Damn that's loud…
Something was shrieking. It drilled straight through my skull. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume it was a banshee. I don't know what those sound like, but I'm sure this fits the bill.
I tried to roll away from it, but I couldn't tell which direction the sound was coming from. It was everywhere. High-pitched, panicked, and god—it sounded wet. I felt my lips pull up in disgust. The sound became clearer.
"Oh, thank the heavens—!"
God, that voice again.
I felt the firm warm weight of a body. Someone—was on top of me. I groaned, already having a feeling who it could be. nd tried to shove it off, but my arms felt like sandbags.
"Get—" My throat burned. "Get off."
The weight tightened its hold instead of releasing me. I could feel my body being rocked side to side like I was a damn toddler. "I thought we lost you!" That shrill voice of hers was thick with emotion I didn't have time for.
I cracked one eye open and instantly regretted it as the image of pigmented freckles, thick red hair, and a blotchy, snotty face came into clearer view.
Ugh. Just great.
"Roslyn." A voice called, but barely audible over Chuckie's cries.
"Roslyn," he called again, more firm. It was deep and mature—kind of hot. I tried to shift past the mass of red frizz to see who that handsome voice belonged to, and for once… Roslyn had done something worth praise.
She moved. Pulling back slowly, watching me like I'd disappear if she looked away even once. She was probably right. Bolting wasn't off the table.
"Yes—yes, Doctor."
Doctor. Good. Someone with common sense. "Give her space."
Finally.
I tried to sit up and give my suave savior a little smile of gratitude for saving me. "Than—"
What the hell?
My smile flattened as I saw the man. Beast. Thing. He was tall—tall was an understatement. He was like three inches from brushing the door frame, and that was a big frame. He pulled the heavy looking double doors closed behind him effortlessly. He was strong, obviously so. Not to mention overweight… like, not jiggle loose fat, but hard, round fat. Scales that were prominent on his forehead seemed to lighten near the stout, pointed ears. His skin an odd grey hue, with silver hair that framed his face Farquaad-style. And the horn. God, the horn. He had a curved horn jutting from his left temple that could make a unicorn envious.
I tried to plaster a smile on my face, but I'm sure it looked less like enthusiasm and more like constipation. I swallowed the discomfort building in my throat.
"H-hi," I breathed softly. He was so odd-looking, it was all I could manage.
The closest I've come to seeing something like him was…
I can't even think of anything.
This doctor—Doctor Horn? Yeah, that feels right. Doctor Horn was a haunting sight.
I sat up more with a grunt.
"My lady, you must relax," Doctor Horn said in that deep-not-so-suave voice. His hands reached out to touch me. I slapped his hand away instinctively, before forcing myself to shake it. His arm looked like a huge worm scooting across soil. I let out a shaky chuckle. "I'm fine." My hand flew to my throat.
Her—My voice was painfully soft, almost like a child's.
Doctor Horn watched me over narrow frames and beady black eyes. "It is pleasant to see you awake and… lively. You gave us quite the scare."
He offered a small, reassuring smile. It landed closer to unsettling than assured. He rolled up the sleeves of his dark robes, lowering himself to one knee, and still, he towered over me.
"What—what are you doing?"
He regarded me as though the answer were obvious. "A checkup, of course." He slowly removed his spectacles. "Now, if you would, direct your gaze toward me." He tapped his chest with two thick rers. My eyes snapped to the motion. There was a sigil over his heart—I think. It looked like two elongated Z's mirroring each other, edged in platinum.
I flinched as a deep blue light flickered in my peripheral vision.
"Remain still. Look ahead."
But alas—the pull of curiosity. My gaze flickered toward him to see blue beams streaming from those beady black eyes.
"My lady, please," he said, casting his gaze upward in exasperation.
But I couldn't look away. I followed the light and saw it cut through the ceiling's structure—I could see through the infrastructure.
He was a human—beast X-ray machine.
Badass.
"My lady—please, your eyes."
I reluctantly closed them. Then cracked them to slivers. I just had to see one more time. "I must warn you, if you open your eyes again, the risk of blindness is astronomical."
Say less. Don't have to tell me twice.
Even as my eyelids pressed firmly together, I couldn't help but wonder— was this the magic Death talked about? My heart thudded rapidly in excitement.
"Take a deep breath."
I did. I followed every order he gave me—squeezing his hands, letting him touch my back, and so on. Once he was done:
"That will be all."
