Following the prince's orders, someone led me inside and into an empty room, telling me to wait. Finally, I could catch my breath.
Soon, a middle-aged woman arrived with a younger woman who looked about my age. They announced they were there to clean me up and make me presentable. Relief flooded me—this was exactly what I needed.
They guided me to a room that looked like the bathroom, before setting down a basket overflowing with bottles and towels. I watched them, expecting them to leave, but instead, they walked over to me.
"Ah... w-wait. What are you doing?" I stammered, as they stepped closer, clearly intent on undressing me.
"Removing your clothes, sire," the older woman replied as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
"Sir? No, no, it's fine—I can handle bathing on my own," I said, trying to force a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
I stood there, tense, while they just stared at me. No one moved. No one spoke. Was I supposed to make the first move?
I waited, hoping they'd take the hint and leave, but when it became clear they weren't going anywhere, I finally blurted out, "Um, aren't you going to, you know, head out? I kinda need to take a bath, and it's a solo activity."
"We can't. We've been ordered to assist you, my lord."
'Oh, I get it. They're here to watch me in case I try to escape,' I thought, completely misunderstanding the situation.
Feeling a bit shy, I walked inside, stole a glance behind them, and hesitantly started removing my oversized shirt before unhooking my bra.
Gasp! I turned to see their shocked expressions.
"Y-you're a woman?" the older one blurted out, eyes wide, her voice trembling with disbelief.
"Uh... does this look like a man can have?" I said, pointing awkwardly at my chest.
Their faces shifted so quickly that I nearly stepped back. Shock turned to something else—something sharper. Were they... afraid? The older woman bolted toward the door, double locking it with a candlestick, while the younger one drew the curtains in a frantic sweep, both of their faces were pale as if we were hiding a crime.
"What... what are you doing?" My voice wavered, dread gnawing at my insides. This wasn't just awkward anymore. It feels like something dangerous is about to happen.
"Um, what's going on?" I asked, thoroughly bewildered at their sudden action
"Who knows about this?" the older woman demanded, her tone is now deadly serious compared to before.
"I don't know. It's not like I'm hiding—" I began, but she cut me off, suddenly grabbing both my shoulders, which made me flinch with the unexpected action.
"Listen carefully," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You mustn't let anyone know. Do you understand?"
"Uh, yeah, sure, but... why?" I asked, still thoroughly confused. "You really didn't know?" the older woman asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
I shook my head before answering the obvious "No, I didn't."
"Where are you from to not know something this basic?" she pressed me with more information, sharpening her tone.
How did this go from a simple bath to an interrogation scene straight out of a drama?
"Not from here for sure," I muttered, too exhausted to explain the whole 'other world' thing.
Honestly, who'd believe me when I myself can't believe what's happening to me? I don't even know where I am. If this is another world, it should be something like those I watched and read, right?
The one who enters a story or portal something, but the problem is...I am in my real body. So what kind of story is this? I never wrote myself as the main character—who would do that? Haist...my brain is not functioning today to remember all those thousand stories I have read.
"Definitely not from this world," I added, too exhausted to explain further as I stepped into the tub, scrubbing at the sticky blood clinging to my face. I groaned while rinsing the wounds on my head.
That guard was utterly heartless! My expensive skincare routine is too precious for my face to just slam against the floor!
"If you didn't know, then you must be from the Homonhon Empire?"
'Homonhon? That sounds like Hamon, a sweet small cut of pork that turns into ham...' I shake my head with the thoughts of food. It's making me hungry.
"Nope. Aunty, sorry, but can I wash myself?" I awkwardly requested as they began scrubbing my arms and continue asking me questions that I obviously didn't have an answer to.
"I mean, it feels weird having someone else wash me when I'm already a grown woman." I slid away from them, continuing to scrub my body.
"If you're not from the Homonhon Empire, then there's no way you wouldn't know how women are treated here."
"Mother, look at her clothes. They're very dirty but they look different from what our people wear," the younger girl observed, eyeing my jeans and oversized shirt. I quickly snatched my underwear from her grasp, my face flushing with embarrassment. This is so mortifying!
"I heard you were held captive, but which kingdom are you from if not Homonhon?" I debated internally before deciding to reveal the truth about my origins and how I got involved in the war between the two kingdoms otherwise these two would not stop asking me questions I don't have answers from.
In the end, they simply concluded that I'd hurt my brain. I don't expect them to believe me, but being called crazy stung more than I thought it would. Honestly, I question how I've managed to stay sane after everything I've been through.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"It seems you've hurt your head pretty badly. Do you even remember your name?" The middle-aged woman's voice was gentle, yet firm, as she brushed the tender wound on my forehead with the soft cloth that I got earlier. She looked so convinced of my injury that I didn't bother correcting her.
