Season III Prologue Part II
“Isabella…” she whispered to herself. The water surrounding her shattering softly against the tile floor drowned out most of the sound that was escaping her lips, but her whisper was still loud enough that she could hear herself speak—or at least she thought she was hearing herself. “Isabella…” she repeated to herself, “is my name…”
It was not that Isabella de la Cruz was so unfamiliar with her voice now that her memory was returning to her. On the contrary, it was the familiarity of it—the sameness of her voice with the one she had during her time as Princess Jesca of the Infinite Castle that disturbed her. It was as if everything and nothing had changed.
“Isabella?”—this time it wasn’t her voice. Antonio was calling her from behind the sealed door. “Are you alright in there?”
That man’s voice, as well, was both familiar and unfamiliar. Isabella looked up towards the distorted glass that camouflaged her naked body inside of the shower with the shadow outside. Even her sight seemed too sharp now… now that the doctors (she was told) had taken the liberty of fixing what was wrong with her damaged eye—the one that she sustained after being shot, she remembered. Now, however, the double effectiveness of her vision disturbed her as much as her memories—her previously closed eye was now giving in vivid sight just like it used to—she could see much more clearly.
“I’m fine,” she said in return instinctively holding her upper body with her arms as if the glass itself would break away at any instant and expose her. The hot water shuddered against her skin as she leaned forward towards the shower. She could see out of the corner of her eye the receding shadow of Antonio. For a moment she wanted that familiar silhouette to return, as if Antonio was holding onto the other end of a string that was attached to her body and every time he moved away, a part of her was attempting to jump out of her skin, but she pulled herself back and tightened her grip across her chest. An instant later, it was as if she relented, shooting her eyes back towards the distorted glass wondering if perhaps the shadow was gone or if the man was hovering just outside of the view of the light still waiting for her. “Antonio?” she called out quietly.
She wasn’t even sure why she called out for him. Maybe the departing figure was pulling out his name through her throat with that string— “Yes?” was the surprise from the other side.
He hadn’t left, Isabella thought to herself with a confused delight. For a few seconds, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say at all or even if she had a purpose for calling out to him. “Thank you…” was the only thing she could say.