The scent of new lavender and the warmth of the sun on my face awoke me. I gradually opened my eyes and peered up at the strange ceiling. I sat up and took a good look around. My body had an odd, foreign feeling to it. A big mirror was just next to my bed. I gently stood up and turned to face the strange figure in the mirror. She had long, soft-wavy black hair that reached to her waist; snow-white skin; hazel brown eyes with long, thick lashes; and pale red lips. She was dressed in a white nightgown.
The definition of real beauty is the appearance of an angel descending from the heavens. How was it possible that the person in the mirror was reflecting me when I was certain that she wasn't me? I tried to remember everything.
The last thing I can recall is attending a conference in Jerusalem with the other pharmacologists and medical professionals. Then there was an earthquake, followed by total darkness. I realise I've passed away and gasp.
"Is this life after death? But why do I appear this way? Where am I now?"
Something fell to the ground. As I turned around, I noticed a woman in a mediaeval costume behind me who was astounded to see me, as if she had seen a ghost.
"My lady, it's a miracle you are alive," as she gasps.
"'What?'" I replied.
"Let me call her Grace." She ran outside.
I was alone and perplexed by what was going on. When a group of people arrived, I sat carefully on the bed, gathering my thoughts. I hurriedly wrapped myself in my blankets, my eyes wide with confusion.
A lovely lady in her mid-50s with blond hair and elegantly dressed sat next to me. She looked at me and said, "My dear, are you all right?" She hugged me and whispered, "I thought we lost you."
I gently pushed her and asked, "Who are you?" Where the Hell am I? "
Her expression was shocked as she looked around at her companions. "My stepdaughter, you don't remember? It's me, your stepmother," she said concernedly.
"Stepmother?" I replied, "I'm not sure."
She stood up and looked at a tall man next to her who appeared to be much older than anyone else in the room.
"What's going on with my stepdaughter?" she worriedly asked. "
"I'm not sure, your grace," the Oldman said, "but I believe it was the effect of the disease after the lady contracted dysentery and was on her deathbed last night."
What? Dysentery is an infection of the intestines that causes bloody or mucusy diarrhoea. What the hell is he attempting to do? He clearly has no idea what he is saying. As I explained
Everyone was shocked with my explanation "Will she be able to recover?" the lady asked the old man. "Yes, she will. She just needs rest and time to recover. I will examine her later. For now, let her rest."
The woman approached me and gently patted my head, introducing herself as my stepmother. "Go ahead and rest some more; I'll let Emma tend to you and bring you something to eat," she says anxiously as she prepares to leave with the old man and the other handmaid.
"No, I need to get out of here!" I exclaimed. "I don't know any of you, what kind of sick joke is this, and do you know who I am?" I panicked as I stood up.
"My child, Philippa, I am your stepmother, you are sick and needed treatment, I know you are still not feeling well, but I am here to help, you need to calm down," she said as she held my hands.
"No!" I say, whisking my hand, "I am not your child. My name is Kate Mitchell, and I am the owner of Mitchell Pharmaceutical Company, a successful company throughout the United Kingdom, and I will sue you all for kidnapping, so let go of me." They were dumbfounded as I stormed out of the room, looking for a way out. Everything was pitch black, including the hallway, and only torches provided light.
The lady and the others followed me as I frantically searched for an exit, I ran down the hallway and down the stair barefoot. Guards in full armour stood guard at the door, shocked to see me in such a state.
"What's the matter, My Lady?" the guard asked
"Move!" I yelled as I opened the door and was shocked to see that everyone was dressed in Medieval garb and there was no sign of any modern technology, as if I were in a different time, and I began to panic and ask myself, "Where am I?" as they attempted to approach me and everything went in circles, and I felt nauseous until it went black.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
I moaned as I opened my eyes with a headache and found myself back in the unknown room. "Your awake," said a familiar voice, Lady, who introduced herself as my stepmother.
"Don't be afraid child, I will not hurt you." I sat up and looked at her nervously. "You fainted for a whole day and have fever, you must be very confused, the physician already explained to me that you lost your memory due to shock from your illness and you don't need to worry, I will help you, I'll let Emma tend to you and bring you something to eat." she says anxiously as she walks away.
I was left alone and completely baffled by the entire situation. I couldn't say anything because I was in shock and disbelief. I'm not sure if I'm dreaming or waking up, but this is definitely not heaven. I pinched myself to ensure that I wasn't dreaming, but it was clear that I wasn't. I'm thinking about how I ended up here and why I'm here. Emma, a handmaid, then entered, carrying a golden tray of fresh sandwiches and tea.
"My lady, how are you?" she inquired worriedly.
"I'm fine," I replied, "Thank you," as she carefully placed the tray beside me.
