Most children don't remember their first couple of years on earth- don't remember much of anything before they turn five or six years old, in fact.

I am not 'most children'.

My name is Princess Helena Artemis of the Royal House of Accidia and I can remember every moment that has passed since my birth. Okay, so maybe I can't remember my every moment of it, but I do remember the first time I opened my eyes quite vividly... and let me tell you, there's nothing quite as jarring as closing your eyes, surrounded by family and loved ones, only to open them to to a bunch of staring giants. They all started yelling in a language I did not understand, and next thing I knew, a woman's face was in front of mine.

Young and blonde, she looked like she had been through hell that day (or, indeed, simply childbirth). For the longest time, the woman simply held me in her tender embrace, whispering the same thing over and over again in her native tongue.

"Hon lever. Mitt barn, hon är vid liv. "

She, I later came to realize, is the one who birthed me.

It's something I would honestly rather not dwell on, but the truth of the matter is that being a baby doesn't really leave me with many other options to choose from. It's either that or ponder over the reason why I'm here, and I'm not sure if I want to get into all of the deep existential questions just yet, especially since last time anybody asked me, my name was not Helena... and neither was I two months old. I wasn't a Princess either.

My old name- my real name, some part of my brain nags- was Maria. Completely unremarkable, I know, but my folks had always been of the rather religious sort, and what better figure to name your first daughter after than Virgin Mary herself?

I lead a happy life, a full life filled with friends and family and smiling faces, and just as everything tends to- it came to an end. I don't regret it, for I had everything I wanted. A husband, two kids. They loved me, and I loved them. Still do, really, even though I am not Maria anymore.

I guess, at the very least, this does solve the question of what happens to us after death. It's not a question I have ever pondered about much, being one of those people that would rather just cross the bridge when they get to it, but it has been answered all the same: Reincarnation. Somehow, I don't think I'm supposed to remember my life as Maria, but I still do. It's disorienting and weird, but I suppose I'll have the next several years to come to terms with this. Who knows? Maybe this is just the natural flow of things... maybe babies are born with the memories of their previous lives, and that is why they cry all the time. Maybe they forget over time.

Thinking of somebody taking care of a baby Einstein, or a baby Elvis Presley is fun and all that, but doesn't offer any real answers to my predicament. Maybe the whole thing is just so traumatic to our child brain that we forget all about it- boy, do I hope so.

Breast-feeding; just take that for example. Being on the receiving end of it is about just as weird as the fact that I no longer have any teeth in my mouth. It's not fun. I mean, the milk's not even that great, and it keeps running down my chin. On most nights I just long for cooked meals and a good glass of whiskey. Of course, being a baby, it will likely be a long time before the latter will be possible again. Just another downside to this entire situation, really.

Then there's of course the nappy matter. Don't get me started on the nappy matter. One thing you do learn by being a baby, is being unashamed of your own nudity.

Ottavia, my mother's personal maid, is the one that usually takes care of me. She's gentle and knows how to take care of children properly- does it with an ease that makes me wonder if she has any herself. I can't ask her, of course, but I can wonder.

Every morning at 10AM sharp, Ottavia comes into my room (or, at least, what I assume to be my room), pulls open the curtains and sets about her daily task of taking care of me. Ottavia is never silent, is always doing something, whether that is talking, humming a song under her breath or bobbing her head to a tune only she can hear. I can't understand the words she says, don't even know what language she's speaking, but the low tenor of her voice never fails to lull me to sleep. When I wake up, she's usually gone, but it's never long before she is back.

I rather like Ottavia, which is certainly a good thing because she is the one I spend most of my time with as it is. Disliking your primary caretaker would be... unfortunate.

Aside from the ever-present Ottavia, my only other visitor is usually my mother. She visits me from time to time, that beautiful, tall woman I saw on the day of my birth, always tailed by her personal maid. Her hands are soft as they run over my back, and she wears garments of the finest cloth. She smells nice.

There's a smile on her lips as she holds me close, seated in her rocking chair, and it is then that I get to see the outside world for the first time. My mother's chair is situated in front of the window, and as I turn my gaze towards the view outside of it, I am met with snow. There's just so much snow. On the ground, on trees, on mountaintops- and there, in the distance- I can see what looks like a deer. The castle we live in seems to be situated away from any signs of human civilization... but it is so breathtakingly beautiful.