I took that to mean I could open my eyes. He stepped back immediately and withdrew a small leather pad from his sleeve, scribbling briskly. He paused, his pen tapping against the pad as he gave me a once-over. His brows pulled low. I've never been a pro at reading people, but if I had to guess what that look meant, it was either confusion or something was really bad. I could only hope her sickness didn't stay behind in this body.
"Incredible," Doctor Horn muttered in awe.
Okay. False alarm.
Roslyn made a small, worried sound near the corner of the bed. "Doctor…?"
I blinked in surprise. She was so quiet, I honestly forgot she was there.
He ignored her, eyes narrowing at me again.
"It is strange… There was no pulse," he said calmly, "when you found her outside the gates, correct?"
Roslyn nodded solemnly, shifting on her feet and twiddling her fingers. "Yes! None. I listened closely, and she was unresponsive."
Yes. I'm aware.
She looked at the doctor head-on. "B-but then she awakened a few moments later. A miracle, I tell you!"
Doctor Horn acknowledged her with a nod. He turned, mumbling to himself as he stroked his chin.
"Yet her vitals are not only stable—but strong." He turned to watch me skeptically as he muttered, "Actually, stronger than ever."
I held his gaze, biting the inside of my cheek, trying to stop my trembling hands.
Don't get suspicious. Please don't get suspicious.
He let out a low exhale. "I shall return for more extensive examinations."
Wonderful.
Roslyn bowed low as he moved toward the doorway.
"I will inform Lord Fitzgerald."
And explain how their dead daughter isn't dead or even sick anymore.
Roslyn rushed forward again, eyes red, hands trembling as she sank to her knees. I jerked backward at her proximity. Christ, I could smell her last meal.
"My lady… you frightened us."
I suppressed a frown. No amount of fear requires us to be nose to nose like this. She pulled back and buried her face in her hands. "Relax," I muttered, hands up in discomfort. "I'm not going anywhere."
Roslyn sniffled ungraciously, wiping at her nose. How she got to become a servant for this woman, I'll never know. One thing I did know—I wasn't staying in this bed.
I looked down at her, then toward the door. I tried to shimmy to the side of the extravagant bed, attempting to avoid touching her as she sobbed.
The moment her hands dropped, I was making a break toward the door.
"Lady Elizabeth!"
Roslyn was in front of me before I could blink. Her sudden appearance threw me. I fell back, almost collapsing into the bedpost. Her hands shot out and pulled me forward, steadying me upright like I was a toddler learning to walk. I watched her with wide eyes.
Well. I can see how she got her job now.
"I'm fine," I mumbled, catching my breath.
I looked around the room. I already knew they were tall, but without Doctor Horn's robust form, the room looked much bigger. If I wanted to host a party, I think I could have fifteen people here—comfortably, not including the lavish bed behind me. I gave it a quick once-over. The brown, glossy pillars that held up each corner of the bed were carved neatly with patterns beyond description. All I could make out were squiggly lines and dots that created an entirely new design. And the thickness made my arm look like a twig.
I'd have to get a closer look later.
Honestly, overkill, but I'm not gonna kick a gifted horse.
Out the corner of my eye, I spotted a red shine, like a glowing gem. I turned fully to see a body mirror carved from dark wood. I slowly approached it.
My hand dragged down the assortment of red gems placed inside it.
I wonder if they're worth anything.
I gently picked at them, checking if any were loose, but nope—tight as a Catholic nun's scowl.
And at least two feet taller than me—her.
My eyes widened as I stepped to the side, getting a full glimpse of myself for the first time.
Oh.
I touched the face of Elizabeth—vibrant hazel eyes, even clear brown skin, heart-shaped face, button nose, and pouty lips.
The curls were tight, copper and long. I grabbed a few and analyzed them with narrowed eyes.
I frowned.
Not a hint of frizz in sight. I guess that's the life of a palace princess.
I rolled my eyes and tossed the hair over my shoulders, placing my hands on my hips. I pulled the fabric of the white gown back against my body with an approving hum.
Not bad.
I ignored Roslyn's droning behind me about propriety. I had other priorities—like this rocking body.
I grinned, cupping the abundant chest with a closed-eye sigh. Man, did it feel good to be the stacked one people envy.
"I would've committed crimes for this," I muttered under my breath as I bounced on my heels. I turned to the side, unable to help the excited squeal that escaped my lips.
It would be easy to win that guy over in this body.
