Prince's Angel

Lys the Lovely

It was a nightmare. Somehow Gabrielle was a baby again.

She was fed, changed and bathed like a baby. They rocked her and sang her to sleep. It was months before she could taste solid food again. As a baby she rarely cried, much to her caretakers' relief. 

The constant presence in her life was the woman with silvery hair who reminded her painfully, heart-breakingly of Apolline, her real mother, and of a man, also with silver hair, much to her surprise. His eyes were a shade of lilac which she found surprising, just as she was surprised at her mother's violet eyes. Real purple eyes.

Her new parents constantly enthused or marvelled at how beautiful their daughter was. Gabrielle saw them beam and glow with pride, but her heart was unbearably broken. She was distraught, grief-stricken, devastated.

Lady Saera, was a sweet, gentle-hearted woman who adored her child. Lord Ayrmidon was a warm-hearted, proud, strong man who loved her deeply. Yet it was never the same. 

The images of Fleur, her mother and father, her nephew and nieces filled her mind, and she couldn't believe, couldn't comprehend, that she was now far away, born to another family, as someone else's baby. She wanted nothing more than to go home. She wanted to hug her mother, listen to her fuss over her hair and the state of her clothing, get crushed in her father's embrace, listen to his booming laugh and his enthusiasm and zest for life, his warmth. The smell of the coffee and hot chocolate, and the daffodils and roses in her mother's kitchen, the warmth of the sun... Even the hospital potions smells she craved. 

Fleur's cheerful excitement to see her once again, her enthusiastically greeting and fussing over her as only a second mother could, eagerly ushering her into the kitchen at Shell Cottage for a cup of tea and some biscuits, chatting away about the latest fashions...

She would never see Fleur again. Never see her nieces and nephew, never play the doting aunt. Never shower them with gifts on their birthdays, never pepper them with countless kisses and sweets from France. Never send them letters along with parcels of clothes and perfumes or broomsticks.

Somehow, she had managed to become a baby. And she was far away, she had no doubt of that. The only problem was, she didn't know where she was. 

She saw other people besides her new parents. But they all confused her. As far as she knew, there weren't that many people with silver-gold hair- so pure a silver they couldn't be mere blonde. There was a metallic glint that could only come from silver or gold, or even platinum, that was absent in blondes. Purple eyes were another unusual thing. Everyone's eyes seemed to be purple- whether in shades of violet, lilac or indigo, and very rarely pale blue. As beautiful as this was, it seemed disconcerting for Gabrielle.

Wait, there were quite a few people with dark skin, hair and eyes. She nearly damned well cried with relief. She wanted something conforting, something familiar. When she saw someone who could've come from Africa, she nearly wept. What strange world was she in? Where all the people were lovely and looked more like Veela than human?

Well, actually that was to the untrained eye. Gaby knew that while these people appeared heartbreakingly beautiful, they weren't as devastatingly, inhumanly lovely as real Veela. 

She just wondered if she was still as beautiful as she was before or if her appearance had changed. If her family's looks were of any indication, she would have silver-gold hair and purple eyes.

Where am I?

Her new name was Seraena Veltaris, and it took some time for her to adjust to that.

She knew she looked mostly the same as she did in her last life and she nearly collapsed in relief when she saw herself in the mirror for the first time.