I stare at the three people in the room as if asking for explanation why I look like a girl or why I feel like I'm in a girl's body with my memory intact as me or why am I not in my own body.

  "Where am I?"

  "You're in your room My Lady." Said the knight.

  No, I know dipshit. It's obviously a room. A fancy girly room.

  "No, what I meant is what country am I right now. No wait a minute. Why am I in this body? What did you do to me?"

  "Stop talking nonsense Amethyst. You have always been you." Said the old lady.

  "M-my lord is this perhaps what the priest mentioned? That our daughter might experience some drawbacks." The old lady with a handkerchief said as she looks at the old man.

  "O-ohh .. I think so my duchess. If it's that then everything is fine."

  "Alice, summon the priest from the church immediately and tell him the news."

  "Yes My Lady." Then the lady knight went out of the room.

  I drag a chair that was placed near a vanity mirror near the door and I place it in front of the two people who are in my understanding, the duke and the duchess.

  "So tell me, of what place are you two duke and duchess to?" I'm sitting like an asshole right now to emit my manliness that is now all gone. My pride is scarred.

  "Amethyst why are you sitting like an uneducated lady? Close your legs it's inappropriate." The duchess scolded.

  "Do you think I give a fuck about that right now duchess?" I said in the most arrogant way and the duchess' almost fainted and the duke got angry.

  Ah what a 'get my wife's name out of your mouth' moment.

  Will I get a slap too? Better be in a stance.

  The duke walk towards me confused why I raised both arms with closed knuckles signaling a defense but shakes his head and went on and scolded me about how vile my tongue is and he nagged why I speak and act this way. While he is talking angrily nonstop the duchess is still on the bedside crying.

  How bothersome.

  While I'm thinking of a way to return to my body, the duke's rants faded out in my ears and I begin to only hear my own thoughts.

  Hooray to selective hearing.

  I close my eyes and begin to think when the door suddenly opens and the lady knight Alice came back with a man in his 40s wearing a long white gown, a sandals, a necklace with cross in his neck and he's clutching a black hard bounded book that seems to be a bible in his chest.

  "Duchess, duke, where is lady Amethyst?" Two of them glanced my way and also did the man who's clutching a bible in his chest is now approaching me in my chair.

  "My Lady how are you feeling right now? My name is Harold Dews a priest in the church. I healed you three days ago when you collapsed."

  Three days ago huh...

  "Why did I collapsed father?"

  The duke, the duchess and Alice is shocked when I spoke in a polite manner unlike a while ago when I was cursing the hell out of them.

  It's not like I can curse a priest you know.

  "It seems like you really don't remember. Never mind, I can tell you what happened."

  The priest explained that Amethyst collapsed three days ago due to the extreme stress and shock of being engaged to the crown prince of this kingdom.

  "Father did you say kingdom?"

  "Yes, Walter Kingdom under the reign of King Mathew Michaelis Walter."

  "...Right," I mutter.

  I rub my face slowly, then stop halfway when my hand feels... wrong. Smaller. Softer. Damn it.

  "So let me get this straight," I say, looking from the duke to the duchess. "I'm not in a hospital. I'm not in a movie set. I'm not hallucinating because I finally snapped."

  The duke hesitates. "You are in the capital estate of House Von Versailles."

  "Hah," I sigh. "I could've been a knight or a mercenary but a girl? That's fucked up." I mumbled to myself.

  The duchess steps closer, voice trembling but hopeful. "Amethyst, you worried us. Priest Harold here said your body was exhausted from refusing food and sleep."

  "Did she collapsed because the crown prince looks like a beast? Or did she get rejected by the crown prince?" I joked.

  The priest examines me then a soft yellow light emits from the priests hands directed to my head and proceeds to close his eyes to pray.

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  "Wait. What's that? Why is there a light coming out of your hands father? Is there a light bulb in your hands?"

  No wait.. a priest with yellow light in his hands while he prays.

  Oh fucking hell. I'm in a real deep shit.