"Please—" Roslyn pleaded, pulling the fabric loose from my form, letting it drape—relaxed—like it was meant to be. "You should not do such things—it is improper." She whispered as she gripped my hand tight. "Are you certain you are well?"
I bit back a snappy response. Suspicion from a ditzy maid can't be something I have on my first day awake.
"I—I'm fine, Roslyn. Just being able to truly admire my form without my sickness is most… invigorating."
Roslyn released my hands, clasping hers over her chest with a frown. Her green eyes already shining with tears.
"Roslyn?" She repeated the name like an insult.
I watched her cautiously.
"That… is your name?" I studied her, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. What brought this ditzy servant to tears.
"T-there… there." The words were awkward and foreign from my lips. "What's eating you—uhh, I mean, you seem upset. What has you faring so… unwell?"
Roslyn's face grew even more worried. I hissed internally.
All of those dramatic period pieces failed me.
"You have never called me Roslyn. Only Rosie."
My nose crinkled up in disgust at the childish nickname.
There's no way in hell I'm calling her that.
I let out a long, theatrical sigh and shook my head. "Oh dear, how could I forget?" I let out a breathless chuckle, scraping my mind for a save. "Roslyn has always been too mature, hasn't it?" I said with a knowing wink and smile. "But don't you think… Rosie," I forced the name out through my teeth, "is a tad bit immature? It's a new day—new me." I guided her in front of me in the mirror, brushing the frizz from her face. "New us. And I see the woman you have blossomed into. I think—Rose suits you better. Don't you think?"
I watched her as she processed the name change. Confusion. Awe. Then acceptance.
She threw her arms around me, hugging me with crushing strength. The air rushed from my lungs as she squeezed, her grip almost too much.
I hissed, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back. "Off—"
I caught myself, softening my voice. "Off… please." Rose immediately released me and stepped back, bowing low.
"My apologies, Lady Elizabeth. I just—you put so much thought into this."
Her voice was thick with emotion as she began to sniffle.
I hadn't put much thought into it. But whatever helps her. Whatever helps my situation.
I walked past her, taking slow steps toward the window. It was draped with long, blood-red curtains. I pulled one back—and flinched as bright sunlight poured in.
The scenery of my new life as Elizabeth.
Beyond the glass, vibrant green grass stretched out as far as my eyes could see, so vividly bright it looked as though it had been tended to by God himself. Humanoid pillars with blades lined the way, standing like silent soldiers. Stone paths branched out below—a few of them. In the center was the thickest one, clearly meant for horses or carriages. Whatever they used in this world.
I was on one of the higher levels—obviously.
The guards that seemed to be patrolling looked like ants beneath my view. Posted at corners along the walls, stationed at intervals I could see from here. And if I squinted, just at the very edge of the horizon, I could make out the tip of something. Another home. Another castle.
I leaned against the windowsill.
Is that Ashworth's castle?
Rose gently pulled me back and closed the curtain. "My apologies once again, my lady," she said softly. "Before you venture off to admire the views, we should get you properly dressed."
I looked down at the white gown. "Is there a problem with what I'm wearing?"
Rose let out a soft chuckle, as if I'd made a joke. When she saw I wasn't laughing, her expression snapped to seriousness. "Yes. Yes, there is. That is your nightwear, my lady."
My mouth formed a silent oh. I recovered quickly, covering the misstep. "Of course. It was merely a jest." Rose's relieved laugh quickly followed. "Of course. I knew that. That is what I assumed, my lady."
I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
She guided me to the closet and pulled open the doors. "What would you like to wear? What do you fancy this evening?"
Dozens of dresses greeted me. Rows upon painstaking rows of dresses, gloves, hats—all of them thick and heavy. Nothing seemed lightweight. The colors were either vibrant or deeply pigmented, long and gaudy.
Nothing I would have chosen. But then again, my choices were slim pickings.
"Would you prefer the blue brocade? Or perhaps the ivory with the gold trim?"
I let out a fragmented, breathy chuckle, gesturing at the clothes before turning to Rose.
"Is there any way we can make it a bit more… airy?"
Rose nodded excitedly. "Yes. You have been ill for so long. Of course, this many layers would weigh heavily on you. I suppose we could remove a petticoat or two—just until you grow more accustomed."
For the first time, I smiled at Rose. Sincerely.
"Thank you so much."
It was the first genuine thing I'd given her since I'd opened my eyes. She pulled me into another iron-grip hug, and I instantly regretted it.