This is a "Who Made Me A Princess" Fanfiction
The first time that she died was from a misunderstanding; however, rather than being reincarnated as Lee Jihye, Athanasia de Alger Obelia is brought back in time and reborn as herself.
Her second time, s...
Includes mentions of blood, previous deaths, and family estrangement.
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"Happy Birthday, Athanasia," Claude greeted with a soft smile, and the fourteen-year old turned to watch her father with equally adoring eyes.
It felt like just yesterday when she had cursed him, refused to look into his eyes, the ones that used to be so cold, executioner-like. And yet, as she looked at them now, sapphires to sapphires and oceans to oceans, Athanasia could only think about how clear they were beneath the golden sun.
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Without even meaning to, she giggled, her heart beating with elation, and she placed a flower above his ear, a lotus fully bloomed. It was a symbol of regeneration and rebirth, just like her dad, that broken man, "he broke his own curse and remembered our past."
"Thank you Papa!" As if by habit, Athanasia stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, musing about how thankful she was that he remembered everything. He had struggled so much with this overwhelming guilt, with trying to prove to himself rather than to his daughter that he was worthy of being her dad, but there was nobody else other than Lily, Lucas, and her father that she wanted to have by her side for all of eternity.
If only Claude knew just how grand her image was of him because he could still remember each death, every cold breath that she breathed. He could still remember the blood that tinted her skin, and the hatred that burned within him- he could never blame her again, not for his own sins. After years of reviewing the memories, to the point of seeing them within his dreams, they had settled, buried beneath new memories. Beneath Athanasia's childhood and her bright sapphire eyes, the ones that used to gleam like his childhood, of neglect and disgust- now they were clear with joy and contentment, never hopeful, always just happy with their moments.
From the way that she smiled to the way that she called him again and again, there was never a moment that she wasn't on his mind. Claude laughed internally, in harmony with an echo of her melodic laugh, "what is she if not my anchor to reality, to this life after death?"
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