CHAPTER TWO (INTO THE QUEEN’S BODY)

CHAPTER TWO

My eyes fluttered open, heavy and slow. The air around me was thick, almost scented with something strange, like burning wood mixed with flowers. My head throbbed sharply, and I groaned, trying to sit up.

“Your Majesty! Are you alright?”

The voice was frantic, belonging to a young girl who suddenly appeared beside me.

I blinked at her, dazed. “I’m fine,” I muttered, rubbing my temple. Then I froze. “Wait… what did you just call me?”

The girl gasped and dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry, my Queen! Please don’t have me punished!”

I stared at her, my heart racing. “My… what?”

“My Queen,” she whispered, her forehead pressed to the ground.

What the hell was going on?

I looked around in confusion. The room wasn’t mine. The bed was huge and draped with golden curtains. The walls were carved with vines and ancient patterns, the kind I’d only seen in history books or medieval movies. Candles flickered from tall stands. Everything looked expensive, royal, ancient.

“Calm down, Liana,” I whispered to myself, trying to steady my breathing. “You’re probably dreaming again.”

I pinched my arm hard. Pain shot through me. My heart sank. This wasn’t a dream.

Okay, think. Where was I before now?

The museum. The portrait. The smile.

It all came rushing back. I had been staring at Queen Elara’s painting, repeating those strange words, and then everything went dark.

I turned to the girl still kneeling on the ground. “Thank you for bringing me to the school clinic. You can… you can stop kneeling now.”

She stared up at me like I was speaking another language. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I’m too foolish to understand your words.”

What?

I glanced down and froze. My hoodie and jeans were gone. Instead, I was wearing a silk gown, soft lilac, embroidered with pearls. My hands looked smaller, paler, more delicate.

“What happened to my clothes?” I whispered.

“Your clothes, my Queen?”

“Hoodie,” I said slowly, “and pants?”

The girl blinked in confusion. “Hoo… what?”

I stood up and stumbled toward the mirror across the room. The reflection hit me like a slap.

The woman staring back wasn’t me.

She had flowing brown hair, flawless skin, and striking green eyes that shimmered like jewels. Her face looked too perfect,the same one I’d seen earlier that day in the museum portrait.

Queen Elara.

I screamed and stumbled back. “What the hell! That’s not me! That’s not my face!”

The maid jumped, terrified. “Your Majesty, please, I beg you, don’t curse me!”

I pressed my hands to my cheeks, trembling. “No… no, this isn’t happening. I’m inside her body.” My mind spun wildly. “The portrait… I was staring at it. Then the light ”

I backed up against the wall, my breathing fast and shallow. “Is this time travel? No. That’s impossible. It’s fictional. It’s….”

“My Queen?” the maid whispered, visibly shaking.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “I’m… fine.”

But I wasn’t. Nothing was fine. I was standing in another woman’s body. A Queen’s body. If this was real, if someone found out I wasn’t her, I could actually die.

I swallowed hard. “Sorry, but… what year is this?”

The girl hesitated, looking terrified of giving the wrong answer. “It’s… 1438 AE, Your Majesty.”

My stomach dropped.

No. No. No.

“What kingdom is this?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Earldom, my Queen.”

My voice cracked. “Who rules this kingdom?”

“King Alaric,” she said softly.

I froze.

The Raven King.

The man I’d just insulted in class that morning. The tyrant who burned the world over a betrayal.

“Shit,” I whispered under my breath. “This has to be a joke.”

The maid looked confused. “What is it, my Queen?”

I didn’t answer. My thoughts were spinning too fast. I had discussed this man’s story just hours ago, called him petty, selfish, unstable. And now… I was standing in his wife’s body.

The same wife he murdered.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “This can’t be real. This can’t….”

A loud knock interrupted me.

The door opened, and another servant stepped in, bowing deeply. “Your Majesty,” she said, her tone steady, “His Royal Highness requests your presence.”

“Me?” I pointed to myself.

The maid looked uncertain. “Yes, my Queen. His Majesty is waiting.”

My throat went dry.

Alaric. The Raven King.

The man who, according to every historical account, was both feared and cruel. And I, apparently, was his wife - the woman who betrayed him.

I tried to sit but missed the edge of the bed and dropped awkwardly onto the floor. The servants gasped. “Your Majesty!” they cried, rushing toward me, but I waved them off.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, forcing a shaky laugh. “Just… practicing humility.”

They exchanged worried glances.

I stared down at my trembling hands. “What am I supposed to do?” I whispered. “Why am I here? Is this punishment? Am I stuck in history because I called him petty?”

My pulse raced. I could hear my own heartbeat.

The maid adjusted my gown gently. “Your Majesty, the King awaits,” she reminded me quietly.

I nodded slowly, barely breathing.

Alaric.

The man whose story had haunted books and burned into legends. The one I had judged without mercy.

And now, fate had thrown me right into his arms or maybe his wrath.

I stood up shakily, my gown brushing the floor. “Alright,” I whispered, more to myself than to them. “Let’s go meet the monster I once mocked.”

The maids bowed and opened the doors.

As I stepped forward, the corridor stretched out before me like a tunnel of gold and firelight. Every step echoed against the marble, each one pulling me closer to the throne room.

My heart pounded harder.

And deep down, beneath the fear, something else stirred something I couldn’t explain.

Like I was walking not into a stranger’s world, but into a story that had been waiting for me all along.