The Kingdom of Belmar

Chapter 2

The blaring of the horn, the blinding bright lights, the screams of passersby, and yet the only thing I could hear was the slowing of my own heart beat. I felt suspended, like I didn't die, but somewhat elevated. Of course I did die, that's a given, but the darkness surrounding me felt like a comforting embrace; warm yet empty. Thoughts play through my mind, but none of them fully formed and coherent. Is this what death feels like? Is it like flying yet falling? Or am I not dead yet? I hope my parents don't grieve too much, I don't want to bring them any pain. If I am disappointed by how my life turned out, I guess my only regret is not finding out how I did on that math test.

"Lady Amalie! Young Miss!"

The light breaks between my eyelids as hysterics erupt around me. At least five different voices are exclaiming some iteration of a tearful prayer, the noise echoing through my head.

My vision, still blurry, dodges from hidden face to hidden face as the picture becomes more clear. A beautifully draped canopy greets me as I wake and discover the source of the ruckus. Maids, about six of them, staring at me with panicked yet relieved looks on their faces.

I thought I died?

Some break down crying, others fervently throw themselves in my direction. "Lady Amalie!" an older one exclaims as she pulls me into her arms, "We were so worried. The accident was three days ago and you had yet to wake. The Duke and Duchess were starting to lose hope, and for a minute there, so was I." She turns to one of the younger maids. "Quick, go inform the Master of the pleasant news!"

I sit up, pushing aside sobbing servants and glance around the unfamiliar room. It's large and spacious, maybe ten times the size of my dorm room back in the university. The walls are painted a dull beige decorated with beautifully woven tapestries, and the room is filled with elaborate, expensive, european furnishings. My head spins in confusion, trying to piece together the events from the last few minutes.

I thought I died!

As my head jerks around, taking in the luxuries surrounding me, a lock of bright red hair falls in front of my face, wound into a tight and delicate curl. The ringlet settles as I wonder what happened to my straight blonde hair. A glance in front of me answers a question and yet creates so many more. In the lavishly crafted golden framed mirror, I see a pair of green eyes staring back at me, eyes that don't belong to me. The girl in the reflection is gorgeous, not a single imperfection on her person.

And she isn't me.

Maybe I was having a dream, maybe the whole last day was playing in my sleep. Maybe I didn't die, and I had just been reading too many novels again. I pinch the skin on the back of my hand, hard enough to make me wince in pain, but I don't wake up.

The older maid's attention is back on me, "Lady Amalie! What are you doing?" She separates my hands, rubbing the area I pinched with her thumb. Her hands are warm, like a mother's.

"What did you call me?" I ask, in a voice I've never heard before.

"Pardon?" Her eyes scan my face intensely, maybe as confused as I am. "Lady Amalie, do you feel alright?"

"Lady Amalie?" I look at her blankly, the situation not quite registering. Amalie. I feel as though I've read that name countless times, yet it seems so unfamiliar, so unfitting. "What's my name?"

The maid looks back at me, saddened and yet patient. "Lady Amalie Marinette von Ewell III. You are the third child and only daughter of Duke Ewell. Your father owns this ducal estate. I have been your maid since your birth, my name is Mary. Do you recall this Miss?"

Lady Amalie von Ewell, one of the villains from the Kingdom of Belmar. Is that...me?

"From the Kingdom of Belmar?" I ask, my voice gentle yet wavering, still adjusting to the body that clearly isn't mine. Mary, the maid, nods as tears well up in her eyes, flooding with hope and relief. Have I become one of my least favorite characters? The fiery curl of hair hanging in front of my eyes – befitting of the villainess's temper – frames a face that's never been told no. The Duke's daughter that was executed alongside the Queen at the end of the novel. She's spoiled, manipulative, deceitful, immature, gorgeous, and...me.

I reach up to touch my face, curious about whether this stranger's skin is as smooth as it seems, when the door bursts open and two frantic pairs of eyes search my face.

A man, large, handsome, and decorated, stares at me in concern, and then joy. Behind him follows a lady, the height of her hair almost hitting the door frame, picking up her dress as she makes her way to my bedside. They're both as attractive as the face staring back at me in the mirror, and Lady Amalie is their perfect blend.

The Duke and Duchess, I presume, almost burst into tears as they push aside Mary, grabbing each of my hands and staring at me with such an intensity it makes me blush.

"Amy," the Duke breathes. "I thought we lost you. I–I..." he shakes his head, unable to find the words. "Your brothers started their way back to Belmar the minute I relayed the news to them, but unfortunately the northern region was too far for them to arrive on time. They'll be here to greet their beloved sister tomorrow.

If I am Amalie – which I guess I am in this strange dream – then it would probably be safer to play the part than to have the intimidatingly powerful Duke Ewell question me. In the novel, the Duke went to war and tore apart a country just because its Crown Prince refused to dance with his daughter.

I've never seen such a daddy's girl.

"Father," I manage with the sweetest tone I could muster, "What exactly happened?"

He squeezes my hand harder, his beautiful face scanning my own. "You were riding through the forest of Calliopia, when your horse, lord knows why, became alarmed."

"It went ballistic," the Duchess interjected, "It whinnied so loud that even the stable boys were able to hear you. When we arrived to your location, the horse had run off and you were on the ground. Unconscious. It's been three days since you've last woken."

I nod along thoughtfully, but this story sounds too familiar. In the original novel, after this event, the Queen, the villain, visits the Ewell estate the next day and offers her condolences for my condition. After the formal greetings and a few clearly indifferent questions about how Amalie was feeling, she brings up a proposition. She offers the hand of her step child, Crown Prince Cole, to Lady Amalie. In the novel she enthusiastically accepts, and carries out the Queen's every whim, leading to her inevitable execution.

But that's ridiculous. I'll surely wake up from this dream before then.

Right?

I turn back to the Duke, my eyes widening in innocence, and speak like the noble lady I was supposedly raised to be. "Father, mother, I apologize for any worry I might have caused you. It was unconsciously done. As you are aware, I can ride better than any lady in the Kingdom. Would it be alright if I could just be alone for the day? I need to collect my thoughts."

The Duke and Duchess look at each other, exchange a sigh, and nod at their daughter with faded smiles. The Duke looks tired, his hair a mess, and the Duchess's face is bloated, evident that she's been crying. For being the parents of one of the most spoiled children I've ever read about, it's clear how much they cared for Amalie. I can just imagine their reactions if I ever told them that I wasn't their daughter.

I feel sorry for them.

The two order the maids to leave, and in a second, my room is empty enough for my thoughts to fill the space.