The Queen sings to me sometimes – she sings of things I cannot yet understand, but her voice is soothing and warm, and I can't help but be mesmerised as I look upon her. Sometimes, the melodies seem vaguely familiar, but I can never quite place my hand on what exactly they are called – or why I know them. Sometimes, she tells me what I believe to be stories- fairy tales, perhaps. On some other days she just sits in silence and rocks me to sleep.

She is gentle, and beautiful, and so, so young. I wonder how old she is sometimes, what her name is and if I am her first child. (I believe so, after all, she looks to be in her early twenties). The quiet days are always the ones that set me thinking- I can't help it, just like I can't help the nagging feeling I get that she is not truly happy. She loves me – I can tell – but there is also something incredibly sad about her whenever nobody but the two of us are in the room. Not even Ottavia sees it... but I know.

My mother is a mystery to me, but I feel like she is too young to be going through whatever troubles her. I wish I could help her – but here I am, barely two months old and as useless as a rock.

Logically, I know that I must have a father, but in the two months of my existence in this world, I have not yet seen his face. I wonder what he looks like, if being a King is hard work, but ultimately I don't really care.

He's not somebody that is present in my life- just a vague figure I know must exist somewhere. Maybe even within these very same castle walls.

C'est la vie, I suppose.

When the door creaks open that afternoon, I am expecting Ottavia, or maybe even my mother. I don't bother looking up, for I know the routine by heart. It is only when the door doesn't close like it should have, when the sound of feet against carpeted floor are much lighter than Ottavia's could ever be, that I deign to lazily open my eyes.

I don't see anything of course, just the high ceiling of my bedchamber and the rays of sunshine shining in through the window, but it is as I turn my head to the left that I come nearly face to face with... a curtain of blonde. Two of them.

And, oh, they're children.

A moment passes. And then two. And next thing I know, we've been staring at each other for a while now.

I realize that I must have brothers - two of them, twins - and judging by their looks they can't have been older than five years of age. They're identical, as far as I can tell- with identical silver coronets balanced on the crown of the heads. They are blonde, like our mother, and their hair completely covers their eyes. For a moment, I wonder if they can even see me.

The boy in black whispers something, to which the boy in white grimaces and snaps something else in return. The boy in black laughs. I blow a spit bubble.

A little hand reaches out to poke my cheek and, ow, it digs just a bit too hard for my comfort. I scrunch up my nose, but the boy that I assume to be my brother doesn't take notice. He pokes again, and again, and finally his lips twitch downwards.

She's boring, I can imagine him saying as he pulls his hand back. The other twin doesn't say anything. The boy in the black dress shirt laces his fingers behind his head, saying something with a grinning face, but the other boy doesn't look as amused as he is.

A voice startles us all, and as I turn to look at the doorway, I can make out a long, beautiful dress- it's my mother. She speaks to the boys with the same gentle voice she uses to speak to me, and it seems like she's asking a question. One of the twins shrugs, leaving the room, but the boy in white stays with me.

The Queen walks over to my crib, picking me up with gentle hands and a pretty smile, and I think she's instructing my brother to hold out his arms. He does. I am deposited in them. Patiently, our mother adjusts his hands so that one in supporting my baby head, and the other is beneath my bottom.

The boy's entire frame stiffens, unfamiliar with the concept of holding a baby in his arms, and he looks so lost that I can't help but take pity on him. Still sleepy from my prolonged nap earlier today, I blink my eyes and offer him a sleepy smile.

He looks surprised.

I think she likes her big brother, I think the Queen says, a hand reaching out to ruffle the boy's overlong hair.

My brother just stares at me, and slowly, he smiles back.


A/N: So here's chapter two, still on schedule! Don't have much to say about this one, except for the fact that the Queen's words have been taken from google translate. Basically, she's saying "She's alive! My baby, she's alive!". If you know Swedish and this is wrong, I apologize and please tell me so I can change it! Also, yes! Even though they do not live in Sweden, I'm making Swedish Bel and Rasiel's mother tongue. What do you guys think of that?

Please leave a review~