Maya learned quickly that the swaps had no pattern.
Sometimes days passed without incident, and she thought maybe it had ended — that the crown and its whispers had been only a dream. Then, when her guard was lowest, the shift would seize her again.
The sensation was always the same: a falling inward, a sharp inhale, and then the jarring solidity of another body — stronger, taller, cloaked in silk and power.
It terrified her.
It thrilled her.
The third time it happened, she was standing in line at the grocery store, hand around Aarav's as he begged her for a candy bar. Her wallet was thin, her patience thinner. She blinked — and the beeping registers vanished.
She stood instead in a war council.
Maps covered the table, markers for armies arrayed in neat lines. Soldiers and scribes looked up as she appeared, every face tense with fear.
"Your Majesty," the general said, relief plain in his voice. "We were waiting."
Maya's heart lurched. Aarav. Where is he? Who's holding his hand?
Her fingers closed on air.
Panic tore through her. But she forced her breath steady, forced her chin high. She could not falter here — not with so many eyes on her.
"What news?" she asked, the words flowing as though scripted into her tongue.
The council erupted in detail: enemy forces encamped, supply routes threatened, a looming siege.
Maya heard none of it. All she could see was Aarav, abandoned in the store aisle, calling for her.
But when the general paused, awaiting her command, she heard herself answer in a voice of unshakable steel:"Reinforce the river crossings. Hold the line until I arrive."
The council erupted in bows and murmurs of faith.
Faith. Trust. Dependence.
The same things she had always wanted from Aarav — and here, strangers gave it without hesitation.
When she jolted back into her real body, she was sprawled on the grocery floor. Aarav clutched her hand, tears brimming.
"Mama? You okay? You were gone! You just stood there—like you didn't hear me."
Maya tried to smile, but her throat locked. He had been calling her. She hadn't heard.
Her cheeks burned. Not with shame — but with guilt wrapped around a darker, hungrier truth.
Because even as she hugged him close, even as she whispered apologies, part of her missed the war council. Missed the certainty in their eyes.
The days that followed blurred. At the diner, she moved with a strange new confidence, her posture regal, her tone commanding. Customers listened. The manager muttered about giving her more shifts, maybe even a raise.
But at home, cracks showed.
Aarav watched her with wary eyes."You're different," he said one evening, poking at his dinner."Different how?" she asked, too quickly."Like… when you're here, you're not really here."
The words cut deeper than any insult.
Because he was right.
The next swap came in the dead of night. She had dozed off beside Aarav, his small hand curled in hers.
And then—
Torchlight. Stone walls. The clamor of soldiers sharpening blades.
She stood armored now, the crown heavy on her brow. A sword lay at her side, its pommel set with a ruby the size of her thumb.
They called her name — their name for her — with reverence. A queen, a commander, a savior.
Maya's chest swelled. She raised the sword. Their cheers shook the walls.
For a dizzy, intoxicating moment, she forgot everything else.
Forgot Aarav.
Forgot the small, fragile life waiting for her in the other world.
When she returned, dawn was bleeding through the curtains. Aarav still slept beside her, his breath even, his trust unbroken.
But Maya lay awake, staring at the ceiling, hands trembling.
She knew, with a clarity that hollowed her chest:
One world would demand her.The other would lose her.
And the choice, sooner or later, would not be hers to avoid.