It had been exactly a few weeks that he had not stopped counting the seconds, minutes, hours and days that had passed. He felt frustrated, annoyed and anxious as he felt the air from his stomach being pushed out. Gyahhh. He screamed internally.
“Your highness, please hold it in.” the maids bickered to one another, as the corset was tightened further around his waist. He cried in pain, before he collapsed to the ground.
“I can’t! I can’t!” He yelped, but all the maids flustered said that he must.
“Your highness! You are going to be greeting King Richard of Braxton and the Queen in a few days.” They murmured, and he had to give in.
How could he face his friend the King as this?
He felt embarrassed, before the corset was finally tied to his back.
What happened to him, and why did he become the princess of a neighboring kingdom?
“I even heard Sir Fredrick and Sir Bernard that serve King Richard are going to be at the ball. They both are yet to be married. I heard they both are quite handsome.” the maid said excitedly.
Wait. What!
“Did you say Sir Fredrick?” He asked, and they all nodded.
How is that possible?
Before he had known it, he had drunken himself to sleep a few weeks ago. The agonizing years of living each day with regret had even made his friend Richard take pity on him.
“Get some rest Fredrick.” Richard had said, before a hand was put onto his shoulders. He had slumped himself onto a nearby chair at his estate, as the servants around him scurried off to not bother him.
How much longer will this heart of his keep beating?
Would he be able to meet up with her if it had stopped?
He pushed himself up and walked towards his bed. He allowed himself to fall face flat. His eyes heavy, as a sense of relief overcame him.
Until he heard the dreaded words of “Your highness!”
“Leave me alone.” He murmured, with his eyes still closed.
Like a child, he managed to pull up the sheets just enough to cover half his face, while they continued to pester him to get up. He finally couldn’t take it anymore, so he managed to open his eyes to make out the three distinctive maids with their hair braided up with the same exact outfit of green and white. They weren’t the maids from his estate.
“You are going to be late to greet your father, the king.” They bickered before he pulled the sheet over his head.
“Five more minutes.” he murmured, while they forcefully dragged the sheet off of him.
“That is unacceptable. Your father the king will be quite upset.”
“King? What king?” Fredrick asked, before he flung himself straight up like a plank to a sitting position in bed. The maids in alarm had jumped back a few feet, still holding the sheets in their hands.
“What did you just say?” he asked, while the maids dropped the sheets they held onto the floor.
“His Majesty, your father is waiting for you!” they all said at once, and before he knew it, he was dragged out of bed.
Fredrick sat confused as the words king and father were still being processed in the back of his mind. He leaned forward just enough to notice a large lock of blonde hair had come into his perception. He grabbed for it abruptly and pulled it, to only feel a painful sensation on the back of his skull. His own hands were delicate and his own damn fingernails were colored with pink. These hands are definitely not his!
“Could I get a mirror?” He asked, and the maids who had been brushing his hair at first seemed reluctant to, went to fetch a small hand mirror. He grabbed it from her hand and looked at himself.
After a few seconds of contemplation he said, “No! No! No!”
A beauty with blonde hair, radiant golden eyes, and glossy lips looked back at him. He turned the mirror away then turned it back around to look at it once more. It's blinding.
Who in the world is this?
“What happened?” Fredrick questioned. He was in shock, as the mirror in his hand slid to the ground.
He’s a woman.
How does one become a woman?
He thought about this for a good while, before he pushed himself back in the chair, and due to a loss of balance, fell backwards and landed headfirst to the floor.
The maids screamed in a panic, “YOUR HIGHNESS!”
Meanwhile, Fredrick maintained eye contact with the ceiling above and thought just maybe if he closed his eyes this nightmare would end.
He begged. He cried internally. He even prayed.
“Why is her highness acting so strange?” One of the maids asked, but the others seemed reluctant to care. “You're asking me. Her highness was in tears just a few days ago, after Duke William’s had rejected her bluntly! Can you blame him, because I surely cannot.” They gossiped, before a hasty, “shhhhh” was given.
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