Dream Comes True

The First Quiet Countermove

The knock came just as she finished hiding the last sheet of paper.

“Your Highness,” the maid said softly from outside, “you have been summoned.”

She did not panic.

The laptop slid beneath the inner panel of the desk.

The printer was pushed behind the old wooden screen.

The printed formulas were carefully tucked beneath stacks of untouched calligraphy scrolls.

Only when everything appeared exactly as before did she open the door.

“I’m coming,” she said calmly.

As she followed the maid through the long corridor, her thoughts raced—not with fear, but calculation.

What is it this time?

Then a memory surfaced.

The book.

Her steps slowed for a brief heartbeat.

The necklace.

In the story, the Ninth Princess had been framed for stealing the Second Princess’s necklace.

Last time, she had apologized.

And she had suffered.

If I apologize again… it will never end.

She needed proof.

Or a redirection.

She stopped abruptly.

“Give me two minutes,” she said quietly.

The maid hesitated, then nodded.

She turned back and went straight to the place etched clearly in her memory.

Behind the loose floorboard.

Her fingers lifted it.

There it was.

The necklace.

Exactly where the Second Princess had hidden it in the novel.

Her chest tightened.

The plot hasn’t changed.

She picked it up—then paused.

If I take this to Father… he’ll still believe I stole it.

Her gaze shifted down the corridor.

Someone was approaching.

The Second Princess’s maid.

Her decision formed instantly.

She stepped forward—and deliberately collided.

“Oh—!” she gasped softly, steadying herself.

As they separated, her fingers slipped.

The necklace vanished into the maid’s sleeve.

She turned and walked on as if nothing had happened.

The throne room was heavy with tension.

“She stole my necklace,” the Second Princess said coldly. “Search her room.”

Her heart beat steadily.

“I did not take it,” the Ninth Princess replied.

The Second Princess smiled faintly.

“Then you have nothing to fear.”

The Emperor turned his gaze toward her.

She inhaled slowly.

“Very well,” she said.

“But Father—if nothing is found, then false accusations should also be punished.”

The court fell silent.

After a moment, the Emperor nodded.

“Search.”

Her room was scoured.

Nothing.

Not even a trace.

The Second Princess’s expression hardened.

“That’s impossible,” she snapped. “Search again.”

Then the Ninth Princess spoke, her voice calm.

“Perhaps… your maid took it.”

The Emperor lifted his hand.

“Search the maid.”

The guards moved forward.

The necklace slipped from the maid’s sleeve and hit the floor.

Gasps echoed through the hall.

“I didn’t steal it!” the maid cried.

She fell to her knees and bowed deeply before the Emperor, her forehead pressed to the cold floor in a desperate plea.

Her heart pounded as she tried to speak—but fear crushed her voice, and her words came out wrong.

“I… I hid it in the Ninth Princess’s room.”

The moment the words left her mouth, realization struck like lightning.

Her face drained of color.

“No—please listen!” she cried, shaking violently. “I didn’t choose that place myself. I was told to do it! The Second Princess—she ordered me to hide it in the Ninth Princess’s room!”

She bowed again and again, hands trembling, desperation clinging to every breath.

The Second Princess struck her.

“Lies!”

But the truth had already surfaced.

The maid collapsed, sobbing.

“The Second Princess ordered me,” she confessed brokenly.

“She told me to place it in the Ninth Princess’s room!”

Silence fell.

The Emperor’s gaze darkened.

The maid was dragged away.

The Second Princess stepped forward at once, her voice sharp and controlled.

“Father Emperor, this maid is a thief. She is trying to frame me—and even now, she dares to shift the blame again.”

The Emperor frowned.

He had always doted on the Second Princess.

Doubt clouded his eyes.

Perhaps the maid was lying.

He turned to the Ninth Princess.

“Very well. The matter is settled. You may go now.”

But the Ninth Princess did not move.

Instead, she stepped forward and bowed deeply, her posture steady, her expression composed.

“Father… you once said that false accusations must be punished.”

The court went completely still.

She lowered her gaze and bowed again.

“I leave the judgment to Father.”

A long pause followed—heavy and deliberate.

The Emperor’s fingers tightened around the armrest of his throne.

At last, he spoke.

“The Second Princess shall copy the palace rules ten times.”

A ripple of restrained shock passed through the court.

“The court is dismissed.”

As she left, she felt it.

The Second Princess’s stare—furious, confused.

Since when did she change?

Back in her room, she sat down slowly.

Survival alone isn’t enough.

If she remained dependent, she would always be vulnerable.

She needed money.

So she made her decision.

She would sell food in the market.

That night, she began carefully. First, she prepared fresh paneer. With it, she cooked a rich paneer masala and soft garlic naan, warm and fragrant.

When everything was ready, she carried the dishes to her mother.

“Mother,” she said softly, “please taste this.”

Consort Lu took a bite—and paused.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“This is… very good,” she said, surprised. “Since when did you learn to cook like this? And what dish is this?”

