She's the Prince

Chapter 2

The Mirror's Deception: Aria Becomes Ares

Aria's heart pounded wildly in her chest—or rather, in his chest—as she paced around the small bathroom. The cold tiles beneath her bare feet anchored her to reality, but even that wasn't enough to quell the dizziness swirling inside her head. How did this happen? She stared down at her hands—Prince Ares's hands—and without thinking, brought a nail to her teeth, biting at it in her usual nervous habit.

Except... the nail was already too short, and the bite sent a sharp sting through her.

"Ow! What the—" She examined the well-manicured hand in disbelief. "He doesn't even have enough nails to bite! Is this guy allergic to stress?"

A loud knock on the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts, startling her.

"Prince Ares, are you alright in there?" a gruff voice called from the hallway.

Aria flinched at the name. Prince Ares? Right. She was in his body. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed her worst fears. There he was—broad-shouldered, muscular, and annoyingly flawless. She leaned closer, squinting at the reflection. His scars, his perfect skin... even his rugged jawline exuded charm.

None of it was comforting.

"No, no, no... This cannot be happening," she muttered, running a hand over her—his—jaw, her fingers brushing against light stubble. "Is this... beard stubble? Am I supposed to shave now? How do you even do that?"

Panic rising, she slapped her face, half-expecting to wake from the nightmare. But the sharp sting only made it worse. Her eyes dropped lower, tracing the muscular, lean frame. Why is he so... smooth? She had expected body hair—this was a man's body, after all—but there was none. Not even on the legs.

"Is he a royal or a dolphin?" she muttered, incredulous. "Where's the hair? Do princes not get hairy? Does he spend hours at a fancy spa or something? Oh my God... am I going to have to do that too?"

Her gaze shot downwards. "Wait a minute..."

The reality of what lay beneath the tunic hit her like a ton of bricks. She swallowed hard, her face heating with both horror and curiosity. Do I dare?

The knocking resumed, louder this time. "Prince Ares, Lord Zodor is waiting," a female voice called out.

Lord Zodor? Aria's breath hitched. Could this "Lord Zodor" know something? Or worse, could her family be trapped here too? She pressed a hand to her—Ares's—chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart, but the sensation of a firm, broader chest only made things weirder.

With a deep breath, she yanked the door open, almost pulling it off its hinges with her unfamiliar strength. Two servants, Samiya and Alora, stood just outside, concern etched on their faces. Across the room stood an older man—Lord Zodor—whose stern yet faintly warm expression softened when their eyes met.

"Ares, my son," the man greeted, his voice losing its edge.

Aria froze like a deer caught in headlights. Son? She glanced at the servants, her mind racing. Play it cool. Wait, how do guys stand again? Feet apart? One hand on the hip? She tried to strike a casual pose, but it felt like a parody of a superhero stance.

Samiya gave her a subtle nod, urging her to respond. Say something!

"Ares, is something wrong?" Lord Zodor's brow furrowed.

Aria swallowed hard, feeling the unfamiliar motion of an Adam's apple bobbing in her throat. Gross. Focus, Aria. She darted a glance at Samiya and Alora, hoping for a hint, but their anxious expressions offered no help.