The marble corridors of the royal academy echoed with the soft click of my polished shoes as I emerged from Master Aldwin's study room.
I had barely taken three steps when I spotted her.
Serena stood approximately ten meters down the corridor, her silhouette rigid with barely contained fury. Even from this distance, I could see the telltale signs of her irritation—the way her perfectly manicured fingers drummed against her crossed arms, the slight tap of her silk slipper against the polished floor, and that particular tilt of her chin that spoke of royal indignation.
Behind her, like wilted flowers in a storm, cowered her three personal maids.
"What have you been doing to make me—a royal princess wait like some common merchant in a marketplace?" She asked coldly.
The three maids seemed to shrink further into themselves, and I noticed one of them had actually begun to mouth what appeared to be a funeral prayer.
I straightened my shoulders and approached with measured steps, keeping my expression neutral despite the growing tension. "I sincerely apologize, Your Highness. I was expressing my gratitude to Master Aldwin for his exceptional instruction today. Coming from humble origins, I wanted to properly acknowledge the privilege of learning from such a distinguished scholar of the realm."
The explanation hung in the air between us like morning mist, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes—perhaps understanding, or even approval. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that familiar mask of royal authority.
"And?" She replied, her tone growing sharper. "Need I remind you that your main duty is to serve as my personal butler? You should have been following directly behind me, not indulging in your own social pleasantries." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "You have no right—absolutely none—to make me wait, butler."
The way she emphasized the word 'butler' stung more than I cared to admit. It wasn't just the reminder of my station, but the deliberate distance she was placing between us. Just moments ago, I had been admiring her intelligence during the lesson, the way she had easily grasped complex philosophical concepts that challenged even the most learned scholars. But now, like a theater mask being flipped, she had returned to her role as the pampered princess.
A familiar vein of of annoyance throbbed in my temple. I forced my lips into a polite smile, though I suspected it looked more like a grimace. I could do nothing but one thing in such moments.
I sank to one knee bowing my head in the traditional gesture of contrition. The cold marble bit through my dark trousers, but I ignored the discomfort. "I humbly apologize, Your Highness, for my inexcusable breach of protocol. I will accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate."
The moment the word 'punishment' left my lips, I knew I had made a grave error.
Serena's entire demeanor shifted, like a cat that had just spotted a particularly interesting mouse. A wide smile spread across her features, and her eyes lit up with a gleam that sent an uncomfortable chill down my spine.
"Punishment," she repeated, savoring the word as if it were a fine wine. "How very interesting."
My blood ran cold as fragmented memories from that cursed dream rushed back to me. In the twisted vision of the future I had witnessed, 'punishment' had become Princess Serena's favorite word—usually preceding acts of cruelty that would make seasoned soldiers weep. The way she had smiled before ordering executions, the light in her eyes before decreeing public tortures, the almost musical quality her voice took on when she spoke of creative ways to break her enemies.
I had to suppress a shudder. Had I just planted the seed of that terrible transformation by uttering that word?
"Your Highness," I began carefully, hoping to redirect the conversation, "perhaps we should discuss your afternoon schedule instead?"
But Serena was clearly savoring the moment, her fingers now tapping against her arm. "Oh yes, my schedule. Tell me, what delightful academic pursuits await me?"
I cleared my throat, still maintaining my kneeling position. "You have Arithmetic lessons with Professor Mathias after lunch, Your Highness, followed by—"
"Hmm," she interrupted, pressing a finger to her lips. "But I find myself in need of some fresh air before subjecting myself to numbers and calculations. A walk in the gardens would be refreshing, don't you think?" Her smile widened. "However, I'm feeling rather... fatigued after sitting through that tedious philosophy lesson. I believe I'll require assistance with my constitutional."
The way she said 'assistance' made my stomach drop. I had a terrible suspicion about what form this assistance might take.
"Of course, Your Highness," I replied, though every instinct I possessed was screaming warnings. "How may I be of service?"
"Oh, you'll see soon enough, my dear butler."
Twenty minutes later, I found myself in the most humiliating position of my life.
The royal gardens stretched out before us in all their manicured glory—perfectly trimmed hedges forming intricate patterns, fountains dancing in the afternoon sunlight, and flower beds bursting with exotic blooms from across the kingdom. It should have been a peaceful, dignified setting for an afternoon stroll.
Instead, I was crawling on my hands and knees across the immaculate lawn, with Princess Serena perched on my back like I was some sort of exotic mount.
The grass was soft beneath my palms, thankfully, but the indignity of my position more than made up for any physical comfort. My formal butler's uniform—which had been so pristine and proper—was now wrinkled and strained, the knees of my trousers already showing green stains from the damp earth.
