The carriage lurched, jolting me awake from a half-dream of warm mangu and rhythmic bachata. My shoulder slammed against the velvet seat—plush but itchy, even through the ridiculous layers of this pink monstrosity of a dress. "Blush rose," my mother had called it. Lies. It was a travesty in fabric form, and every scratchy seam screamed my discomfort—just one more indignity in a very long list.
I sighed, adjusting the suffocating layers of my skirt as the unfamiliar weight of the leather-cuffed smartwatch on my wrist pressed against my skin. Just yesterday, I was Maria Delgado, a college student, gamer, extraordinaire, and plantain connoisseur. My biggest problem had been trying to land a perfect parry against a final boss. Now? I was apparently a minor noblewoman en route to meet my fiancé—the Crown Prince of Veridia.
My fiancé. The word soured like bad yogurt in my mouth. I glanced out the window, hoping the scenery would distract me from my spiraling thoughts. Outside, the landscape rolled by in postcard perfection: emerald hills, thatched-roof cottages, and knights clanking by on horseback. It was like one of my RPGs had come to life—except there was no pause button, no save file.
The further we traveled, though, the more the idyllic scenery began to shift. The vibrant greens dulled, the fields giving way to barren patches of brown and yellow. Trees twisted into gnarled shapes, their leaves brittle and discolored. Empty farmhouses, their windows dark as hollowed eyes, dotted the horizon. The air turned heavy, charged with something that made the hairs on my arms prickle.
My smartwatch buzzed faintly against my wrist, a constant reminder of the absurdity of my current situation. As if on cue, a translucent window popped into view:
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Insight System
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Aura Reading: Active
Item Appraisal: Available
Skill Mimicry: Available
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Status: Overwhelmed, Itchy
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I stifled a groan. "Overwhelmed, Itchy." Really? The system had jokes now. I focused on the passing landscape, trying to activate Aura Reading. The world shifted, colors deepening, taking on a new, shimmering quality. The fields, once vibrant, now pulsed with a sickly gray and brown aura. Even the air seemed to shimmer with a faint, oily black sheen.
"The Blight," my father mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. He was staring out the window, his face etched with worry. He hadn't said much during the journey, his usual jovial nature replaced by a somber silence. His aura, normally a steady, comforting orange, was now a flickering, anxious mess of orange and murky green, reflecting his inner turmoil.
The corruption was visible even from here, miles away from the palace. It was like a creeping sickness, slowly poisoning the land. I'd heard whispers of it since my arrival in this bizarre, RPG-turned-reality world. Servants gossiping in hushed tones, snippets of conversations overheard at the market, even my own mother's worried frown whenever the subject was brought up. But seeing it firsthand was a different story altogether. The vibrant greens and blues of healthy land were replaced by the dull, lifeless hues of decay. It was a stark reminder that this wasn't just a game. There were real consequences, real dangers. A shiver ran down my spine, and I unconsciously adjusted the leather cuff of my smartwatch, the cool metal a strange comfort against my skin.
The carriage lurched to a halt, throwing me against the plush, velvet seat.
"We're here, Maria," my father said, his voice tight with forced cheer. He offered me his hand, his aura a swirling vortex of worry and forced optimism.
I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the frantic hammering of my heart. "Okay," I mumbled, "Let's get this over with." Showtime.
The footman, a lanky young man whose aura was a dull, resigned beige (probably from having to deal with all of the other nobles), opened the door. I stepped out, nearly tripping over the hem of the monstrous pink dress. I wobbled, flailed, and managed to stay upright, but my dignity took a fatal blow. I steadied myself with a hand on my leather-clad wrist, the faint hum of the smartwatch a familiar presence in this alien world.
Before me stood the Royal Palace, all gleaming white stone and imposing towers. It looked like something straight out of one of my games, except less pixelated and far more intimidating. Guards in polished armor stood at attention, their auras a cold, impenetrable steel gray. And at the top of the grand staircase, surrounded by a gaggle of richly dressed nobles, stood a figure who could only be him.
The Crown Prince.
My system, never one to miss an opportunity for drama, helpfully supplied a label above his head in a new window:
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Target: Crown Prince Alexander
of Veridia
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Aura: [ERROR: Unreadable]
Fluctuating Wildly
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His aura, however, was a chaotic mess. It flickered and pulsed with colors I'd never seen before, a swirling vortex of deep blues, vibrant greens, and flashes of something that looked alarmingly like molten gold. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once, like staring into a nebula. And it was spiking erratically, like a faulty internet connection. The system couldn't even process it, displaying an error message. Great, even my system was confused. Just great.
He was staring right at me.
My breath hitched. He was... well, he was gorgeous. Tall, with dark hair that fell over his forehead in a way that probably took hours to perfect, and eyes that were such a deep blue they almost looked black. He was the kind of beautiful that made you want to simultaneously punch him in his perfect face and ask him for his skincare routine.
