Cassian stood by the window, back straight, hands clasped like a soldier awaiting orders — or hiding something far more dangerous.
Jace cleared his throat.
"Cassian."
The knight turned instantly. "Yes, my prince?"
Jace hesitated. He tried to keep his tone steady — like a prince. Like someone used to being obeyed.
"I… want to visit the library."
Cassian blinked once. "The library?"
There was a beat of silence — not long, but long enough to stretch.
"What for, my prince?"
Jace looked away. "Do I need a reason?"
Cassian studied him for a moment, unreadable. Then, with a faint nod:
"No, Your Highness. Of course not."
He crossed the room with quiet precision, pausing near the foot of the bed.
"When you're ready, I'll escort you. It's still early. You may wish to freshen up first."
"Right," Jace said, almost automatically.
Cassian didn't move.
Still watching.
Still waiting.
Jace stood awkwardly. His legs still felt too long. His shoulders too broad. He was wearing Jun's body, but it felt like armor that didn't quite fit.
"I'll only be a minute," he said, hoping that sounded princely.
Cassian inclined his head. "Take your time."
He turned and walked out — footsteps echoing softly on polished stone.
Jace exhaled. The door clicked shut behind him.
Jace stepped into the adjoining bathroom and froze.
It was like something out of a fantasy hotel — if such a thing existed.
The marble floor was warm underfoot, and gold fixtures curved like vines over a porcelain tub. But what caught his eye was the shower. Or... what looked kind of like a shower. A glowing orb was embedded in the handle, humming softly with light. A rune circle floated just above it, shifting faintly like it was alive.
> "Okay. Magic plumbing. Sure. Why not."
He reached for the handle and winced — but instead of freezing cold or scalding hot water, a gentle stream poured down at exactly the right temperature.
> "Wait… did it read my body temp? What the hell."
It was weird. But also kind of… nice.
He found soap in a crystal dish — lavender-scented, way too fancy for someone who used to buy whatever was cheapest in a plastic bottle. The water rinsed him clean faster than he expected, like the magic knew when he was done.
When he stepped out, soft towels were already stacked neatly nearby — probably replaced every morning without him even noticing.
> "Okay. This is insane. But… also? Kinda elite."
He dried off and stepped into the adjoining closet — and immediately backed up a little.
It was massive.
Velvets, silks, brocade jackets, ruffled tunics, high boots, gloves, jewelry — too much. There were whole outfits just for walking around a garden, based on the labeled sections.
> "Do I need a fashion degree just to get dressed here?"
He sighed and picked the simplest outfit he could find — a navy tunic, clean white undershirt, soft black trousers, and boots that didn't require a servant to lace them.
A mirror near the closet caught his reflection.
Prince Jun stared back.
The body fit him now. Technically. But it still didn't feel like his. Not yet.
> "I don't know how long I'll last in this role… but I'll make it work," he murmured. "Somehow."
He stepped back into the main room just as the door opened.
Cassian stood waiting, every inch of him crisp and composed.
"Are you ready, my prince?" he asked, eyes scanning him briefly.
"Yes," Jace said, voice steady.
Cassian gave a nod and turned.
As Jace followed, he glanced down the hallway stretching ahead — columns, gold trim, plush carpets that swallowed the sound of their steps. Maids lined the walls with polite bows as he passed. Guards posted at corners. Even the scent in the air — jasmine and old wood — felt royal.
Too royal.
> "This isn't just a palace," he thought, swallowing. "It's a whole damn world. And I'm wearing someone else's name."
A chill traced down his spine.
> "What happened to the real Jun?"
He didn't know. No clue if Jun's soul had been booted out… or if it was still somewhere inside, watching.
> "But if he's gone — or dead — then I have to survive in his place."
As they turned a corner, sunlight spilled through tall stained-glass windows. The hallway opened into a breathtaking corridor with massive portraits and mounted blades on the walls — ancient kings, royal crests, magic artifacts sealed in glass.
Jace swallowed.
> "Royalty's no joke. And neither is whatever comes next."
Cassian walked one step ahead, but not far enough to seem dismissive. Always just close enough to protect. That was his role, after all — the prince's shield, his blade, his silent shadow.
But this morning… something felt different.
He glanced back briefly.
Prince Jun was looking around like he'd never seen the palace before. Eyes tracing every column, every gilded mirror, every passing servant like it was all new to him. Not with the usual bored sneer or dramatic sighs — but with a kind of quiet awe.
Like someone who didn't quite belong.
Cassian narrowed his eyes, just slightly.
> No tantrums. No barking orders. No smug remarks about how slow the help is.
This wasn't the Jun he had guarded for years — the Jun who weaponized arrogance as easily as he breathed. This Jun seemed cautious. Curious. Almost… soft.
And yet—
Cassian didn't mind it.
Not really.
He told himself it was just a trick of the light. Just the hangover, maybe. People acted strangely after one too many elven wines.
Still… he kept watching.
Because this wasn't Prince Jun.
Not the one he knew. Not quite.