  "Wasn't that magic?"

  "No My Lady, the crown prince is not a beast in fact, it's the opposite. He's handsome, very very handsome."

  Hah we have a fan right here. Hey crown prince throw us a finger heart will ya?

  "He's every noble women's dream. A perfect man. Aside that he's a crown prince, he's also a soldier who lead down our kingdom's army to victory from war with the enemy kingdom a year ago and he's also good with magic and with politics. He sure is the crown prince My Lady." Alice explained and I'm sure this woman like that guy.

  They just ignored me didn't they. I asked if that was magic.

  Never mind, information is more crucial.

  "Then why?" The priest walks back to the duke and duchess to explain that there is nothing wrong with me but the current situation is quite odd since I act different from a few days ago. The priest bows and retreats from the room after talking with the two.

  Alice glances at the duke and duchess to signal them that they should be the one to say it rather than her.

  The duke sighed.

  "You collapsed because you don't want to marry the crown prince because you said he doesn't want to

  marry you. We know how much you admired the crown prince but that broke your heart and insisted on cancelling the engagement."

  "Bah! What an ass." The duchess flinched.

  "The King made the arrangement himself. He was the one who wanted the crown prince to be wed to you."

  "Hmmm is the King the father or the brother?"

  "The King is the older brother."

  Hah, the King must felt threatened of his younger brother because he is respected and competent.

  What a bitch.

  ——

  To summarize the information of this whole fiasco, the King wants to marry the crown prince to Amethyst to leash him down, to keep him away from stealing political power from the King and for him to remain in the throne for long as he could.

  The King sees Amethyst's family as something indispensable but good enough to be kept around for support since the Versailles' estate is the main source of Aetherglass. Aetherglass is a naturally occurring crystalline mineral found only in a cave of the Versailles estate—formed where ley lines intersect unnaturally. It is a clear glass with faint blue veins that is said to be used as jewels by the nobles and a more stable material for enchantments than a normal mana crystal.

  The King wants to monopolize the Aetherglass in exchange of marrying off the daughter of the duke to his younger brother. The duke agreed but by the condition that they will be protected from monsters living inside the cave where the Aetherglass is and along with the whole estate by the Kingdom's soldiers.

  While the duke explained all of this, I was doing squats the whole time since I noticed that this girl's body is so weak and pale, skin like the color of an unseasoned potato left in a supply crate too long, muscles softer than overripe tomatoes you squeeze by accident, joints creaking like a poorly maintained Humvee, lungs working like a rusted air filter clogged with desert sand, and balance about as reliable as a rifle with a bent barrel—honestly, this body felt less like a soldier's and more like a peeled banana someone tried to send into combat, so I figured if I didn't start training immediately, I'd collapse faster than a folding chair under a full combat load.

  "I see. Let's go see the crown prince."

  "But he's still away on a monster subjugation mission."

  Knock. Knock.

  "My Lord, the crown prince is back from his mission." Announced a maid gasping for air.

  I smirked in the most evil way.

  Wait for me pretty boy.

  —

  Now in a dress wearing heels and jewelry, I climbed the carriage going to the palace.

  This is not new to me. I crossdressed before for a mission once in Vegas to subdue an organization kidnapping women to illegally harvest those women's eggs.

  Now that I think about it, since I was the only one with a slender build and a pretty face enough to look like a girl, my team teased me nonstop. They used to call me Princess.

  "Careful, Princess," Mark said, grinning, "don't trip over your own heels on the way to the target."

  Luis snorted. "Yeah, and make sure your crown doesn't fall off during the ambush."

  "Shut up, both of you," I snapped, trying to sound intimidating—but in heels, my balance was questionable at best.

  Sam laughed so hard he almost dropped his rifle. "You know, Princess, you're still the deadliest one of us. Just... deadly in stilettos."

  I glared at him. "Laugh now. Wait until I get my hands on you in hand-to-hand—then see who's pretty."

  They all just laughed harder.

  Bastards.

