"DO. IT."
Two words. Two words that sucked every last bit of air from my lungs, parted my lips, and set my feet on fire. DJ, play *This Girl Is on Fire* by Alicia Keys, because damn, I was sweating.
"Your Majesty!"
Tyra's voice of disbelief rose through the chamber. "You cannot be serious, you must not…"
She did not even finish before the King lifted his hand, cutting her off without a glance in her direction. His brow arched at me instead.
"Well… yes, of course, Your Majesty," I stammered.
He raised both hands, and I fought with everything in me not to stare at his bare chest. With a hard gulp, I rushed forward to drape the robe over him, my hands trembling all over. You know what I said about modern girls not being affected in historical times? That might have been a lie, because I was literally shaking.
A breath slipped from my lips when I finally settled the robe in place. I stood behind him, staring at his back while ignoring the burning glare Lady Tyra was drilling into me. I hoped she understood now that I am not swoon for the King.
"Hmph," she hissed, then brushed past me, not without bumping my shoulder, of course.
I looked back just as she swept out with her maids and slammed the door shut with a loud thud. Pain shot through my chest. That was Christy's face out there, and guilt washed over me all over again.
Sigh. Why did the King have to put me in this situation?
"You are not done."
Eh?
The King's voice snapped me to attention. What did he mean I was not done? Not done with what? Heaven help me.
I quickly looked away, my breath rising and falling fast, because the King had turned around and was now facing me with his bare chest. He was right. I had only draped the robe over him without covering his front properly. But what was I supposed to do? I knew nothing about royal clothing.
"Buckle the belt."
Right. A belt.
I turned around, scanning the entire room in search of it, but found nothing.
"In the wardrobe," he said.
"Right." I turned back, flashing him an awkward grin before rushing to grab whatever belt I could find. It turned out to be a shiny black one.
I walked back toward him, clutching the belt and biting my lip.
"You've never done this before?" he asked.
"Exactly." A sigh of relief slipped from me, and just like that, I was no longer speaking to a king. I looked at him like he was one of my work colleagues. "Things like this were never my calling."
He raised a brow at me, and that was all the reaction he gave.
"Fasten it around my waist."
Damn. I thought he was going to let me be — was he serious?
I did everything in me not to stare at his bare chest, yet the closer I moved, the harder it was to look away. My eyes betrayed me. I wrapped the belt around his waist, and when it came time to buckle it at the front, I sharply turned my gaze aside like I hadn't just been drinking in the view.
When I finished, the King stepped back, and only then did I realize I had been holding my breath the whole time. He walked toward his desk, rearranged his books and ink, and without turning around, said, "Don't touch anything near this desk."
Before I could reply, he turned and strode out, his golden robe gleaming behind him.
"DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING, WHATEVER," I mimicked under my breath, rolling my eyes.
"Seriously, do I have to serve him in this life too?" I muttered, pacing the room. "Isabel, get those stacks of documents. Isabel, cover my schedule for tomorrow." I plopped onto the bed, lips jutting out in a pout. "And one time, in the middle of the night, he called and said, 'Isabel, get ready, we're flying to Australia.'"
A weak, bitter laugh slipped from my lips. All those times he piled task upon task on me — and not once did he truly look at me. Not once did he notice the dark bags beneath my eyes. Sometimes, when I caught myself admiring how handsome he looked in his sharp suit, he never spared me a single glance.
And now, as a King, he was doing it all over again — still bossy, still commanding, still distant.
"Whatever."
I muttered, grabbing the cleaning cloth and bucket to finally do what I had come here for before all the interruption. But as I turned, my gaze drifted to the King's desk, and my eyes narrowed.
"What is he hiding?"
The thought sparked in my mind before I could stop it. I set the bucket down, glanced once at the closed door, and slowly walked toward the table. A candle lamp flickered beside neat stacks of letters sealed with red wax, and beside them sat a thick, intimidating book with scattered parchments around it.
My hand stretched toward the book — then froze midair. The King's voice echoed sharply in my head: Don't touch anything.
"Ah, why do I have to be the good girl?" I muttered to myself.
A frustrated sigh slipped from my lips. I stared at the desk a second longer, then forced myself to turn away and continue cleaning the room. Still, my eyes kept wandering back to the table like a stubborn temptation I couldn't shake.
"No. No, Isabel," I whispered, scrubbing harder at the floor. "You will end up a scapegoat. I am not dying here of all places — I still need to find my bag and my phone."
My hands trembled slightly around the bucket, but I pretended not to notice and kept working. If only I had bubble wrap right now or chocolate. Whatever do they even eat in this world?
The moment I finished cleaning and everything gleamed in every corner, I stepped out of the room, draping the linen cloth over my shoulder with the bucket in my hand. Damn, I was exhausted, and hungry, and…
"You there."
I froze. My heart began to pound because I recognized that voice. It was the same voice I heard almost every day back home, except now it carried sharp authority.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. Heavens, I did not want to face her. It was already hard enough keeping my emotions from spilling over.
Slowly, I turned. She stood right in front of me with her hands on her waist, her maids flanking her sides. She might very well be the only concubine with this much power in the palace. Her brown skin glowed under the sunlight streaming through the stained windows.
"Still, you do not bow," she said.
Her lips curved into a knowing smile like she had just found her next source of entertainment. If only she knew that all I wanted was to go back to my world and tell her real version, Christi, you would not believe it, but you became the mean girl.
"I see," she continued, drumming her fingers lightly against her wrist.
My shoulders slumped from pure exhaustion; I did not even have the strength to bow my head. Seriously, how did people in this world survive like this?
Tyra stepped closer until she was directly in front of me, her eyes drilling into mine. She clicked her tongue sharply.
"You are a maid, and a maid has no place acting above herself," she warned coldly. "Do not act foolish, or I will make your life miserable."
'Hmm, just a concubine,' I thought, rolling my eyes and barely stifling a laugh.
"What did you say?" she snapped.
Oh no. I must have spoken out loud.
"Nothing, Lady Tyra," I said quickly.
"Good," she replied darkly. Then she raised her hand, and the maid beside her stepped forward holding a small golden box.
"Take it," Tyra ordered.
I stared at the box, then back at her. Take it for what exactly?
"Now!" she commanded.
Reluctantly, I accepted it, even though every instinct in me screamed not to. I did not trust her at all, yet part of me still hesitated because of Christi's face. Oh Isabel, she is not Christi. You need to remember that.
"Go to my room," Tyra continued. "There is a golden pendant on my desk. Put it inside."
A deep frown settled on my lips. She had countless servants, yet she wanted *me* to do this? Damn, I came from the future, not yesterday. This smelled like a trap from miles away.
Tyra turned to one of her maids. "Show her my room."
"Yes, my lady," the maid replied, bowing.
Tyra began to walk away, then suddenly paused. She turned back and gave me a smile that did not reach her eyes.
"And deliver tea to the dining hall. The King, his father, and I will be having breakfast." With that, she swept away. A low, incredulous laugh slipped from my lips as I watched her retreating figure.
Seriously, could I please just wake up from this dream already?