Becoming the Crown Prince's personal chef should have felt like an honor to me.
Instead... it felt like a noose tightening slowly around my neck, while choking me.
I had thought I could be employed as an ordinary chef just assisting with the preparation of the royal meals for the royal household without being noticed and become invisible to others until I can find my way back to my own world and life..."Not like this." I muttered to myself.
On my first official day, after filling my stomach with enough food, a maiden led me through an endless maze of polished stone hallways until we reached the staff quarters. The palace was enormous... that is, too enormous. Every footstep echoed, every whisper lingered, and every passing guard felt like an executioner waiting to catch me slipping.
"This will be your room, Young Master Daniel," a maiden who is also a sevant in the palace,said politely while blushing.
Young Master.
I nearly snorted.
If only she knew I was a woman like her stuffed inside stolen male clothes, she would faint on the spot.
The servant slid the wooden door open, and I stepped into a surprisingly neat space...There was a small bed, a writing table, a basin, and shelves for clothes I didn't have.
But the strangest part of it was that...
They placed me in the upper servant corridor, reserved only for those who serve the royal family directly. Not near the kitchens. Not near the other cooks.
It was Too close to the royal family quarters...making me too expose which can be more dangerous for me.
I waited until the servant bowed and left with a smile on her reddish face, then I closed the door before dropping onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
"This is insane," I whispered into my palms. "How long can I keep this up?"
Bathing here would always be like a nightmare.
Speaking without slipping into my modern slang...another nightmare.
Keeping my chest bound and my voice low like a real man would...another nightmare.
And then there was Prince Arthur.
Just thinking of him alone made my stomach twist into knots. Why did he look at me like he was peeling a back layers of a mystery?
Why... did he feel familiar in a terrifying way?
I shook the thought away and began exploring my new "home."
The palace routine was rigid enough to suffocate someone, with the way the Steward explained the palace routine to me...
Servants woke up before dawn.
Meals were served at exact times.
Every task was documented and reported.
And everyone watched everyone else.
By afternoon, the gossip had already spread:
"The new chef got promoted too fast."
"I heard the prince actually praised him."
"Impossible...His Highness hates everyone."
"He must be hiding something."
"He smells different... doesn't he?"
"He looks abnormal to me"
"He is not supposed to be promoted that fast,so annoying"
"What's even special about the food he prepared...was it that delicious?"
"I don't think so...Maybe he's the type the prince likes..."
I nearly tripped when I overheard that last statement.
Absolutely not.
I was not about to be the palace's next scandal...not happening.
I kept my head low, and my voice lower, while trying to mimic the posture and the mannerisms of the men around me...like my shoulders were broad, my steps looked firm, and my gaze was forward with my face looking more serious than ever.
Still... I could feel their stares burning into me through my back.
With their Jealousy,Curiosity, and their Suspicion on me.
Any of those could kill me.
Later that evening, I found a quiet corner behind the kitchen...my first moment of solitude since my arrival in this palace.
I lifted my hand, staring at my fingers. Annabelle's fingers. Looking so Small, slender, and delicate. Nothing like the ones I grew up with.
"Why did I end up here?" I murmured.
Time travel wasn't supposed to be real...and Body swapping wasn't either. Even though My life had been logical, and predictable...But until now,it wasn't.
I closed my eyes and tried remembering the moment before death. The truck. The screams. The flash of light. The sensation of falling.The collapsing into consciousness.
And then waking up in this broken, bruised body.
Was it fate?
Was it punishment?
Was it someone's plan?
A breeze drifted through the courtyard, brushing against my cheeks and reminding me that despite everything, I was alive. Like Somehow alive.
But for how long?
Tomorrow I would cook for the prince again...maybe with him up close.
Tomorrow I would risk every second of me getting caught.
Tomorrow the disguise might tear at any slightest mistake I might make
I straightened my clothes, squared my shoulders, and forced a steady breath.
"Irene or Annabelle... Daniel is the only one who can survive here."
If I wanted to live long enough to find answers... I had to protect Daniel with everything I had.
Even if that meant walking beside fire every single day.