"Let me introduce myself first. I'm Lea, and this is my daughter, Rowena." We exchanged polite bows, though their cautious gazes lingered. I sensed a quiet, unspoken bond of trust forming.
"Come here. Let us help you clean up." Skeptical but with no better options, I followed.
"Listen carefully," Lea said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she scrubbed my back.
"This Empire is built on dominance and power. The royals rule with cruelty, and those of us lower down live in constant fear. Here, strength is everything. Women are often forced into secondary roles, little more than tools for the powerful to wield."
The water trickled down my face, merging with her words. My reflection in the bathwater distorted and rippled, much like this twisted world. "The people here," she continued, her voice now soft but unyielding, "are cold, calculating. They don't show emotions easily, and love? It's seen as a weakness compared to our village. Servants like us… we have no choice but to serve. Whether it's with our skills or our bodies, that all depends on who we end up serving."
I stared into the water as droplets slid down from my hair and blurred my reflection. This world played by different rules. If I wanted to survive, I had to learn them fast. This is something I have to know. I have to listen to this information.
"There used to be three empires," Lea went on, her tone is now calm yet heavy. "Only the Homonhon and Elthor treated women differently. We're from Ellis, a fallen kingdom of the Elthor Empire. But fate brought us here, to serve under this lord. We had dreams of escape once, but with the fall of Aldo—a kingdom known for its military strength today, those hopes were shattered. It's because our princess is…" Her voice faltered.
"Mother…" Rowena interrupted gently, her hand on Lea's arm. Lea's mouth closed, but her gaze was grim.
"The only empire left now is Homonhon but it was threatened as we speak. This kingdom, Marceau, used to be small and unremarkable, but look at what it's become." Lea's voice grew heavy, like lead.
"There are quite a few women here, and every one of them has one role: to serve their master. Do you understand now why we're so worried for you?"
A chill ran down my spine, and I nodded slowly. Hesitating, I spoke up, wary of the answer. "Then… does that mean you two…" Lea cut me off with a firm shake of her head, though her expression was full of pain.
"I made both of us barren."
'What's barren for women again? I think I know that—ah!'
A heavy silence fell in the room the moment I thought what it means, thick and unbreakable, until Lea finally spoke again.
"That's why we're allowed to serve in the palace," she said with a steady voice but much darker now.
"No one can touch a woman owned by the emperor, not unless he allows it." I saw then how the weight of her words carved into her face, lines of weariness etched deep.
"And the emperor doesn't like a woman with a scar. I made sure neither of us could be used, so I took that choice away from them." My throat tightened, a horrified question on my lips as I looked at the scar on their shoulder near the chest.
"You… chose that?" to confirm my question, she nodded slowly, her eyes clouded with grief.
"It was the only way to protect her. To protect us," she added.
A shiver crept over me.
Would I need the same kind of protection? But I take extra care of my skin, even buying those expensive skin care that my idols used...and I hate pain!
"What about the women I saw earlier?" I asked, remembering the chains on their wrists. "Are they slaves?"
"They aren't slaves. They're princesses from a kingdom that the emperor took a liking to," Rowena said softly.
I felt sick.
"That's… twisted." A dark thought clawed its way to the surface.
I just got lucky now, but what if they find out I'm a woman?
"Aunty, what should I do?" My voice sounded small, like a child's. I asked if she had any medicine to make me barren, even though dread pooled in my stomach at the thought because this current situation wasn't in my plan. She only shook her head sadly.
"Don't worry. As long as they believe you're a man, you'll be safe," Lea said, her eyes flickering with doubt as she looked at the clothes Rowena's holding.
"They sent men's clothes. They must already believe it. Just… play the role." My stomach twisted.
Play the role? Easier said than done!
"But…" Her eyes flicked down for just a second—just long enough for me to get the message loud and clear.
"I can hide that," I whispered, more to myself than to her.
"If I bind it tight, no one will notice. Some of my friends use binders to flatten theirs. If I had something long enough…"
"Like this?" Rowena held up a strip of fabric, thin but sturdy.
"Perfect!" I said, feeling a strange burst of relief.
I held the cloth, staring at it.
Wait..why am I happy for a piece of cloth? Disguising myself was going to be a challenge. Flattening my chest is one thing, but my small build and voice will give me away eventually—or so I thought.
After Lea and Rowena helped me dress and taught me things I have to remember, we exchanged quiet goodbyes. I had no idea if I'd see them again, but they said I would be heading to the prince's palace, where women are rarely seen, so I guess I could not see them again.
My life was a mess. I'd just wanted to buy shoes, but now I was in a life-or-death situation, forced to disguise myself as a man and prepare to meet a prince who terrified me. What did he need from me anyway?
