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 the bathroom, 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. The three of us were now stuck in the world’s most awkward standoff. 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.”
‘Oh, I get it. They’re here to watch me in case I try to escape,’ I thought, completely misunderstanding the situation.
Feeling shy, I walked behind them, stole a glance at their faces, and hesitantly started taking off my oversized shirt and unhooked 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.
My stomach sank. "Uh... does it look like I’m trying to hide it?" I mumbled, pointing awkwardly at my chest. Their expressions changed so fast I almost stumbled backward. It wasn’t just surprise—it was fear.
The older woman bolted toward the door, locking it with a candlestick, while the younger one drew the curtains in a frantic sweep, her face 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 was dangerous.
“Um, what’s going on?” I asked, thoroughly bewildered.
"Who knows about this?" the older woman demanded, her tone now deadly serious.
"I don't know. It's not like I’m hiding—" I began, but she cut me off, grabbing my shoulders with the intensity of someone about to reveal a dark conspiracy.
"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. "No, I didn’t."
“Where are you from to not know something this basic?” she pressed, her tone sharpening.
“Not from here,” I muttered, too exhausted to explain the whole ‘other world’ thing. Honestly, who’d believe me?
"Definitely not from this world," I mumbled, stepping into the tub and trying to scrub off the sticky blood on my face. I couldn’t help but wonder how my bath suddenly turned into an episode of The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon.
“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 she began scrubbing my arms. “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 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. 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.
“It seems you’ve hurt your head pretty badly. You probably don’t even remember your name.” The middle-aged woman’s voice was gentle, yet firm, as she brushed the tender wound on my forehead with soft cloth. She looked so convinced of my injury that I didn’t bother correcting her.
I held the cloth, staring at it. Wait..am I actually excited about hiding my gender? 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, we exchanged quiet goodbyes. I had no idea if I’d 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.
“Please come inside,” a person who looked like a butler said, gesturing to a door that loomed with an ominous aura.
‘My instinct is screaming at me to avoid this door but…’
I took a deep breath and finally entered. Inside, the prince was sitting at his desk, discussing something with two 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 crafted ornaments, but I didn’t have the guts to admire it. I was so nervous that it felt like my first CEO interview, except this time, my life was on the line. My hands clutched my double-layered clothes, my chest feeling both stifling and oddly secure. For someone who hates bras, this is so uncomfortable.
I automatically stood up when the prince entered the room, like a soldier meeting his superior. I couldn’t believe I was in this situation.
“I believe I don’t have to explain why you’re here,” the prince said upon entering and sitting in front of me. I remained silent because I had no idea why.
‘You better explain, I am not a mind reader.’
The prince waved his hand, signaling one of his attendants, who moved towards me and placed a box 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?’
😂
)‘This is why they say it’s not good to lie about your skills…’ 😖
“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.
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. 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, I began scribbling anything that made sense, but nothing make any sense. The prince’s piercing gaze bore into me, a silent, oppressive force that amplified the pressure tenfold.
Desperation clawed at me. “I’m sorry, but 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, his tone a dark promise, 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 scroll blurred as I tried to focus, my hands shaking with every stroke of ink. Every passing second felt like a death sentence.
Then, a glimmer—something that stood out amid the chaos of symbols and numbers. A word. "Life." I blinked. Could that be right? My pulse quickened. Maybe I could do this. I scribbled faster, my hand cramping as more pieces fell into place, hope burning like a small flame in the dark.
But just as I was starting to see a pattern—footsteps. The prince reentered, his cold gaze like ice water.
"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. I failed to decode the scroll.
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