What's worse than being born in the 21st century, working as a personal assistant who opens the door for her boss and brews his coffee every morning?
Being thrown into the past as one of the king's maids.
Yes. You heard that right. A maid. when fate could have at least had the decency to make me a princess.
My name is Isabel. Nice name, I know. People expect girls with pretty names to have pretty faces and hourglass figures. Instead, here I am with a petite frame, ordinary brown hair, and big doll-like eyes you usually only see in anime. Of course, why wouldn't fate be cruel?
One moment, I was in the office, spilling coffee all over my desk and possibly on my boss's ridiculously expensive shoes. The next, a blinding flash of light exploded before my eyes, and boom.
I was standing in a line of girls before a towering castle.
"Silence!"
The guard's sharp voice snapped me back to reality or rather, into my new nightmare.
I clutched my handbag and blinked around. The air was crisp. Trees swayed gracefully, their leaves rustling as the breeze carried the scent of sea salt and peppermint. No smoky cars. No pollution. I would admit, it was beautiful, almost peaceful.
Until I noticed one of the guards in shining silver armor staring at me as if I had just crawled out of a dragon's cave. His eyes narrowed, and that was when it hit me.
Right, my clothes.
While the other girls wore neat, laced gowns and delicate gloves, I stood there in a brown trench coat over a black mini dress, paired with dark winter boots that looked far too modern. I was, quite literally, a walking time travel mistake.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned to me. Fingers pointed. I caught a few gasps, even a hint of awe.
Then the guard stepped forward.
Oh no.
"You there!"
Oh God, please no. I did not want to be the center of attention. Heaven forbid I get dragged into a dungeon or prison. I just wanted to go back and finish the workloads waiting on my desk.
A low growl escaped his lips, and I stiffened. Even with the helmet covering his face, I could feel the sternness radiating off him. My stomach twisted. So this is how it starts. Me, Isabel. Personal assistant and coffee spiller extraordinaire. About to be executed for a fashion crime.
His eyes roamed over my clothes, slowly taking me in. Yeah, right. Go ahead and stare like I am some kind of spy, you weirdo. I do not even know how I got here.
A moment later, he turned to the other guards. They leaned closer, whispering among themselves, mouths moving so fast I could not catch a single word.
Okay. Now I am curious. Whatever they are talking about should not involve me. I do not want to—
Grab!
A strong, muscular hand seized my arm. A guard built like an undertaker loomed over me, staring down with his lips twisted into something unreadable.
"She is a different one," he said loudly.
The others nodded. "She is the right pick."
Wait. What? Right pick for what?
"Uhm, excuse me. This is a mistake. Literally. I…"
I what? What was I even supposed to say? That I was from the twenty first century? Who would believe that? I could barely believe it myself.
"The thing is," I continued, a huge lump sliding down my throat, "listen, big guys. I do not know how I got here. Haha." I laughed weakly as they continued to stare at me. "I am not from this place. This world, actually. Could you give me a moment to think, so I can find a way to go back?"
His hand tightened around mine, and I flinched.
"Can you let go of my hand?"
I tried to struggle, but he only held on harder. "Silence!" His voice thundered, and I whimpered like a cat that had been deprived of food.
I shook my head. I must be going mad. My boss was probably losing his mind the moment he realized his personal assistant had vanished. Even if he barely noticed me, I knew his day to day schedule. I prepared all his meetings and engagements. I was the one he relied on to handle the things he never had time for.
Wait!
Something hit me.
I slapped a hand over my mouth. Right. He had been standing next to me while I was half asleep and probably drooling over my desk. He had tapped the table, I jumped, the coffee spilled, and then..
I clenched my fists, heart pounding wildly. What had gone wrong? Did he do something to me?
"Strange accent. Also dressed like a spy," the guard holding me muttered.
A spy? Seriously, he cannot be thinking that far..
"Take her," the other guard ordered.
Before I could even breathe, the large hand gripping me began dragging me toward the castle gates.
"Wait, you have got the wrong girl!" They were not listening. "Seriously! My day has already been terrible. Hey, are you even listening? I am not a spy, I swear!"
I screamed. I kicked. But it was hard to fight when you were struggling against a mountain. A mountain with muscles. Eventually, I gave up on the tantrum and simply followed them, lips pouting and pride completely shattered.
We moved through the courtyard and into the castle, and all my fatigue vanished as I took in how vast it was, stones carved into horse shapes, fountains of water, and neatly trimmed grass stretching endlessly around us. We reached one of the corridors, lined with stained glass that poured in the glow of the setting sun. Maids in uniform black and white dresses paused mid step, their eyes following me, every single one of them, as if I were an alien dropped from the sky.
I paid them no attention, too busy staring at how the stone walls stretched high above me, carved with symbols that glowed faintly beneath the sunlight.
I shook my head. I should not have been noticing the beauty around me, none of it mattered anyway. My mind was a mess, spinning wildly as I tried to find a way out of this, to remember any tiny detail I might have missed that brought me here.
My boss. Those angry stares and constant sneers. Only heaven knows what awaited me.
But all thoughts of him vanished when we stopped before a set of double doors and they swung open, dragging me straight into the throne room.
You know those Cinderella fairy tales we watched as kids, the glittering castle halls with endless stairs? This was exactly that, except this one was enormous.
The chandelier above glowed like captured starlight, the golden throne at the center shining brighter than anything I had ever seen. Men surrounded it, seated on large silver chairs, dressed in fine tailored suits, all tall, broad, and serious with narrowed eyes. They had to be elders of the court, judging by the gray in their hair.
I did not get much time to take in their faces because I was still being pulled forward toward the golden throne, where a man sat.
A man very big and broad, his chin rested lazily on his hand. His gaze was turned sideways, eyes closed as if in deep thought, but I caught the smooth lines of his jaw and his..
His royal robe.
Wait! Was this even allowed in the past? Wearing an open robe, or was he an exception because he was the king? Oh God, beneath the open robe was a tanned, sun kissed, finely built, absolutely illegal chest.
Ah, look away, Isabel.
But I couldn't. My eyes betrayed me, drinking in every line of him. Damn, those were some fine chests, and he was so young, too young, yet his presence filled the hall around me like thunder waiting to strike. I could not even feel my feet.
Whatever world I had fallen into, I clearly had not studied enough history for this. Enough to know his name, what kind of king he was. He better not be a tyrant.
He lifted his head slowly, far too slowly, until his dark gaze beneath thick lashes fell on me. When our eyes met, my breath hitched, all the air left my lungs in that moment. Not only was he too gorgeous to be real, but he was also far too familiar.
This was a face I saw almost every single day.
My lips parted, and despite how hard it was to breathe or speak, one word slipped out:
"Boss."