Regression

The day started off as usual. She woke up in her nightgown. Her maid came in with a basin of water to clean her face and a glass of water to clear her throat. She took time to yawn and stretch as her soul returned to her body, while her maid moved on to open the curtains and prepare her bath. Before long, she found herself in the bathroom, lounging inside a bathtub, washing her body with fragrance soap while her maid was busy preparing her attire.

There was nothing unusual with her attire, just the familiar lady-in-waiting uniform. Blue, long-sleeved formal dress reaching her ankle, adorned with a maroon sash around the waist, paired with white socks and formal black elegant shoes. Once dressed, she sat in front of the vanity, looking at her reflection in the mirror as her maid put on some powder and rouge on her face before brushing and arranging her hair. With a pair of earrings as the last touch, she was ready to start her work for the day.​

It began just like every day. She went to the princess' chamber to let her know the schedule of the day, not without greeting another lady-in-waiting, Nina, who was in charge of the princess' makeup, currently brushing her mistress' hair. She wore a blue dress, too, only in a different design. They had a brief talk once the schedule had been conveyed, chatting and joking like good friends they were until the princess was ready to begin her activity. After that, the three of them went to the dining room to have breakfast together, welcomed by another lady-in-waiting, Sophia, the princess' bodyguard and closest attendant, whose blue dress might look standard for a lady-in-waiting, but only she knew where she stored small weapons behind that appearance.​

They ate a delicious meal together and had some nice chats, a good way to start their usual routines. Some comments about the princess' health improvement brightened their mood after weeks of seemingly unending pain and anxiety, weeks when the princess was bedridden due to a mysterious and unexplainable illness. It went away by itself just like how it came, but as unexplainable and mysterious as the illness was, they were just glad the princess had recovered.​

After breakfast, they went their separate way to attend to their duty. The princess would go to her study to resume the work she had delayed due to her illness. Sophia would accompany her. Nina would go out to do some shopping for the princess' wardrobe, also a job delayed because the princess' palace was isolated due to the mysterious illness, trapping the whole building and the people inside for weeks, barring everyone and everything from going in and out except what was necessary for survival.​

As for her? She, too, would go to her study. As the princess' secretary, she had many letters to take care of.​

There was nothing out of the ordinary when she settled behind her desk, starting her work. There were many letters waiting to be addressed, all sent for the princess, and all had to be read and replied to with care. She opened them one by one, reading and then sorting them based on their content. There were many kinds of letters: engagement offers, political affairs (mainly pertaining to her future plans now that she was no longer the heir to the throne), and invitations to tea parties. It was then that it happened. Something extraordinary. Miraculous, even. All in its quietness.​

The rush. The glimpse. It was only in the blink of an eye. Images, voices, events she had never experienced before, things that had not existed before, suddenly came to her. The future that hadn't happened became something that had happened at the same time. And it was all known to her like a dear old friend, so familiar it nestled inside her head as if it always belonged there.​

(It did. Always did. Always hers.)

​Her memories.​

Not only of the past, but also of the future. The future that has come to be, may come to be, but has yet to happen now.​

She inhaled deeply, paused her breath. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to make sense of what had happened to her.​

She returned to the past. That was the only conclusion she could draw.​

She let go of the breath she had been holding in, looking down at the letter in her trembling hand. The exact same letter. Same sender. Same recipient. Same words. And so were the others. That, she had no doubt.

​And with that conviction, she, too, had no doubt of what would happen if she did not make a change this time. Of what would happen if she gave up again.

​What would happen if her princess, her friend, made the same mistakes. Mistakes that destroyed their kingdom.​

Her descent. The scandal. The collapse. The death penalty.​

Not again.​

She wouldn't allow her. She would stand by her side. Remind her. Restrain her. Whatever it takes. She wouldn't give up on her. Not again.​

The princess would survive, and so would the kingdom. Rosella would make sure of it.