The moment I lay on the bed, exhaustion washed over me. The overwhelming events of the day caught up, and before I knew it, I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Sleeping soundly, I heard the creak of my door opening, followed by the stomping of several feet entering my room.
"Is it… morning already?"
I thought groggily, rubbing my eyes.
I glanced out the window and saw the first rays of sunrise painting the sky.
"So early?" I muttered in my head, still half-asleep—until my gaze shifted upward and froze.
I was surrounded.
A cluster of servants stood around my bed, their faces blank yet perfectly disciplined. But among them, one figure stood out so brightly, it made my breath hitch.
Wait… that's the Great Queen—Mrs. Margarette.
My entire body jolted. In a messy panic, I scrambled upright—first sitting, then standing—all while wearing what had to be the worst morning posture in history.
Mrs. Margarette's sharp, regal eyes swept over me like blades. For a moment, she looked at me as though she had already lost all hope in me. But then she finally spoke, her voice carrying the weight of royalty itself.
"Listen, girl. Although I cannot stop this marriage now, I will make sure you learn a few things. At the very least, you will not embarrass me in front of everyone."
I straightened immediately, my voice instinctively snapping into obedience.
"Yes, ma'am!"
Then she continued:
"From now until your marriage, you will attend five classes every single day."
I blinked at her, my sleep vanishing instantly.
"Five… classes?"
She ignored my shock and began listing them like commandments:
Walking properly
Sitting properly
Eating properly
Talking properly
And lastly… laughing properly
I stared at her, internally screaming.
Walking, sitting, eating, talking… okay, fine.
But laughing properly?
How does someone even laugh properly?!
Before I could form the question, she added curtly, "Now, get ready quickly for your first class."
"Now?" I almost blurted out—but managed to swallow the word before it escaped.
As I got dressed, my thoughts spiraled endlessly.
Why is my life suddenly moving so fast?
One moment I was living normally… and now, I'm apparently a student in the Royal School of Becoming a Perfect Lady.
I got ready as quickly as I could, and then Alice guided me through the long corridors to the practice room.
When I finally pushed the door open and stepped inside, I froze, my eyes widening in shock.
Was it because the room was breathtakingly beautiful?
No.
It was because… the room was completely empty.
No decorations. No mirrors.
Just… nothing.
The only thing in sight was a single chair, placed lonely in the far corner of the room, as if it didn't belong there either.
Inside the room stood Mrs. Margarette along with five of her servants, all lined up neatly behind her. I hesitated for a moment at the door before finally stepping inside.
Mrs. Margarette's sharp gaze locked on me immediately.
"Time for your first class," she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Walk across the room with a straight posture, keeping equal space between your feet, and do it with grace."
I stared at her, my eyes flicking down to the ridiculously heavy dress I was wearing.
Grace? In this?
I could barely breathe in the thing, let alone walk elegantly. But I tried anyway.
Unsurprisingly, I failed miserably.
What was supposed to be a smooth, regal walk ended up looking more like a confused stumble. Every step felt wrong, and my body had no idea what to do next.
Mrs. Margarette sighed, gave me a more detailed demonstration, and made me repeat it again.
And again.
And again.
As I dragged myself through yet another attempt, I thought jokingly,
"Forget walking… I bet no one in this room can outrun me if we had to sprint. I've had way more practice in that department."
Of course, right at that exact moment, lost in my thoughts, I messed up my step again.
After what felt like hours of walking practice and absolutely no improvement at all, the first class was finally over.
Next came the sitting class.
Mrs. Margarette clasped her hands behind her back and said with confidence,
"Alright, this one is easy. Sit on this chair with a straight posture. Sit like a lady."
Ladylike? I blinked at her, confused.
At home, I always sat however I wanted—legs crossed, legs stretched out, sometimes even curled up like a cat. Whatever felt comfortable, I did it.
And, well… I got scolded by Rayan more times than I could count for exactly that.
"Sit properly," he would always say with that annoying serious tone of his.
Still, with that memory stuck in my head, I managed to follow Mrs. Margarette's instructions.
Not perfectly, of course. But… kinda okay.
I guess you could say I half-passed this one.
Next up was the eating class.
Mrs. Margarette demonstrated how to eat properly using a fork and knife, teaching me to take small bites, chew slowly, and maintain perfect table manners.
Honestly? I liked this class the most.
Why?
Simple.
Because of the tasty food!
I followed every instruction carefully… partly because I wanted to impress Mrs. Margarette, but mostly because I wanted more practice.
The more I practiced, the more food I got to eat.
And trust me, I was more than willing to become a table-manners expert if it meant another bite.
Next came the proper conversation class.
In this one, I had to learn a bunch of polite words—the kind I'd rarely ever used before—and practice speaking them in a royal, elegant manner.
It felt… weird.
Like trying to sound polite but not too polite, graceful but not fake.
Still, I somehow managed to get through it without completely embarrassing myself.
And then came the last class…
The one that nearly broke me.
How to laugh properly.
Yes. You read that right.
Mrs. Margarette stood in front of me, arms crossed, and said firmly,
"First of all, you don't need to laugh at all."
"Like you?" I thought instantly but wisely kept my mouth shut.
She continued,
"But even if you must laugh, do it quietly and sweetly, while covering your face."
"Okay," I nodded, pretending to understand.
But my laugh?
My laugh wasn't ready for this kind of royal transformation.
And in that serious, silent room… when I tried to demonstrate, all that came out was a cracked, fake, awkward sound that didn't resemble a laugh at all.
To be honest, my laugh was so ridiculous that it nearly made the other servants burst out laughing.
Even Mrs. Margarette's eyebrow twitched for a second—but of course, she quickly composed herself.
Finally, after what felt like a century, all the classes were over.
And yet… Mrs. Margarette still looked disappointed in me.
By the time I stepped out, the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold.
What a hard day.
From sunrise to sunset, all I had done was practice, practice, and more practice.
I dragged myself back to my room and collapsed onto my bed.
I was so exhausted I didn't even have the energy to talk to Alice.
Lying there, I thought to myself,
"I never knew the life of a royal would be this hard… everything has to be done so perfectly."
Just then, a knock echoed on my door.
My heart skipped a beat.
For a terrifying moment, I thought Mrs. Margarette had come back for another class.
But when I turned to look…
I almost jumped with relief.
It was Rayan.