"My lady, don't you remember me?" she inquired, as I gently shook my head, "I'm sorry." I didn't. She was crying as she looked at me. "Don't worry, Lady; I'll help you remember," she said as she took my hands in hers. I gave her a friendly smile and thanked her for her concern.
Without hesitation, I asked her questions like my name, the year, and where I was, and I was shocked to learn what situation I was in.
What I had discovered had disappointed me. I completely grasped the situation and realised what I was in. It became clear to me as I spoke with Emma, who owned this body. I was left alone in my room to think after a lengthy discussion with Emma.
I was left alone once more, still fighting with my thoughts. I still can't believe I time travelled and was trapped in another person's body for reasons science cannot explain.
"Hah!" I groaned as I paced back and forth, nervously biting my nails. "I can't be dead! What about my career? my company? What about my life? This is simply unacceptable." I can't stay here !", I screamed in disbelief.
"There must be a way for me to return to my original time. I need to think... right. I am good at this. I am sure I can devise a plan to get out of here."
I sighed, "wait what if I'm truly dead.. dead. Oh gosh."
"Think, Kate...Think...OK...get Let's started with what we've gathered," I said to myself as I sat in bed.
For starters, this body belonged to Lady Philippa of Antioch, the third and youngest child of Constance, Princess of Antioch, and her first husband, Raymond of Poitiers. And I'm in the Middle Ages, in June 1177, when crusades were a thing, not just war but also incurable diseases like dysentery and leprosy that afflicted the entire country of Jerusalem.
According to what I've learned about her, she's a shy, quiet, proper, innocent, and fragile young lady who often does what her stepparents want. "Okay, that's too perfect and I'm sure I can fix that."
"Except for our shared beauty, she and I have nothing in common." She is a very attractive young lady, but due to her poor health and timid nature, she was never given the opportunity to show it off. as I examined myself in the mirror.
Constance, Princess of Antioch? perhaps? Where did I hear that name before? Antioch? Antioch? I'm sure I heard it somewhere. As I attempted to recall a distant memory from my previous life. until I recall something "Crusades? Jerusalem?" Now I remember as I gasp,
Philippa of Antioch, I recall her now; in college, I did a history project on the fallen House of Antioch.
I first heard about her in history class in college. During the Medieval Crusade, she played no significant role. Her only family, from what I recall, did not want her because she was the weakest; her older sister, Maria, was married to a distant land; they were normally close as children, but everything changed when Maria was sent to marry and her connection to her younger sister was severed. Her older brother, Bohemond III of Antioch, was adamantly opposed to her. Constance, Princess of Antioch, died when Philippa was a teenager, leaving her in the care of her stepfather, Raynald of Chatillon, until she reached marriageable age and was married off to an unknown man. And she will fall in love, but all that has been said about her is that her lover used her, turned her into a mistress, mistreated her, abandoned her, and died alone when she was only 28 years old. And because I am now her, it is also my future.
"How much luck can I hope for? I travel back in time to 845 years ago, when modern technology is out of reach and, worse, this girl in whom my soul is trapped is an unfortunate lady." "Oh my God, I'll die again, I thought.
"No, I won't be like her and be miserable; I have to get away!"
"Wait a minute, Phillipa is currently of marriageable age." Emma had specifically stated to me earlier that her stepmother and stepfather, Raynald of Chatillon, were looking for a suitable husband for her to marry before she became ill with dysentery. The real Phillipa, at the age of 17, died alone in this very room just before her lonely death until she was 28.
"No! I need to find a way out of here before they marry me off, but how?" It's difficult to be a lady but be powerless. I groaned as I tossed and turned in my soft bed.
The night flew by and I didn't get a wink of sleep, and I still don't have any plans to escape this era. Every day, I grew more desperate, until I realised that if I runaway, maybe, just maybe, I could return to my timeline.
I attempted to runaway several times, but each time it failed. Emma and my other handmaid were constantly trying to stop me.I almost succeeded in fleeing from my tower's window, but I slipped and amazingly survived for three months with a shattered leg and neck. I came to the realisation that leaving was not the answer.
"I give up! Perhaps leaving is not an option for me, in which case I should look for another way to survive for the time being; I need a plan. God gave me another life, which I will regard as my second." But how should I proceed? My only advantage is that I already know what will happen in the future and have studied history, not to mention that I am an expert in modern drugs against diseases that afflict the country as a pharmacologist. I could help at the very least, but how?
The only option I see for survival is to join the King's royal court, and as a member of the royal court, I will have permission to travel and escape. I will therefore require a reason to meet his royal highness. Ah, the royal dinner is in two weeks, hold on a second. That's it. The royal feast is my passport to escape, so I need to plan a strategy to meet with him.