His throne,her war

laughter,lies,lys

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The next morning brought a strange . Light sense of calm—the kind that almost felt suspicious. Light spilled in from the c***k between the curtains, dust particles dancing in its golden beam. The scent of lavender still clung to the blanket Emylia had tucked around my shoulders the night before. For a second, I just lay there, half-awake, letting the quiet stretch around me.

I wasn’t Kael.

But I was in Kael’s body—curled up in a bed that felt too soft, in a room too gentle for someone whose name was so heavily cursed.

The dress Emylia had put me in was a muted lilac, delicate embroidery tracing the sleeves and neckline. It hung loosely around my body, far from the military garb Kael once wore. It wasn’t masculine. It wasn’t armored. It was… gentle.

It looked more like me.

Shoulder-length white hair framed my face, silky and far too beautiful to belong to the infamous general I was said to be. Front bangs tickled my lashes, and I sighed as I sat up, combing the strands behind my ear with trembling fingers.

A knock came. Soft. Polite.

"Come in," I said, my voice still hoarse.

Emylia entered with a tray balanced in her hands, her honey-brown eyes brightening when she saw me. "You’re awake again. That’s good. How are you feeling today?"

"Sore," I admitted.

She set the tray on the table and pulled a chair beside the bed. "Still, you’re looking much better. Eat before it cools."

The food smelled comforting—cinnamon oats, warm bread, and a tiny glass of herbal tonic. I picked up the spoon with a shaky hand.

I watched Emylia as I took the first bite. She was folding the blanket at my feet with quiet care, her presence warm and steady. There were so many things I wanted to ask her. Why she hadn’t flinched when she saw me. Why she hadn’t called me a monster. Why she, of all people, was being kind to someone the world believed to be a villain.

Finally, I asked, "Why are you helping me? Even after… everything?"

She paused, then sat back down and folded her hands in her lap. "Because you saved my brother’s life. And because I believe that people are more than what others say about them."

I looked down. "Most people don’t."

"Well," she said, her tone lighter, "most people are sheep."

I let out a short laugh. Not a sarcastic one. A real one.

"There you go," she said, her face glowing with satisfaction. "I was worried you’d forgotten how."

"well i didnt"

Just then, the door creaked open.

It was lys..the girl who helped me...

*i looked at her then at emylia*

"Is lys your sister?* i asked curiously

"yes she is"

holding a ragdoll under one arm and a wooden sword in the other. Her messy black curls bounced as she approached.

Emylia beamed. "Lys! What are you doing up so early?"

this was Lys. Not a towering knight. Not a fearsome general.

A child.Who saved me...like her sister...

She approached the bed and stared at me curiously. " Kael..... You look like a fairy."

I choked on my tonic.

Emylia laughed and patted my back gently. "Lys, that’s not polite."

"But it’s true! Her hair’s all shiny and white like the moon. And she’s wearing a dress."

I blushed furiously. It was the first time someone had gave me a compliment about my appearance out loud without hesitation. Even if Lys didn’t understand what it meant, it pierced through the fog of everything I’d buried for so long. As kael...as yume....

"I’m not a fairy," I muttered.

"Then maybe you’re a princess," she said with a grin, hopping up onto the foot of the bed.

Emylia gave me a look that said, Welcome to the whirlwind.

Lys launched into a story about a bird who stole her bread the previous day, flapping her arms and mimicking squawking sounds. I listened, slightly dazed, while Emylia bit back laughter. At some point, Lys picked up my spoon and tried to feed me.

"I can do it myself," I protested.

"You’re a patient," she said firmly, spooning up a bite.

I opened my mouth reluctantly, and Emylia shook with silent laughter.

It was chaotic. It was ridiculous. It was the first time in either of my lives that I’d felt something like this. Like family.

Lys eventually curled up at the foot of the bed, yawning.

"She always does this," Emylia whispered. "If she likes you, she sleeps near you."

I tucked the blanket around the girl gently.

"You’re good with kids," Emylia said, watching me.

I paused. "I’ve never had much experience"

She just smiled and placed her hand over mine. Warm. Steady.

"You’re not alone anymore."

And for the first time, I started to believe her.

I lay there for a while, letting my thoughts drift, the soft rustle of the curtains and the occasional creak of the house almost soothing in their quiet rhythm. My fingers traced the edge of the blanket, the fabric soft beneath them. The gentle warmth from the window seemed to embrace me, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sensation ground me.

I wasn’t used to this kind of gentleness. Not in my past life, and certainly not in Kael’s. But now, wrapped in this soft, foreign skin, I was learning how to let go—just a little. The fear that had been gnawing at me, the panic of being Kael, of being in a world where I didn’t belong, was starting to feel like something I could breathe through. Not that it was gone completely.

But it was quieter now.

I let my eyes linger on Lys, still curled up peacefully at the foot of the bed, and I smiled softly. I hadn’t been expecting to feel so… connected to someone, especially not so quickly. Lys’s innocent warmth had a way of breaking through the cold shell I’d built around myself.

"Maybe she’s right," I murmured to myself, "Maybe this could be home."

The door creaked open again, and Emylia stepped back inside, carrying a small tray with another cup of tea. She set it down carefully beside the bed before sitting down on the chair again. Her presence was like a steady anchor, calm but not invasive.

"I’ll let you rest for a bit," she said, her eyes soft as she watched me. "But I need to ask—how are you really feeling? I know you’ve been through a lot."

Her voice was gentle, as if she expected me to pull away from the question, but I didn’t. Not this time. I took a breath and answered honestly.

"Confused," I said, my voice quieter than usual. "Lost."

Emylia’s smile was understanding. "I think that's normal, considering everything you’ve been through. But you’re not alone, Kael. We’re here."

The sound of Lys’s soft snoring interrupted the moment, and I let out a breath of laughter, the sound awkward at first but slowly more comfortable. Emylia raised an eyebrow at me, her smile widening.

"You’re already bonding with her," she said teasingly. "She doesn’t usually take to people this quickly."

"I think I’m still too stunned to do much else," I replied, my voice a bit drier than I meant. "I never expected to be here. In this place. In this… body." the last line i said to myself...

Emylia’s expression softened, and she reached out, placing a hand on mine. Her touch was gentle but firm, like a lifeline being offered in a sea of uncertainty.

"You're not alone here, Kael. I know it might not feel like much right now, but we’ll get through this together. And you don’t have to be anyone but yourself."

I looked at her hand on mine, the warmth spreading from where our skin met, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I might be able to breathe. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could find my way out of the role I had been cast in.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "For everything."

Emylia smiled, her eyes kind. "No need to thank me yet. We're just getting started."

I didn’t know what the future held for me, for Kael, or for anyone else, but something in me had shifted. A small, fragile thing—maybe hope. Maybe just the idea that things could be different now. I was no longer just a name, a villain in someone else’s tale. I was here. And I had a chance to find out who I could become, if only I gave myself the chance.

As I sat there, I heard Lys stir, her little hand reaching for the spoon again. This time, I didn’t protest when she tried to feed me. I let her.

In this moment, as strange as it was, I felt something I had never truly known in my past life—comfort. Not the false kind, not the kind I’d worn as a shield. But the real kind, warm and genuine, shared with others.

And for once, I felt like I was part of something. Not alone. Not isolated.

Perhaps I wasn’t as lost as I thought