Nightmare

It was late into the night; usually, the palace would have been quiet at this time, but this night was different. The entire Nixet royal Palace was lit with decorated lamps, and beautiful decorations lay on every inch. It was indeed a grand banquet. The sound of singing and dancing could be heard in the vast palace. Even the maids were not left out; they were beautifully dressed, and the atmosphere was adorned with sounds of laughter and joy.

There was so much beauty and color, people going in and out of the hall. Everyone who was somebody within the capital was invited. Even a few nobles outside the capital also managed to be in attendance.

The decoration shone so brightly that it contrasted sharply with the darkness looming in a small corner of the palace.

In a small courtyard that seems to have been forgotten, a small flipping light from a room indicates the existence of life within.

The small light flips occasionally, and it seems to struggle with the wind for a chance for survival.

Cough cough cough

The sound of suppressed coughing came from the room where the dim light shone. Laying on the bed was an old woman who, just like the lamp, seemed that she would be lost any moment. The distance music could be occasionally heard.

"Your Majesty, eat something," a maid said, bending beside the bed and placing a tray on the table beside the bed.

"what's the point?" the old lady asked. Her voice was clear, it was different from her weak and lifeless state.

The maid sighed; she looked at the woman who was said to be envied by all. "you can't give up on yourself like this. As long as you live, that woman will not be able to take your place," the maid said.

The old woman smiled; her wrinkled face did not light up, and her eyes remained lifeless. "Do you really believe they would let me live?" the woman asked. The maid moved her lips like she wanted to say something but decided against it.

"Listen, the celebration has already started," the old lady said. Her smile looked wider, but those familiar with her could tell it was not sincere.

Perhaps she was mocking her fate. She had married into the royal family full of hope and had become the envy of all her age mates. She had thought that after suffering for the first eighteen years of her life, God had finally smiled at her, but she was in for a big disappointment.

After pretending for so many years, she was tired of fighting, she was tired of pretending. Being a part of the royal family was not as glamorous as she had expected.

"Even if I am not his mother, I have raised him with so much love for twenty years. The doctor already said I had just a few days left; he could have given me the honor. At least for the last time..." the old woman sighed and closed her eyes.

She frowned her brows, she felt like a thousand arrows had piers into her heart. She felt pains all over her body but cold at heart. She struggled to breathe.

The maid, noticing her struggle, dashed to the other side of the room. She returned, holding a small bottle.

She immediately took a spoon and poured out the content into it. The old woman seems to be in more pain.

"Your Majesty, open your mouth and take your medicine, " the maid said.

The woman on the bed did not respond, but the frown on her face seemed to have reduced. She seemed to have gaps for breath, and then she suddenly stopped.

*Bang* The small bottle and spoon dropped from the maid's hands.

"Your Majesty, your Majesty," the maid called out in panic. Forgetting the difference in status, she shook the Empress, but there was no response. The Empress seems to have closed her eyes, never to open them again.

The entire palace was supposed to be in mourning, but the joyful music from the banquet hall suggests something different.

Even a royal maid would have friends and colleagues to send her off, but the mother of the nation died cold and alone...

.....

Anastasia's eyes snapped open as she sucked in cold air. Her heart beat fast, and she felt a shiver run through her spine. She raised her hand to touch her chest and only felt a bit relieved when she felt the strong heartbeat.

Her eyes caught sight of her hands, "Young," she thought, and she jumped out of the bed and hurried over to the old broken mirror by the side of her room.

Her legs shook with every step; after looking at the youthful face, she calmed down a bit more, but scenes from the dream she had just had flashed through her mind as though watching a play in the theatre.

In the dream, the beautiful young girl smiled brightly as she married the crown prince when she turned eighteen. From that moment, she became the envy of all; her step-sister's face was as black as the bottom of a pot because she had failed to steal the marriage. Many people said she was not worthy of him, but she married him and became the mother of the nation.

She seemed to live a life of comfort and glamour, sitting above and looking down on everyone else, but her life in the palace was bitter. She was barren and unable to bear an heir, forcing her to adopt a child from her Huband's mistress when he was just born.

She raised the child as her own for more than twenty years with love, but when he found out she was not his mother, she became the wicked witch who separated a mother and son. Although the doctor said she was sick, as an empress, she knew that she was poisoned. She died just before she was fifty, but she looked over eighty. Cold and alone with just her personal maid to send her off.

"Crazy," the dream was so long that she could not remember every detail, but the part she remembered sent a shiver through her spine. She picked up the jug by her bedside and slashed water on her face.

"It's just a dream, " she told herself as she cleaned her face and tried to shake the memory of the dream out of her mind, looking around the room. The familiar site finally brought some peace to her racing heart.

"Thank Goodness, it was just a dream," She seemed to convince herself finally, but as soon as those words came out of her mouth, she felt a tightening in her heart.

The dream seemed so real that she could not shake it off.

'Am I cursed to suffer, " she froze as more scenes of the dream flashed through her mind. Thinking in this direction, her already calm heart became anxious again.

"No, no, it's not true, it was just a dream, " Anastasia tried to convince herself again even if she was overwhelmed by fear. No one wanted to suffer all their life. No one wanted to die in such a cold manner. Everyone wished for a bright and better future; how could she accept such bitterness and loneliness?

"Lady Anastasia, " a cold voice sounded outside the door, followed by rude knocking. Although the person knocking had called her 'lady,' the manner in which she knocked on the door proved how much this lady was respected in the house.

Anastasia had always hated hearing the woman's voice outside, but she felt it was melody that day. The woman outside was Leah, the personal maid of the Duchess, Anistasia's stepmother.

She suddenly realized how impossible her dream was. "That woman would never allow me to have such a good marriage, " Anastasia quickly realized as relief washed over her. for the first time, she felt it was not so bad to be unfavored. The Duchess had a daughter who was just one year younger than her. The crown prince was said to be handsome, the dream husband to all the unmarried ladies. Anastasia shook her head, feeling disappointed that she had been scared over nothing.

"Open the door, you dam girl. I do not have all day. You still have to prepare a bath for your sister. Hurry up and go and get the spices needed, " The maid commanded in a low voice.

Anastasia smiled; she knew the only reason she was not shouting at the top of her voice was because the Duke was still home. Although there was a slim chance for him to hear her or take any action, even if he did, it was still the early hours, and Leah and her madam would never take any chances that could lead to exposure.