But his expression was completely unreadable. His aura was a storm, and his face was a mask. I tried to take another step forward, only to realize my legs had decided to stage a revolt. They wobbled, threatening to send me sprawling at the feet of the most powerful man in the kingdom.
"¡Coño!" I blurted out, the curse escaping my lips before I could stop it. I mentally face-palmed. Smooth, Maria. Real smooth.
The word echoed through the silent courtyard. Every head turned towards me.
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Target: Assorted Nobles
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Aura: Shock (Purple)
Confusion (Gray)
Disdain (Muddy Brown)
Amusement (Light Pink)
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My cheeks burned. I wanted to vanish. To teleport back to my old life, even if it meant facing another power surge. Anything would be better than this.
Then, a low chuckle broke the silence. It was coming from the Prince. He threw back his head, and his shoulders shook with laughter.
His aura pulsed, and for a moment, just a moment, the system managed to capture a reading:
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Target: Crown Prince Alexander
of Veridia
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Aura: Yellow (Amusement)
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I saw a flash of genuine amusement, a bright, sunny yellow that cut through the chaotic mess.
Great, I thought. I'm not just a clumsy, Spanish-spewing peasant. I'm also the court jester. I pulled out my gaming journal, a small, leather-bound book filled with notes about Aethelhum and other games, and scribbled a quick note: Day 1 in Veridia: Officially the court jester. Success?
This was going to be a disaster. A hilarious, humiliating, potentially life-ending disaster. And it was only just beginning.
The Prince's laughter subsided, but the amusement lingered in his aura, a vibrant yellow amidst the swirling chaos. He descended the grand staircase, his movements fluid and graceful, like a predator stalking its prey. My stomach did a nervous flip-flop.
As he approached, the crowd of nobles parted like the Red Sea, their auras a kaleidoscope of emotions, ranging from curiosity (a pale, shimmering blue) to disdain (a muddy, unpleasant brown). I could feel their eyes on me, scrutinizing, judging.
My father stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Your Highness," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "May I present my daughter, Maria." He gestured towards me with a hand that wasn't quite steady.
The Prince stopped in front of me, his gaze intense. I resisted the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. His blue eyes seemed to bore into my soul, or at least into my aura.
Suddenly, a woman with a severe expression and a sharp, angular face stepped forward, her aura practically radiating disapproval—a vibrant, angry red that made me want to take a step back. She was older, with streaks of silver in her dark hair, and her dress, though elegant, screamed old money and even older prejudices.
"Your Highness," she said, her voice dripping with a cold formality that sent shivers down my spine. "Perhaps it would be best if I escorted Lady Maria to her chambers. She must be weary from her journey, and there are certain... protocols that need to be addressed before the official betrothal ceremony."
The way she said "Lady Maria" made it sound like an insult, like she was calling me a particularly unpleasant species of insect. My jaw clenched. I might be new to this whole noblewoman thing, but I wasn't about to be pushed around by some stuck-up aristocrat, no matter how fancy her aura was.
Before I could retort, however, the Prince spoke. "That won't be necessary, Lady Beatrice," he said, his voice smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of steel that made even Lady Beatrice pause. "I believe Lady Maria is capable of finding her own way." He turned his gaze to me, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Unless, of course, she requires my assistance?"
The subtle challenge in his voice was unmistakable. My chin lifted. "I think I can manage, Your Highness," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady. "But thank you for the offer."
Lady Beatrice's aura flared with that angry red again, but she merely inclined her head, a tight, forced smile plastered on her face. "As you wish, Your Highness," she said, her tone suggesting she wished anything but.
The Prince then turned back to me, that unreadable expression back on his face. "Welcome to the Royal Court, Lady Maria. I trust your journey was not too... eventful?"
He emphasized the last word, and I had the distinct feeling he already knew about my less-than-graceful arrival, and probably about the coño incident, too. My cheeks, if it were possible, burned even hotter.
"It was... memorable, Your Highness," I managed to say, offering him a small, awkward curtsy. I wobbled precariously, my ankle twisting beneath me, and I had to grab the railing to avoid falling flat on my face. So much for dignity.
A low chuckle escaped the Prince's lips, and his aura pulsed again with that flash of yellow amusement. He offered me his arm, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Perhaps," he said, his voice softer now, almost kind, "we should continue this conversation inside, where it's less... breezy."
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then placed my hand on his arm, ignoring the way my heart skipped a beat at the contact. His aura flared, the chaotic colors swirling faster, but amidst the storm, that bright yellow of amusement remained, a beacon in the whirlwind. This was going to be interesting.
As I placed my hand on his arm, a faint, unexpected jolt, like static electricity, passed between us. It wasn't painful, just... surprising. I instinctively pulled my hand back, but not before noticing the slight widening of the Prince's eyes, a flicker of something that might have been surprise in their depths. He recovered quickly, though, his expression smoothing back into that unreadable mask.
