𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒' 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐃𝐎𝐆 | 𝘷𝘢𝘥𝘵𝘥 𝘹 𝘔.𝘺/𝘯 |

⋆.˚✮ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ✮˚.⋆

"........," 

The specks of dust danced in the single ray of sunlight that dared pierce the curtains of my window.

My "apartment" was a generous term for a shoebox, but after a long while in the orphanage, it felt like a palace.

Freedom, the kind bought with three soul-sucking part-time jobs, tasted sweeter than any stolen candy.

All I needed was to apologize to my twin sister, and together, we'd rewrite our happily-ever-after.

Except fate, it seemed, had a different chapter in mind.

"Your Grace,"

A voice rumbled like distant thunder.

A man, with the kind of guarded expression that could curdle milk, stood before me.

He wore a uniform that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, and his eyes darted around the room like a trapped animal.

"An Invitation from the Imperial Palace,"

he muttered, holding out a red envelope.

"Should I… burn it, like always?"

Before I could answer, a translucent screen materialized in the air, displaying three options in stark black text.

It felt like a bad fever dream.

1-¦|Should I tell you, hmm? Foolish filthy commoner.

2-¦|(Strangle him) You dare interrupt me for just this?!

3-¦|The Royal Palace, you say...?

Before I could form a coherent thought, the words on the screen echoed in my voice as my hand slipped, pressing one, a horrifying puppet show.

"The Royal Palace, you say...?"

I parroted, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

Panic clawed at my throat.

What the actual heck was happening?

The world dissolved into a blur.

One moment I was in the campus, the next I was surrounded by strangers in clothes that looked like they belonged in a museum.

My head swam, and a faint echo of nausea tickled the back of my throat.

"Yes, Your Grace," the butler rasped, head bowed. "His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince, requests a personal audience."

Before I could process anything, another screen materialized, taunting me with my predicament:

1-¦|Do not reply, and simply throw it away.

2-¦|You may stand, put it on my desk, and leave.

3-¦|(Throw the nearest vase at him) Screw it! This jerk isn't seeing me anytime soon.

Thinking fast, I jabbed at option two, hoping to buy some time.

"Understood," he snapped, putting the elegant envelope down and disappearing with ninja-like efficiency.

'What's wrong with this guy?!'

I fumed silently.

But bigger problems loomed.

Where was I?

Who was this prince guy?

Was I stuck in some bizarre alternate reality where I was suddenly a Duke?