My heart sank. A speech? I hadn't prepared for that. My mind went blank as all eyes turned to me, waiting expectantly. Slowly, I stood up, gripping the edge of the throne for balance.
"Thank you for today's party," I began, my voice shaky. "And for attending this celebration."
I paused, desperately trying to think of more, but nothing came to mind. "Please enjoy the party," I finished quickly, sitting down before I made things worse.
The room was silent for a few moments before a polite murmur of approval rippled through the crowd. I glanced at the Queen, who gave me a small, reassuring nod. Relief washed over me as the guests began to move toward the dining hall, their focus shifting away.
Seated on the throne beside the royal family, I watched as guests approached one by one to present their gifts. I followed the Queen's lead, nodding politely and offering a soft smile. A man in uniform, likely a butler, announced each guest with precision.
"Sir Reginald, the King's counselor," he called as an older man stepped forward, bowing slightly before presenting a carved wooden box.
Next came a younger man, announced as "Lord Alexander, son of the King's counselor and tutor to Her Highness, Princess Seraphine."
I stiffened. My tutor? He couldn't have been much older than twenty, with a calm, composed demeanor and warm eyes. He handed me a leather-bound book, and I accepted it with a smile. "Thank you," I said softly. He nodded, a small smile on his lips.
Behind him stood a boy about my size, likely Seraphine's age. He stared at me with a sharp, unfriendly look, his expression skeptical.
As the gifts piled up, a servant stepped forward to take them from me, but I waved him off. "It's okay; I can do it myself," I said, feeling it was a simple enough task.
The Queen intervened gently. "Let her," she told the servant, who reluctantly stepped back.
I realized how odd this must seem. The real Seraphine probably never bothered with something like this. She was born into royalty and had everything done for her. I could tell by the curious looks some people gave me.
After the last gift—a pair of beautifully crafted leather shoes—the King stood. "Let us enjoy supper in the dining hall," he announced.
I sighed in relief as the focus shifted again. The royal family led the way to a smaller, raised table overlooking the grand hall. The table was set for us alone, separate from the guests, who now served themselves from the long banquet tables.
Sitting between the King and Queen, I felt out of place in the ornate chair meant for a princess. Servants moved gracefully around us, pouring drinks and setting plates of food.
"You did well, Seraphine," the Queen said quietly, her voice kind. "I know it's overwhelming, but you handled it with grace."
I nodded, grateful for her support even though my nerves still lingered.
The King smiled at me, his expression warm. "A fine speech, short and to the point."
Was he teasing? I wasn't sure, but I managed a small smile back.
As the room buzzed with conversation and laughter, I started to relax a little. Maybe, just maybe, I could figure this out and make it work.
The Queen leaned closer, patting my hand. "This is your day. Enjoy it."
That little boy was sitting besides the princess tutor, He looked at me unfriendly, and raised his eyebrows slightly, I think it's only me who saw it
While we were eating, other people kept trying to get the attention of the king, and wisely the king responded to it every single one.
"Didn't Helena give you the birthday dress?" asked the queen in sudden,
I tried to come up with an excuse. Honestly this morning I wasn't in the right mind to think about the dress, and I still am not.
"Yes Mother, but I liked this color today."
"A black dress? I thought you hated this dress." I smiled politely, trying to come up with something believable. "I want to try something new."
Hearing my reply the queen frowned a little bit, then smiled.
"My daughter grew up so well." She took my baby hair and tucked it to the back of my ear, just like a usual mother used to do for her daughter. A usual thing that I have never had in my real body. And looked like this new body that I had is used to accepting this mother's love.
I focus on eating, of course while copying the way the royal family eats. They use many kinds of different cutlery, and every time I want to eat a new dish, I wait for the queen to eat first, so I know which cutlery to use for each dish.
My focus shifted to the guests. Everyone seemed cheerful—except for that boy from earlier. I noticed him again, He was still glaring at me. His expression didn't change as our eyes met, and he didn't even try to hide it. I turned away but could still feel his stare.
"What?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. The people around me were startled.
"What.. What are you wearing?" I continued my words, so I won't be labeled as a rude princess to the guests. I drastically changed my tone, "It looked mesmerizing." Trying to come up with something, I complimented this boy outfit.
It wasn't. His outfit was simple, almost plain.
He didn't hide his amusement, smirking wider. "Of course, it's fine. Not like yours," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your dress looks like mourning attire. I thought today was a funeral—"
"Aldric!" Alexander interrupted, scolding him with a sharp look. "Be polite to the princess."
He whispered something to the boy called Aldric, then Aldric still with the same hateful expression mumbled something, "I'm sorry for my words, princess."
"Your face, Aldric." warned Alexander to his brother, hearing that Aldric's mouth smiled but his eyes did not. He looked similar to Chucky, with the same scary smile.
I almost burst out laughing but I was still able to suppress it, I think the only one who noticed it was Aldric, cause his smile disappeared seeing my face.
"It's fine," I said, keeping my tone light. "He's just a kid." I regretted the comment instantly, realizing I was technically a kid too.
But I didn't have time to dwell on it. My mind was racing with more significant concerns—where and when I was.
Leaning toward the Queen, I whispered, "Mother, how old were you when you met Father?"
She smiled softly, her eyes distant. "I was fifteen, and your father was seventeen."
I feigned amazement. "That's so long ago! How many years has it been?"
"Let's see... It was the year 1638," she mused. "So it's been fifteen years."
1638 plus fifteen. My breath caught. That meant this was the year 1653.
Almost 400 years before 2024.
How could I possibly go back?
After lunch, the Queen suggested I join the other children in the garden—sons and daughters of the guests, many from neighboring countries. But my thoughts remain elsewhere, stuck on the impossible reality of my situation.
Was this my life now?