"Shall we?" he said, gesturing towards the grand palace doors.
"Lead the way, Your Highness," I replied, trying to ignore the lingering tingle in my fingertips and the sudden, inexplicable flutter in my chest. What was that about?
As we walked towards the palace, I could feel the eyes of the assembled nobles on us, their auras a swirling mix of curiosity, envy, and speculation. Lady Beatrice, I noticed, was watching us with a particularly intense glare, her aura practically vibrating with that angry red, tinged with something darker, something that made me uneasy. I made a mental note to avoid her as much as possible.
The Prince, seemingly oblivious to the scrutiny, led me through the palace doors and into a vast, opulent entrance hall. My jaw dropped. It was even more impressive on the inside. Towering marble columns, intricate frescoes depicting scenes of heroic battles and mythical creatures, stained glass windows that cast kaleidoscopic patterns on the polished floor... it was like stepping into a level of one of my favorite RPGs, only far more detailed and a lot less pixelated.
"Impressed?" the Prince asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"You could say that," I admitted, still gaping at the sheer grandeur of it all. "It's a bit much, though, isn't it? All this gold and marble. Back home, we prefer things a bit more... understated." I gestured to my simple smartwatch, now disguised as a leather bracelet.
He glanced at my wrist, his gaze lingering on the leather band for a moment longer than necessary. "Understated is not a word often used to describe the Veridian court," he said, a wry smile playing on his lips. "But I suppose it has its charms."
We continued through the palace, the Prince guiding me through a labyrinth of corridors and hallways. Each room we passed was more lavish than the last, filled with priceless artwork, antique furniture, and enough gold trim to make Fort Knox look like a discount store. I tried to appear nonchalant, as if I were used to such extravagant surroundings, but on the inside, I was freaking out. My system kept helpfully providing information on the various objects we passed, labeling them with descriptions like "Ornate Gold Candlestick (Probably Worth More Than Your College Tuition)" and "Ancient Tapestry (Slightly Moth-Eaten, Still Ridiculously Expensive)."
As we walked, I noticed the Prince seemed to be subtly scanning our surroundings, his gaze constantly moving, as if he were searching for something. Or someone. He also seemed to be avoiding the more populated areas, sticking to less frequented corridors and hallways. It was as if he were trying to avoid being seen. Or maybe, I thought with a sudden jolt of paranoia, he was trying to avoid being seen with me.
"So," I said, breaking the silence, "where exactly are we going?"
"To my chambers," he replied, his voice surprisingly neutral. "It's the most secure location in the palace. And," he added, with a hint of a smile, "the least likely place for us to be overheard."
His chambers. Right. Because that wasn't a loaded phrase at all. My stomach did another nervous flip-flop. This was all happening so fast. One minute I was a ordinary college student, the next I was being whisked off to the private chambers of a ridiculously handsome, and potentially dangerous, crown prince. My life had officially become stranger than any video game I'd ever played.
As we approached a pair of intricately carved wooden doors, flanked by two guards whose auras were, unsurprisingly, still an impenetrable steel gray, the Prince stopped.
"Before we go in," he said, his voice low, "there's something you should know."
He turned to face me, his expression serious, his blue eyes intense. The chaotic energy of his aura seemed to settle for a moment, the swirling colors coalescing into a more focused, determined pattern.
"My name," he said, "is Alexander. But that's not who I truly am. Not originally, at least." He paused, as if searching for the right words. "I'm from a different world. A place called Earth. And," he added, his gaze fixed on mine, "I have reason to believe that you are, too."
My breath hitched. He knew. He knew I was from Earth. But how?
He gestured towards the leather band on my wrist, a knowing look in his eyes. "That's no ordinary bracelet, is it, Lady Maria? It's a piece of technology, from our world. A smartwatch, to be precise. And I suspect it's connected to something far more complex."
My mind raced. He knew about the watch, about Earth, about... everything? How was that possible?
Before I could formulate a response, the doors to his chambers swung open, revealing a spacious, lavishly decorated room. But it wasn't the opulent furnishings or the priceless artwork that caught my attention. It was the faint, almost imperceptible hum of energy that seemed to emanate from the room itself. It felt familiar.
"Welcome," Alex said, a hint of irony in his voice, "to my humble abode." He paused, then added, with a wry smile, "And to the beginning of a very complicated conversation."
He stepped inside, gesturing for me to follow. As I crossed the threshold, a new window popped up in my system interface, a single, stark message that sent a shiver down my spine:
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WARNING: UNKNOWN ENERGY
SIGNATURE DETECTED.
PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
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This was it, then. The beginning of the "complicated conversation." And judging by the warning from my system, it was going to be a lot more than just a conversation. It was going to be a revelation. And I had a feeling my life, already turned upside down, was about to get a whole lot more complicated. I stepped inside, ready or not, for whatever awaited me.