Khushi’s heart tightened.

She lowered her voice and replied gently, “I practiced in secret. I was afraid… if the Second Princess found out, both you and I might be in danger. Recently, I tried a new recipe and made this. How is it?”

Consort Lu smiled warmly and took another bite.

“It’s wonderful,” she said. “You did very well.”

Encouraged, Khushi gathered her courage.

“Mother,” she asked carefully, “may I sell this food at a stall in the market?”

Her mother looked startled.

“A stall? You? How could you possibly—”

“Don’t worry,” Khushi said quickly. “I won’t remove my veil. Maid Li will help sell it. I’ll only cook the food. Please… please permit me.”

She clasped her hands together and made an exaggerated, pitiful expression—eyes wide, lips slightly pouted.

A perfect puppy face.

Consort Lu laughed softly.

“Alright,” she said at last, smiling. “You have my permission.”

Khushi’s eyes lit up.

The next morning, she prepared the food carefully, waking before dawn. She asked Maid Li to arrange a small stall in the market and helped her set everything up.

The market was lively and crowded—but no one stopped at their stall.

Minutes passed.

Then more.

Khushi frowned slightly and leaned toward Maid Li.

“Shout that free samples are being given,” she whispered.

Maid Li hesitated, then called out loudly.

“Free food samples! Come taste!”

At the same time, Khushi placed the garlic naan into the tandoor and reheated the paneer masala. The rich aroma spread quickly through the air.

People began to gather.

They tasted.

And their expressions changed.

Soon, customers started buying eagerly.

She sold each plate for eighty taels. Some thought the price was a little high—but none of them had ever tasted anything like this before.

They loved it.

Plates emptied one after another.

Before she realized it, the ingredients were gone.

“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically to the waiting customers. “It’s finished for today. I’ll return tomorrow.”

Though disappointed, they left with smiles.

Khushi and Maid Li returned to the palace just before evening.

Inside her room, Khushi counted the taels carefully. She handed a portion to Maid Li.

“For your hard work,” she said sincerely.

Maid Li’s eyes shone with gratitude.

As Khushi held the remaining money, her heart felt light.

If this continues, she thought, I’ll earn more and more. One day… I’ll be able to live freely. Comfortably. In luxury.

For the first time in a long while—

The future felt possible.

That night, exhaustion finally settled in.

She lay down on the unfamiliar bed and sighed.

“Even the pillow here is bad,” she muttered.

“My old bed was better.”

An idea struck her.

She returned to her own world.

After college, she went straight home.

Her grandmother looked up in surprise when she entered so early.

“You’re back already from college?”

“My head hurts,” she replied calmly. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

She changed her clothes and picked up her pillow—

Then paused.

I should take more, she thought. Recipes… and gifts for Father and Mother.

She printed two more recipes, along with designs for a bracelet and earrings.

Carefully, she placed them with the pillow.

And then she returned.

That night, she slept deeply—for the first time since entering the palace.

The next morning, she went back to open her stall.

Almost immediately, she sensed it.

Hostility.

Several nearby vendors were watching her closely—their earnings had dropped because of her stall.

They stepped forward, voices sharp.

“Leave this market,” one of them warned. “You’re taking our customers.”

Khushi met their gaze calmly.

“I have permission from the court to do business here,” she replied firmly. “I am not breaking any rules.”

Her composure unsettled them.

Without another word, she began her work.

Soon, the familiar aroma drew people in again.

A nearby restaurant owner watched carefully.

After a while, he approached and spoke politely, though his tone carried urgency.

“My lady, I would like to speak with you about business. May I invite you inside?”

Khushi considered for a moment—then nodded.

With Maid Li beside her, she entered the restaurant.

The owner wasted no time.

“Will you sell this recipe to me?”

Khushi fell into deep thought.

A princess running a street stall… it isn’t appropriate.

And it’s exhausting.

Selling the recipe would give her security—and distance.

“I’ll sell it,” she said calmly.

“For ten thousand silver.”

They laughed.

“That’s far too much.”

“If I don’t earn this much in one go,” she replied evenly,

“Who will protect me tomorrow?”

The room fell quiet.

“Twenty thousand,” she added. “And I’ll include another recipe.”

She placed the dishes before them.

They tasted.

Silence followed.

Then excitement.

“What is this called?” one of them asked eagerly.

“Paneer Butter Masala,” she replied.

“And the second—Manchurian.”

They exchanged looks.

Then nodded.

She explained the ingredients, the methods, and the balance of flavors.

Silver exchanged hands.

She returned to the palace with gifts.

For her mother and her father, emperror.

As she held them, Khushi felt a quiet warmth bloom in her chest.

This time, she hadn’t just survived.

She had chosen her path.

And it was only the beginning.

And she goes to her mother's room with a gift.

“My first earnings,” she said softly.

Consort Lu’s eyes filled with tears.

“You’re becoming independent,” she whispered.

When the Emperor heard of it, he was surprised.

He summoned her.