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Elianora quickly lowered her gaze, restoring her mask of flawless composure, and stepped back as the rules required.
— Your Highness, — she said, her voice soft but slightly quieter than before. — Thank you for the honor of this conversation.
She curtsied again, perfectly, preparing to leave. Her father gave a approving nod, already moving to offer his hand to escort her away, but I—
— Lady Elianora, — the words escaped before I could stop them. — If I may...
Elianora’s father raised an eyebrow slightly but remained silent. Several pairs of eyes nearby discreetly turned toward us — continuing a conversation with a lady who had already been presented was... unusual.
My father, King Alen, watching me from a distance, met my gaze. But to my surprise, he only gave a slight nod. Tonight was a celebration, and even a prince was permitted to bend the rules — a little.
— I would like to take a short walk, — I added calmly, speaking both to the duke and my father before turning directly to Elianora. — Lady, would you care to join me?
I tried to sound gentle, but it probably came off almost like a command. After all, I was a prince. Yet it did not break etiquette.
— Of course, Your Highness, — Elianora curtsied once more, her lashes trembling slightly, yet her poise remained impeccable.
She placed her hand lightly on mine, just as custom dictated. Her fingers were cool, and with each step, I could feel the tension between us rising.
I led her toward one of the side galleries, hidden behind the columns. The music of the ball drifted faintly, softened by the thick stone walls. The magical crystals in the lanterns glowed with a dim, bluish light, casting soft shadows on the marble floor. The space was private enough, yet if anyone approached, their footsteps would echo in time for us to react.
Elianora walked beside me, her steps soft yet precise, as if rehearsed a hundred times over. But now, seeing her up close, I noticed how her shoulders were just a touch tenser than suited a lady so flawless.
I stopped and released her hand.
It felt so strange. And yet so impossible. Could it really be...
At that moment, Elianora turned toward me, and the cold dignity in her eyes was gone. Her gaze narrowed, lips trembling slightly.
— What... what did you just say? — Her voice was quiet but strained, slipping into lower, raspier notes that didn't match her previous elegance.
But that wasn't what shocked me the most.
She had spoken in English.
I barely held my breath, heart pounding faster.
— You... you understand me? — I whispered slowly, also in English, watching her face closely.
Elianora froze. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with suspicion.
— Who are you? — her voice dropped lower, tighter, as if the words were difficult to force out. Gone was the perfect aristocratic intonation.
I swallowed hard.
— I... I'm Michael Stevenson, — I exhaled, clenching my jaw, then added bitterly, — New York. Mr. Caldwell’s class. Algebra test.
Silence.
Elianora stood still. Her lips parted, gaze flicking over my face as though trying to match my words with the figure before her — a prince, dressed in a doublet embroidered with silver, royal crests shining on my chest, chin held high.
And then—
— W-what?!
A loud, almost hoarse laugh burst from her, so sudden and sharp that I blinked, stepping back in confusion.
She buried her face in her hands and... laughed. Loudly, openly, so unexpectedly that her voice echoed through the gallery, nearly drowning out the music from the ballroom.
Elianora — though now I was certain that wasn't her real name — kept laughing, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as if I had just told the funniest joke of her life. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of her corset, her shoulders shaking as she doubled over, clutching her stomach.
— M-Michael? You? — she choked out between fresh bursts of laughter. — A prince?! The fucking third prince? I mean, come on... — she wheezed again, struggling to catch her breath, even wiping the corner of her eye with a shaky hand. — YOU?!
Slowly, very slowly, I furrowed my brows.
— Hey, actually—
She raised a hand, cutting me off, still fighting her uncontrollable laughter.
— S-sorry... sorry, just... — She straightened, inhaling sharply. — You were... God, you couldn’t even hit the basket in gym class, and now... a prince? The doublet, the manners, the bows? This is... what is this, a comedy?
I felt my ears burning.
But that laugh, that way of speaking — there was no mistaking it.
— David? — I whispered, blinking. — It... it’s you, isn’t it?
Her laughter gradually faded, but a smirk remained on her lips, though now there was something sharper behind it. Something almost painful.
She stepped closer, eyes boring into mine with such intensity it sent a shiver down my spine.
— Yeah, Michael. It’s me, — her voice — no, his voice — was rougher now, the aristocratic polish completely gone. — Damn, this is... weird.
I didn’t know what to say. The entire evening, the ceremony, the pomp of the royal court — it all seemed to fade in the face of what I had just discovered.
Standing before me was my best friend from the old world... in the body of a noble lady, with that same sharpness in their gaze that I knew too damn well.
— How... how is this possible? — I whispered, heart racing. — Why—
— You think I know? — David’s — or rather, Elianora’s — voice cracked with frustration. — I woke up as a freaking baby in some noble mansion, and as if that wasn’t enough—
She threw up her hands, voice rising.
— Do you have any idea how messed up it was to realize I’d become a girl?! Lady Elianora Worthwing, eldest daughter of one of the most powerful dukes! — She gave an exaggerated, sarcastic curtsy, rolling her eyes. — And then came the cursed etiquette lessons, the dancing, the corsets, the damn magical crystals!