You Are a Woman.

Petrified, I slowly sat back down. The King snapped his fingers, commanding a squadron of maids and butlers to clear out of the room. Marie and Denise each closed one of the massive doors, latched them, and stood across from us.

The King leaned over his empty plate. “Your mother had reported that your queen’s training was coming along smoothly, but I’m beginning to doubt that… Pathetic!” He slammed his fist on the table, which jolted me, making me flinch. The other maid seemed unfazed, but Marie winced. She looked upon me with pity.

“How many times did you make a complete mockery of our noble family this evening? How many asinine questions? When you act so pathetically, it makes a fool of us all!” He raised his arms, as if the palace building itself had been slighted by my actions. “You know our position is already dire. We cannot afford a single misstep when it comes to House Deighsel, lest that bastard see us as impotent.”

I don’t know, actually, but I’ll just have to figure out what he means.

“My sincere apologies… Father. I had no intention of-”

“No intention!? Just as you have ‘no intention’ of marrying Friedbert? Hah! Preposterous.”

“It was but a simple question. If given the option-”

“You are given no option in the matter, Elisabeth.” He laced his fingers together beneath his chin and leaned forward.

What?

“H- …How on Earth do you mean?”

“Have you gone mad? Have those stories of yours filled your mind with the rancid ideology of the East? I knew I ought to have had Margot confiscate those.” He thunked his index finger onto the table, laying down the law. “You are my daughter, and you will do as I say.”

Taken aback, I sank into my chair.

“You’re marrying me off.”

“In a sense.”

“But I don’t want to marry a man! Especially not that one!”

“Hah! Hahahahah! As opposed to what, a woman? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What’s wrong with-”

It suddenly hit me. If I was now a woman, then that made being attracted to other women gay. I was now a… lesbian. Homosexual.

I had never had much contact with gay people. I didn’t hate them or anything; I just never had any gay friends. To tell you the truth, I generally tried not to think about the concept. I stayed away from homosexuality, rationalizing it with a simple ‘it’s just not my thing.’ Whenever the thought arose, I pushed it away, out of arm’s reach where it couldn’t bother me. But, in that moment, the realization ran me over like a train. I was now the very thing I always kept out of my mind.

“Has sense finally returned to you?” The King snapped me out of my shock.

“No, I- …It’s just… I- …Yes. It has.”

“Good. You know this arrangement is the only path forward for the Kingdom. The Duchy simply holds too much.”

I had to figure out what he was talking about without seeming completely clueless. “Has something changed?”

“Nothing significant. Their greedy expansion pushed further South, and they now control every vein of silver in the mountains.”

“...And then what?”

“And then nothing. That’s it. The flow of coin has completely reversed. With such control, and with the Scourge occupying the Royal Army, they’ve refused to send their militia. If he wanted, Duke Deighsel could declare sovereignty tomorrow, storm the palace next month, and we’d be powerless to stop them.”

I had to feign understanding. “It’s that bad?”

“Worse, most likely. But through this betrothment, our houses will become conjoined, and the Southern might and mines folded into the royal family.” So it’s a political marriage. That’s fun. “Thus, the weight behind this negotiation bears heavily upon me.”

Upon him? I was the one getting married off to a pervert for political capital!

The situation was a little confusing. I was here now, sure, but I didn’t really imagine that I’d be stuck here forever. It wasn’t like I died when I got magically transported into princessdom. Oh God, wait. Did I die? I wracked my brain. Nothing felt like it had hurt. I had just hit “go live” on my streaming programs and suddenly been blinded by my newfound beauty. It wasn’t like I got hit by a truck while crossing the street or anything.

“Regardless, as I’m sure you grasp the magnitude of the situation, your marriage to Friedbert is all but decided.” I opened my mouth to protest, but the King stopped me, holding out his finger in a kind of ‘ah-ah-ah, wait’ gesture. “With this in mind, I am going to have your mother intensify the degree and frequency of your lessons. It seems you still have a long way to go, but perhaps you can become as fine a Queen as she with further instruction. I’m sure the Deighsel boy will see something in you.”

This was not the end of this conversation. I am not going to marry a man, I thought. But that was tomorrow’s dispute. I was exhausted and wanted to get to bed.

“Fine. Is that all, Father?” I glanced at Marie. She looked away.

“No. There is another concern.” I wanted to groan. “Even with the full might of the Duchy, the Royal Army stands no chance against the Eastern Empire. Loathe as I am to admit, we must endeavor to mend relations with those lunatics.”

With how the King kept talking about this nation to the East, it started to scare me. With morbid curiosity, I asked, “And the plan for that is...?”

“You’re aware of that degenerate Eastern festival, the Dawn of Spring, yes?”

“Is that the thing the Duke mentioned?”

“Indeed. I intend to have you act as delegation to this thing. You shall attend, participate as normally as possible through the affair, and show those moral failures that a bridge between nations is still possible.”

Hold on a sec. First, he intends to have me marry a monster to maintain his position as king. That’s awful enough. Second, he’s using me as a card to curry favor with the East. Is he a psychopath?

“I’m not sure I like the sound of this, Fathe-”

“Oh? What happened to all that fascination? Those novels you incessantly consumed instead of refining your etiquette?”

My ears went red, for some reason.

“Yes, in fact, I intend to send a few other attendants with you. I don’t believe even Marie, capable as she is, will be enough to keep you in check. Margot and a company of knights shall follow.”

“Understood. Is this all, Father?” My ears felt hotter, and my stomach churned. “I’m rather tired, and would like to go to bed now.”

“Hmph. Yes, this is all. We’ll discuss this matter further bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

I stood up and briskly walked out of the room. After a few steps, I broke into a run, kicking off my heels and desperately navigating my way back to the room I had first appeared in upon my transportation to this world.

Bursting into my bedroom, I collapsed onto the carpeted floor next to the vanity. Despite the sound of my heavy breath, I heard footsteps follow and the doors close shut.

Without a word, two gentle hands helped me to my feet and began to help me undress. At any other moment, I would have marveled at my new form. With a thousand thoughts running through my head, though, before I even had a chance to look, Marie had removed the dress and enrobed me in a comfortable cotton nightgown.

I turned around and melted into her arms. I can’t explain why I felt the desire to hug her, but it simply felt right.

She guided me over to the bed. As I lay down, my mind raced in memory of the events of the past few hours.

The King sucked. Not only was he going to force-marry me away in political self-interest, but that jerk wanted to use my mere presence as a princess as proof of investment into mending the relationship with the East. What about my safety? Was I nothing but a tool to him? That Eastern nation sounded more dangerous every time it was brought up, and King Lumineuse intended to have me sent into the middle of the worst of it just to prove something. Not to mention the absolute creature he intended me to wed.

Did he see me as nothing but an object to be traded as necessary?

The realities of being a woman in a ‘royal magic fantasy’ world began to set in. This was Elisabeth’s role. My role. I was a woman. No autonomy. No choice. Value only in my capability to bear an heir.

Another foreign feeling washed over me.

I began to cry.

It was the first time in years. I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d been able to shed genuine tears. The salty, warm liquid pooled on the pillow, behind my head, running sideways down my face. It was in that sorry state, mourning my future, confused by the crying that had overcome me, that I drifted into sleep.

Perhaps, I hoped, I would wake up in the morning to my old life. A bad dream, fueled by nerves on the eve of the biggest stream of the year. And yet, a part of me hoped that it wouldn’t end. That perhaps I might wake up in this strange but somehow pleasant female figure, and find a solution to this issue.

Perhaps.