"Please come inside," a person who looked like a butler said, gesturing to a door that loomed with an ominous aura.
'My instincts screamed at me to avoid this door, but...' I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts, but they still swarmed like restless insects. Inside, the prince was sitting at his desk, discussing something with two people who looked like some kind of officials.
One of the attendants guided me to another room where I anxiously sat on one of the sofas. The room was luxurious, filled with gold-crafted ornaments, but I didn't have the guts to admire it. I was so nervous, like I was being interviewed by a CEO for the first time—except this time, my life was on the line.
My hands clutched to my double-layered clothes, my chest feeling both stifling and oddly secure. For someone who hated bras, this was so uncomfortable!
I automatically stood up when the prince entered the room, like a soldier meeting his superior. I couldn't believe my reaction just now.
"I believe I don't have to explain why you're here," the prince said upon entering and sat in front of me. I remained silent because I had no idea why.
You better explain, I'm not a mind reader.
The prince waved his hand, signaling one of his attendants, who moved towards me and placed a decorative container in front of me. He then opened it to reveal what looked like an ancient scroll made of fabric cloth with a soft yet dry texture—something you'd expect to see in a museum.
I blankly stared at the contents of the scroll, its mysterious symbols gazing back at me as the attendant carefully opened it and then left the room.
What's this? A code? Sudoku?
(A/N: You can see the scrolls to the link attached below)
Panic seized me as I stared at the scroll—a chaotic mix of letters, symbols, and numbers. It was a cryptic puzzle, a blend of ancient and modern scripts that seemed impossible to unravel.
"This is a secret scroll that my historians have already decoded," the prince declared, his voice still cold and commanding. His eyes gleamed with a sinister intensity as he clasped his hands, leaning slightly forward, daring me to falter.
"I need to test your skill to see if your life is worth saving and if you possess what it takes to stand among them."
'This is why they say it's not good to lie about your skills…' I scolded myself.
"Ha…Ha, this looks very... interesting," I stammered, cold sweat trickling down my spine.
"What will happen to me if I can't decode this... your Highness?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"Death," the prince replied, his smile cruel and devoid of warmth.
The single word hung in the air, sharp as a blade, sending shivers down my spine. I internally cried out in despair.
It's no use—I'll die here…
No!! Let's at least try to understand this. You can do it, girl! Think of it as a puzzle.
Grabbing a quill and paper with a shakly hands, I began scribbling anything that made sense, but...nothing made any sense at all.
What should I do? The prince's piercing gaze bore into me, a silent, oppressive force that made the air heavy and my thoughts scatter. I froze. The weight of it pressed down on me, locking my limbs in place. Desperation clawed at my mind, urging me to act, yet leaving me paralyzed.
"Hey, Could you leave?" I blurted out, instantly regretting the informal tone. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I mean, would you kindly give me some space to think, Your Highness? I can't focus with you watching me so intently."
"…"
"Just a few minutes, please. If I haven't made any progress by then, you can do as you wish with me." I gripped the pen tightly, my breath hitching as I awaited his response.
"Very well," he said, his voice dripping with cold authority. I exhaled in relief, but before leaving, he placed an hourglass on the table, the sand already beginning to fall.
"I expect good results," he warned, before turning and exiting the room.
My heart raced as the sand slipped away. Panic clawed at me, but I forced myself to breathe, gripping the quill like a lifeline.
The letters on the scroll blurred, twisting in and out of focus as I struggled to make sense of them. My hands trembled with every stroke of ink, each second slipping away like grains of sand in an hourglass. The pressure was suffocating.
I racked my brain, trying to connect the symbols to latitude or longitude, but nothing fit. I even considered a Da Vinci Code-style cipher, but it didn’t match—or maybe I was grasping at straws too soon. Frustration clawed at me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.
Just when I was on the brink of giving up, my eyes caught it—a glimmer. A pattern. Something different that stood out amidst the chaos of symbols and numbers. My pulse quickened. Could it be like that? There’s no way... right?
I decided to try another method—something so absurd no one would ever think to use it. But I had to try everything. My hands moved frantically, piecing together fragments, and then it appeared: the word “Life.”
I froze, staring at the unexpected word. My heart pounded in my chest. Hope flickered to life, fragile but fierce. My pulse raced as I scribbled faster, my cramped hand ignoring the pain as more pieces began to fall into place. The chaotic symbols started to align, forming the faint outline of meaning—a small flame of possibility in the surrounding darkness.
But just as clarity began to emerge, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor. The prince returned. His cold gaze met mine, and my stomach twisted—like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my last shred of hope
"Time's up." My heart sank.
I had failed. The final grains of sand fell, sealing my fate.
And that's the moment I knew—I fucked up.