The days passed, and strangely enough.
I started getting used to it. At first,
it was just shoveling.
Then I started lifting stones.
Building walls, leveling ground—and who knows, maybe I was on my way to becoming a career builder.
My first day on the job, I felt like… well, a worker trapped in the kingdom's brutal system.
On the second day, I started figuring out how to keep my body from aching too much after hard labor.
On the third day, I discovered an efficient way to eat and even found that stale bread leftovers could make decent backup meals—and they were surprisingly filling.
As time went on.
My body grew stronger.
Even if still exhausted...
And—this is the weird part—I started feeling a bit proud.
Yeah, proud.
But on the fourteenth day.
After I'd lost count of how many times I'd fallen.
Clawed at the ground.
Or lifted stones bigger than my back, I started thinking:
How did it come to this?
I looked at my hands, dirty and scraped.
"Wait… Me, Aria, who used to spend her days in a tidy office with a clear job description, is now stuck here? A cheap laborer doing forced work for pay that doesn't even come close to fair…"
I looked around.
Some of my coworkers already looked like they'd given up on life.
They seemed… more at peace.
But one thing struck me as oddly amusing—they even looked comfortable.
One of them joked about the "15th paycheck" (meaning they'd already stopped caring about the 1st through 14th).
I bit my lip.
Is this what they mean by being trapped in a routine?
They said this job was temporary.
But why did I feel more and more at ease with it.
Like this had become my new life?.
Worse, my brain started whispering.
"Maybe I can last a few more days…"
But that is the biggest mistake I could make.
I had to snap out of it.
I couldn't let myself be lulled by this deceptive routine.
I couldn't forget my real goal—to escape all of this and find a way back to a normal life.
I was trapped, but I couldn't let myself be defeated.
I paused for a moment, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and leaned my shovel against my side. The other workers around me looked busy, not sparing me a glance. They were already caught in a very subtle trap.
I looked up at the rising sun, as if it were a reminder that I was still alive.
"Come on, Aria. Get up. Don't let this job become your life."
I lowered my gaze, took a deep breath, and decided—if I could survive this long, I could survive a little longer.
But I also needed to find a way out.
To find freedom again.
There would be a way out.
I just had to be smart enough to find it.
Day 21
At last, the construction project was finished.
The wall we had been building all this time now stood tall and firm.
As if mocking the workers who had slaved over it, stone by stone.
I stood there staring at the result of this forced labor, my body soaked in sweat and dotted with countless small wounds.
But the most painful part? Probably my pride.
The overseer approached us.
Walking like he'd just won a war.
"Good work. You're all dismissed starting tomorrow morning," he said, his voice blander than porridge with no salt.
Free.
A word that should have made me happy, but instead left me wondering:
Why did I stay this long? Why didn't I run like I originally planned?
Maybe… I was just too stubborn.
Or too lazy to think up a way out.
Or maybe I didn't want to leave like a loser.
Yeah, I made it through.
But it sure didn't feel like a victory.
After the overseer left, a few workers let out soft cheers.
One or two even raised their shovels like trophies.
I just sat on the ground, looking at my hands full of blisters, then up at the sky.
"So it's over, huh? Then why does it feel like I'm just starting to walk into hell?"
I knew one thing:
I couldn't stay here any longer.
The project might be finished, but if I stuck around waiting for the next one, I'd become part of the system for real.
Trapped—not because they forced me, but because I waited too long.
That night, I packed up.
No farewell party, no bonus.
Just a thin pouch with a few coins as "decent wages," not even enough to buy new sandals after my boots were completely ruined.
But I left with one important thing: resolve.
I didn't know where I'd go next, but I knew one thing for sure—I wouldn't be a royal construction worker for the rest of my life.
It was time to find a new life.
One that didn't involve stones, shovels, or "royal specialty meals" that tasted like betrayal.