Serena sat sidesaddle across my back with the poise of someone born to command, her legs crossed elegantly while one hand held a delicate lace parasol to shield her porcelain skin from the sun. Her other hand rested on my head, occasionally patting me like one might pet a favored hound.
"That's wonderful," she said giggled excitedly. "Now, a bit faster, if you please. This pace is hardly suitable for a proper constitutional."
The worst part wasn't the physical strain—though supporting the weight of a full-grown person while crawling wasn't exactly comfortable. No, the worst part was the audience.
Nobles taking their own afternoon strolls paused to stare, some covering their mouths with fans to hide their giggles, others not bothering to conceal their amusement at all. A group of young lords near the rose garden had actually stopped their conversation entirely to watch the spectacle.
"Is that really the princess's new butler?" I heard one whisper.
"Poor fellow," came another voice. "I heard he's supposed to be quite accomplished too."
"Well, he's certainly accomplished at being a pack animal," someone else added, prompting another round of barely suppressed laughter.
My face burned with embarrassment, the heat spreading from my cheeks down to my neck. I focused on the ground ahead of me, counting the individual blades of grass as a distraction from the humiliation.
Think of it as playing with a child, I told myself desperately. Just a harmless game with a young girl who doesn't know any better.
"Oh, this is delightful," Serena said, adjusting her position slightly and causing me to wobble. "I should have thought of this sooner. You make a surprisingly adequate steed, butler."
Her hand continued its patronizing pats on my head. I could feel her enjoyment radiating from above, the way she savored every moment of my degradation.
Damn you, father, I thought bitterly, for maneuvering me into this position.
"Faster. We haven't all day, and I want to see how you handle the path around the fountain."
I gritted my teeth and picked up the pace.
It was then that I heard the melodious sound of familiar voices drifting across the garden. Two women were engaged in what appeared to be an animated conversation near the ornate marble fountain, their elaborate gowns rustling softly in the gentle breeze.
When I lifted my gaze from my undignified position on all fours, my heart nearly stopped. Approaching us with measured, regal steps was none other than Queen Loreina of Ruthelphia herself. Even from a distance, her presence attracted attention—she moved with the fluid grace of someone born to rule, her midnight-blue hair adorned with a delicate silver circlet that caught the sunlight like captured starlight. Her gown, a masterpiece of deep burgundy silk embroidered with golden roses, seemed to flow around her like liquid nobility.
Beside her walked a woman I recognized immediately as Lady Lydia Alasmira, the Duchess and wife of Duke Alasmira—Queen Loreina's younger brother, which made her Princess Serena's aunt by marriage. Lydia was a striking woman in her own right, with auburn hair styled in an elaborate updo and amused eyes. Her emerald green dress, while less ostentatious than the Queen's, spoke of refined taste and considerable wealth.
The two women had been deep in discussion about what appeared to be matters of court, their voices carrying the particular cadence of those accustomed to wielding influence behind palace walls. But as they drew closer to our little spectacle, their conversation gradually died away, replaced by expressions of surprise and, in the Queen's case, growing concern.
Queen Loreina's perfectly sculpted eyebrows drew together in a frown as she took in the sight before her—her daughter perched triumphantly on my back while I crawled across the immaculate lawn like some sort of domesticated animal.
"Serena! What in heaven's name are you doing to this poor boy?"
I felt Serena straighten slightly on my back, but her tone remained defiant, almost proud. "Punishing him, Mother," she replied with the matter-of-fact delivery of someone stating an obvious truth.
The Queen's frown deepened? "Punishing him? And pray tell, what terrible transgression warranted such... creative discipline?"
"He made me wait," Serena answered, as if this simple statement explained everything.
I couldn't see the Queen's full reaction from my position, but I heard her draw in a sharp breath—whether from exasperation, embarrassment, or maternal concern, I couldn't be sure.
Duchess Lydia, meanwhile, seemed to find the entire situation rather amusing. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she approached us. She moved, her silk skirts rustling against the grass as she leaned down slightly, placing her perfectly manicured hands on her knees to bring herself closer to Serena's eye level.
"How are you faring today, my dear Serena?" Lydia asked warmly. Despite the absurdity of the situation, she managed to maintain the social graces expected of her station while clearly enjoying the drama unfolding before her.
Serena's entire demeanor shifted in response to her aunt's attention, the imperious princess melting away to reveal something more genuinely childlike. "I am very well, Aunt Lydia," she replied, her smile brightening considerably. It was remarkable how quickly she could transform from tyrant to charming young lady when it suited her purposes.
Lydia's eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced down at me, then back to her niece. "Don't you think," she said with careful diplomacy, "that your butler might be suffering quite a bit in this position? After all, he won't be able to serve you properly if he becomes injured, will he?"
Thank you, I thought fervently, sending up a silent prayer of gratitude to whatever gods might be listening. Finally, someone with sense.
