Just let me sleep!

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The sway of the carriage stirred a strange sense of déjà vu in me, like stepping into a memory I hadn't lived, well, at least, not in this lifetime.

The week leading up to it had been draining. The Duke and his son had taken turns trying to persuade me, with veiled concern and outright commands, trying to chain me to stay in the 'comfort' of the Trumane estate. As if I'd ever agree.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back into the firm cushions, exhaling like a man burdened with mouths to feed, not a girl in borrowed skin.

"Young master, are you feeling unwell?"

The voice came from across the cabin, rough, but careful, like someone trained to sound kinder than they naturally were, yet there was curious gentleness.

[ Who are you again? ]

I lifted a brow and gave the speaker a discreet once-over. He had the sort of face that was easy to forget in a crowd. Brown eyes, short brown hair, all styled neatly. His uniform was simple, dark grey, carrying the silver crest of House Trumane on the shoulder. Polished, loyal, replaceable.

He blinked his eyes away under my gaze. His mouth opened, hesitated, closed.
Then finally.

"I'm Richard. Assigned knight to the young master."

"There aren't any k... " I paused, looking him up and down, choosing my words. "..staff permitted in the Pastra Kingdom."

"I'm not staff, technically. I'm here to ensure your safety during the journey."

I stared at him, letting the silence stretch and his confidence crumble.

"Is that so."
"Yes, young master."

Another pause.

"Well, are you feeling un-"
"No."
"...Okay."

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Even with the help of a teleportation point, a shimmering portal gate that carved through distance like slicing cloth that was an hour away from Trumane estate, the trip was exhausting. Magic had its conveniences, but it never spared you the fatigue of being moved.

"We are here."

The knight jolted awake, blinking in confusion. He seemed surprised to discover he'd dozed off. I didn't answer. My gaze had been fixed outside the window for some time now, watching the foreign landscape unfold ike a painting done in gold and pastel.

"Mm."

"Wipe the drool before you nod"

He wiped his lips and chin instantly.

________________________________

Pastra looked like it belonged in a storybook, the kind written in gold ink and whispered into prayer. The village that stretched before us was dainty, nearly insincere in its perfection. White cobbled paths twisted between clean, flowering gardens. Trees bloomed in colours. At the heart of it all, a pale marble palace loomed. Delicate and unreal, its spires glinting beneath the sun like polished bone. It was beautiful, but in the way sacred places often were, so pristine it hurt to look at. Holy magic clung to the air, too divine, too bright. Like perfume you couldn't wash off.

My hand moved, almost instinctively, to brush my hair back from my shoulder, just to freeze mid-motion.

[Right. I'm... a boy now.]

No matter how many times I reminded myself, it never stopped feeling strange. It was truly hard to get used to. Becoming someone else would be easier than becoming a different gender.

The main gate to the kingdom loomed just a few feet ahead of the teleportation port, guarded by two silent figures. They stood like statues, dressed in flowing white robes. Their hoods were drawn high, shadowing their faces. Silver emblems glimmered at their shoulders—thin, skeletal wings etched in metal, catching the sun like a quiet threat, a warning perhaps.

I moved to step out, but Richard beat me to it. He leapt from the carriage with unnecessary flair, eyes sweeping the surroundings like a man expecting an ambush in a flower field. Then he turned to me, his expression full of purpose and determination.

"Young Master."

For a brief, foolish moment, I thought he was offering a hand to help me step down, perhaps.

He was not

Without warning, he reached out, holding me by the waist, and effortlessly lifted me from the carriage like I weighed nothing at all.

"Excuse me," he said, entirely unbothered as he set me down on the solid ground of the Pastra Kingdom.

"..."
[...]

The silence that followed was heavy and immediate. Even the robed figures shifted awkwardly. One of them coughed.

I cleared my throat too—not to hide my embarrassment, of course. Just to break the silence. Clearly.

I turned toward the gate, prepared to reclaim some measure of dignity, when Richard called out to me again.

"Shall I carry you the rest of the way, young master?"

[Is he an only child?]

"No."
"...Okay,"

He murmured and followed after me, the weight of disappointment practically dragging in his boots.