played out again and again, as if someone were rewinding a tape blindly. I couldn't hold back the tears and torpor. I walked away without retaining an ounce of courage or dignity.

But, after all, it wasn't me who experienced this! Whose memories were they, then?

For a long time I lay motionless, as if stunned. The sense of disorientation and alienation grew in me with each passing second. The silence surrounding me was disturbing, as if all reality had come to a standstill. There was a smell of old age, dampness and something else in the air - something metallic, as if blood.

Suddenly I was snapped out of my reverie by the quiet creaking of the door. An elderly woman entered the bedroom without knocking. Her face was covered with wrinkles that gave her a stern look, but her eyes shone with intelligence. Seeing me, she froze, and after a moment her face lit up with an expression of disbelief and relief. Her voice trembled as she began to speak, and the words were interspersed with quiet sobs.

- My lady! You are alive! You are alive!

The woman was almost dancing with joy. The sight of her trembling, wrinkled hands, which clenched and relaxed with excitement, caused a strange feeling in me - something between joy and fear. Literally a minute later, the bedroom was filled with even more people. The maids, and even the two butlers, rushed into the room, struggling to hold back tears. Tears were mixed with quiet shouts of disbelief. There were even a few guards whose facial expressions made it clear that they were trying to refrain from showing the emotions flooding through them at all costs. They loudly expressed their disbelief, but above all, one could hear great relief and joy in their emotionally raised words.

I did not understand what was going on, although at the same time I knew who these people were. Every face seemed familiar and yet foreign at the same time. I risked a question, feeling my heart beating faster and faster.

- What was it that happened yesterday? - I asked, trying to make my voice sound confident, although inside I felt only uncertainty.

I was answered by the oldest of the maids, a woman who managed all the servants with strictness and precision. Her gaze was penetrating and her voice full of emotion, although she tried to control it.

- Princess, yesterday we were sure you had died. You came back from that awful ball in a tragic state. All you said was that you had been poisoned. No antidote worked. Your condition... Well, it was a foregone conclusion. You told us to disguise and purify yourself. Destroy all evidence of what happened. Later you ordered us to leave, and we were sure we would never see you again! We heard you screaming. And then there was only silence. Meanwhile, you are alive! You are breathing!

The words echoed in my head. Could this have been true? Did I really come back from the brink of death? No. I was sure the poison had done its job. I had died. There was no gtanica. I was gone. But it wasn't my death! It was not my life. Not my memories. Then whose? What on earth was going on here?

For a long moment, the servants could not contain their emotions. Everyone cried and laughed alternately, as if they couldn't believe what was happening. Only after a few minutes, full of new energy, they quickly returned to their duties having previously made sure a dozen times that what they were seeing was reality. That their beloved princess was alive and well. I, on the other hand, was chased to the dressing table. Without stopping to think about what had happened, I let the maids prepare me for an emotional day.

If I hadn't been so shocked by the chaos of emotions that was gripping me and my confusion over the situation I was in, perhaps I would have noticed sooner that the face that was looking back at me with big blue eyes from the mirror was definitely not my face.