Serena paused, her expression shifting to one of thoughtful consideration. For a moment, I could see her weighing her desire to continue the humiliation against the practical wisdom of her aunt's words.
"You are quite right, Aunt," she finally conceded, though I detected a note of reluctance in her voice. "Your punishment is concluded, butler."
The relief that flooded through me was so intense I nearly collapsed on the spot. I groaned involuntarily as Serena dismounted, my knees screaming in protest as I slowly, carefully pushed myself back to a standing position. Every joint in my body seemed to creak like old floorboards, and I could feel the dampness from the grass seeping through the fabric of my trousers.
I began the undignified process of brushing off my uniform, watching with dismay as green stains and bits of grass fell from my previously pristine outfit. My formal butler's attire—carefully pressed and maintained that very morning—now looked like I had been wrestling with the garden itself. The knees of my dark trousers were particularly damaged, stained with green streaks that would likely require professional cleaning to remove.
As I attempted to restore some semblance of dignity to my appearance, I became aware of an intense gaze fixed upon me. When I raised my eyes, I found Queen Loreina studying my face with an expression I couldn't quite decipher—surprise, recognition, and something that might have been nostalgia all mingled together.
"Um... Your Majesty?" I said, suddenly feeling nervous under such scrutiny.
The Queen was even more breathtaking up close than she had been from a distance. It was immediately clear where Princess Serena had inherited her ethereal beauty—the same perfect bone structure, the same luminous skin that seemed to glow from within, the same captivating eyes that could shift from warm to imperious in a heartbeat. But where Serena's beauty still carried the softness of youth, her mother's had been refined by years of wisdom and experience into something truly magnificent.
"You look remarkably like Bianca," she said softly speaking about my mother.
I felt my heart swell with pride at the comparison. "I am deeply honored to hear that, Your Majesty," I replied, offering a respectful bow despite my disheveled state.
Queen Loreina giggled. She stepped closer, close enough that I could catch the faint scent of her perfume—something delicate and floral that spoke of gardens and springtime.
"Please forgive my daughter," she whispered conspiratorially, her voice so low that only I could hear. "She can be... difficult. The truth is, she feels quite lonely much of the time."
The unexpected insight into Serena's behavior caught me off guard. "There is nothing to forgive, Your Majesty," I replied, managing what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "I understand completely."
And in that moment, I found myself struck by a rather inconvenient realization: Queen Loreina was absolutely magnificent. Her compassion, her grace, her stunning beauty—if I had been chosen to serve as her personal attendant instead of her daughter's, I would have crawled across every garden in the kingdom without a single complaint.
And no I wasn't a masochist.
"What are you whispering about, butler?!" Serena's voice cut through the air with barely contained irritation. The jealousy in her tone was clearly there, she did not appreciate sharing her mother's attention.
She was clearly the possessive type thinking of me and her maids as belonging to her.
The Queen straightened gracefully. "Nothing of consequence, sweetheart. I was simply informing him that Hector will be arriving next week for a visit."
The transformation in Serena was immediate and startling. The imperious princess vanished as if she had never existed, replaced by a blushing, stammering girl who suddenly seemed to forget how to use her own voice.
"H-Hector?" Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink that would have been cute if I hadn't known what I did about her future.
Lord Hector Castellane, heir to Duke Castellane's considerable fortune and influence. In the twisted game that had haunted my dreams, he had been positioned as the rival to the protagonist, Allan Reeves—the dashing young man destined to win the heart of the story's heroine. More importantly, from Serena's perspective, Hector had been her childhood crush, the object of years of carefully hidden affection.
Unfortunately, according to the game's storyline, Hector would eventually fall head over heels for the main heroine, earning him Serena's eternal hatred and jealousy. It was one of the key turning points that would transform her from a spoiled but relatively harmless princess into the vindictive villainess of my nightmares.
A truly game for women's audience.
Yet in that dream of another life, I had spent countless sleepless nights in my previous life playing through that very storyline, trying to unlock every possible ending and character route.
"Yes, indeed he is," Queen Loreina confirmed with a knowing smile, clearly delighted by her daughter's reaction. Her eyes sparkled with maternal amusement as she watched Serena struggle to regain her composure.
The princess took a deep breath, visibly attempting to summon her royal dignity. "T-Then I shall prepare to receive my... my subject appropriately! Butler!" Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.
"Your Highness, if I may remind you, Lord Hector's visit is scheduled for next week," I said gently, hoping to save her from further embarrassment.
"Silence, butler!" Serena snapped, her face now crimson with mortification. "Did I give you permission to speak? Hold your tongue!"
I wisely closed my mouth and offered a placating bow, recognizing the signs of a royal tantrum brewing just beneath the surface.
Behind us, I could hear the melodious sound of Queen Loreina and Duchess Lydia barely suppressing their laughter at the entire exchange.