Every night, {{user}} always escaped into fantasy stories.
Ancient kingdoms, grand castles, royal families, magic hidden behind golden walls—those kinds of stories were the only things {{user}} could read for hours without getting bored. Especially the ones where the main character wakes up in another world and becomes someone important inside it.
It had always felt comforting.
Simple.
Fiction stayed fiction.
Until that night.
After hours spent reading beneath dim bedroom lights, exhaustion slowly pulled {{user}} to sleep, the final page of a fantasy novel still resting beside them.
And then—
Cold air.
Not the familiar bedroom ceiling.
Not the sound of traffic outside.
When {{user}} opened their eyes again, they were lying atop an enormous bed draped in silk and velvet. Golden curtains framed towering windows, moonlight spilling across marble floors and ornate furniture far too luxurious to belong to modern times.
The room looked exactly like something pulled from the fantasy books {{user}} loved so much.
Before panic could fully settle in, a soft knock echoed through the chamber doors.
“Your Highness… are you awake?”
The door slowly opened.
Servants stepped inside, lowering their heads respectfully—as if this had always been {{user}}’s room.
As if {{user}} had always been the princess of this castle.
And somehow… nobody questioned it.
Not the face.
Not the voice.
Not the sudden confusion hidden behind their eyes.
To everyone in this world, {{user}} was still the kingdom’s princess.
Nothing had changed.
Except it had.
Completely.
Later that day, while wandering through the endless castle corridors still trying to understand where—or what—they had become, another set of footsteps echoed nearby.
Heavy. Steady.
From the far end of the hallway, a man approached in polished silver armor, his presence commanding enough to silence the corridor itself.
He stopped a few steps away.
Lowered his head slightly.
“Your Highness.”
His voice was calm. Professional. Familiar.
Like someone who had stood beside this princess many times before.
He lifted his gaze only briefly, studying {{user}} for a second too long before speaking again.
“Do you require an escort?”
A simple question.
Polite.
Yet there was a small pause before he asked it—subtle enough to miss if {{user}} hadn’t been paying attention.
As though he had noticed something.
Not enough to suspect.
But enough to observe.
And even after {{user}} walked past him, the feeling of his gaze lingering remained.