I can't believe this is happening. WHY is this happening? I was good as dead, so why am I a stinking toddler, and who are these people?

  The man had his arms stretched out holding me as if he were unfamiliar with handling babies.

  Maybe they're new parents? My parents? Speaking of which, I just now realized that the man and woman were adorned in luxurious fabric and jewelry from head to toe. I assumed they were a couple of high-profile individuals, but their oddly worn old European clothing resembled that of royalty. The woman is gorgeous, with long, silky auburn hair tied in a French braid to the side, bright green eyes, an upturned nose, and white porcelain skin. She looked like a fairy. Both of them seem so otherworldly.

  "So this is the poor bastard," said the woman. Her tone was snarky, but her voice was alluring. I could listen to her talk all day if I could, but her remark didn't sit well with me.

  Bastard? She was clearly referring to me, but why? With the realization that I had turned into a baby, I believed that these two were my parents. Why else would this pair be here otherwise?

  "Enough, Frida, I will not have you belittle my son," the man said in a deep, bellowing voice. I shuddered and began to cry against my will.

  It seems I'm unable to control my emotions at the slightest discomfort. I'm unaccustomed to this body, and the new details presented continue to be confusing. The man is certainly my father, but is this woman not my mother? Did my father have an affair, and is my mother his mistress? This certainly makes my life more complicated if that's true... Right, my life... Have I been reincarnated? I wouldn't know how else to explain this situation I'm in right now. The fact that I was a full-grown adult a few minutes ago and am now a newborn is jarring. Not only that, but what era am I in? The furniture and fashion seem to be from the Early Modern Era. God, I can't believe O'Brian's incessant chattering of history was useful; I owe that history buff... Or not... It's starting to hit that I'll never see my brothers again... Don't really miss my old life, but this new life might not be any better.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "This poor thing, born without a mother to love him and hardly any support from the nobles. He was better off dying with his mother," Frida expressed in a demeaning manner.

  "You forget he is my son, the prince of this kingdom," said the man this time in a stern tone, not turning his head toward her but instead his eyes.

  "Yes, the third prince, from your second concubine, who is no longer alive, thanks to him," Frida snapped back with a scowl creeping behind the man's back. "A timid woman who was unfit for her position; no ambition, no power, and, most of all, no support from her own people. She was no better than a mute whore." Frida continued, disregarding the man's clear warning, looking right at me with a smug smirk.

  "Watch your tongue, Frida; you may be the queen, but as king, I won't have you insulting the royal family any longer," the man rebuked, visibly vexed.

  The tension was making me uncomfortable, but worse was all the information pouring out of their mouths. They're a king and queen? I'm a prince? The woman who gave birth to me died having me, along with the fact that she was powerless in this kingdom. Aren't I at a disadvantage then? But maybe if I grow up with my head down and do my own thing, I could live a life of peace and luxury. I mean, if I'm a prince, I could live like a spoiled brat, right? I do feel bad about my mother, who died, but it's not like I know the poor woman and I don't owe her anything for bringing me into this world; I never asked for it in the first place.

  While sobbing, I glance at Frida, and she returns a piercing glare full of killing intent. I start wailing profusely this time.

  What the hell was that!? How can she look at a baby like that? I haven't done anything to her, but I could tell she hates me. It's evident that she and my mother were not friends with all the bashing, so it's not possible that she hates me for my mother's death. My mother may have upset her somehow; I don't know, but receiving the queen's hostility, I know for sure I'm not safe.

  "I can't listen to that insufferable blubbering anymore; I will be returning to my chambers," said the queen as she strutted away.

  The king lays me back down in the crib and calls for a nanny to put me to sleep. Before he leaves, he whispers to me, "It would have been best if you had died alongside your mother; however, now you must live an arduous life striving to live another day. I cannot help you, as I too must look over my shoulder for danger. I truly apologize for being your father, child." The king finally leaves.

  I stare at the ceiling motionless; I am at a loss for words. Am I fated to always live a dreadful life no matter what? Not even an hour has passed since my eyes opened to this new life, and already I am in danger. Perhaps I deserve it, karma for my past life. It's hopeless. I don't see how I can survive this; no friends, family, or allies to help me. I'm going to die again...