  I can't help but smile from the sudden memory yet I felt a pinch of sadness.

  "Good thing I made some calls before I came here."

  I look up to the sky and close my eyes remembering that I called people to help with my team's family before I went to the enemy's hideout.

  Luis' son would have a birthday, even if his father wasn't there. I arranged for funds and a caretaker to make sure the boy had a proper party—something normal in a world that had gone sideways.

  Mark's grandmother... she was stubborn, but she would eat well and be checked on. I had left instructions to make sure someone played cards with her every day, even if she refused.

  Raphael's dogs—I made sure they were delivered to a trusted handler who could train them and keep them safe. I remembered how he used to complain about the fur everywhere but loved them like family.

  And Sam... the youngest. I knew he dreamed about helping his parents build their own bakery someday so they wouldn't rent anymore. I left money and contacts for his parents so that dream might not completely die with him.

  It wasn't much. I couldn't bring them back. I couldn't stop the blood I spilled from staining their graves. But I could make sure the lives they loved... still had a chance.

  I open my eyes, feeling the warmth of doing what I could, even if it's small.

  "I kept my promise," I whisper. "I'll see you again... someday."

  Even in this new, strange body, even in a world that doesn't make sense, that part of me—the part that's Ethan—remains.

  I now arrive at the palace and I'm trying to act decent and princess-y as possible to not stain this woman's family's reputation.

  I was ushered by the palace's soldier and asked to wait here by the crown prince's office. Sitting here I could not help but look around. Then I saw a familiar item on his table.

  On the table, half-hidden under a velvet cloth, lay a familiar shape: a disassembled firearm.

  I froze. My fingers itched. Years of muscle memory kicked in before my mind even processed the surroundings. A Glock? No... custom grip, extended barrel. Still, standard enough that I knew every piece by feel.

  I picked it up. Slide, frame, magazine, barrel, spring, pins... each part cold and smooth beneath my fingers.

  First, I inserted the barrel into the frame. Snap.

  Then the recoil spring, compressed just right, clicking into place.

  Next, the magazine, sliding it home until it clicked audibly.

  Slide back, test the action. Smooth.

  Trigger pull. Safety off. Chamber empty, thank God.

  In under a minute, it was fully assembled, ready to fire. Every movement was instinct, every motion precise—like breathing.

  I put back the now assembled firearm to the table and covering it back with a cloth.

  Funny. Here I am, in some fragile girl's body with a dress and heels, and yet the tools of my old life feel... natural.

  I pace around the room, scanning the shelves. My fingers brush over a leather-bound tome etched with gold: The Tenfold Art of War.

  Not exactly light reading...

  I open it, skimming formations and tactical diagrams, smirking. Funny how some things—strategy, discipline, killing efficiently—never go out of style, no matter what world you're in.

  The door opened, revealing a man standing perfectly still, as if the room were his personal drill field.

  I didn't flinch, didn't move a muscle, just scanned.

  Tall. Lean, but deceptively solid—like a reinforced combat unit disguised in court finery. Every movement calculated. Shoulders relaxed but ready, posture perfect. Hands at his sides, but I knew he could snap into a strike in a heartbeat.

  Eyes sharp. Cold, assessing, measuring every inch of the room... and me.

  Face chiseled. Strong jawline. But nothing soft. No nonsense. No arrogance either—just controlled intensity. The kind that makes soldiers follow orders without thinking, because thinking might get them killed.

  Armor? No. Silk doublet, polished boots. But the stance, the subtle flex of fingers, the way he shifted weight—trained muscle memory everywhere. Hand-to-hand combat, probably weapons trained, maybe magic. Everything about him screams efficiency, lethal competence, and danger.

  So this is the crown prince huh.

  Amazing.

  My eyes lit up.

  I want to fight him in a hand-to-hand combat. I wanna know how strong he is.

  "Lady Amethyst Von Versailles. Tell me. Why are you here."

  Why is he looking at me sitting down like I'm a waste of his air.

  What a cheeky brat.