"Is today some kind of special day?" I wondered, looking at all the beautiful clothes spread out in front of me.

Even a stray dog would look like a prince wearing these. But not me. If I were to wear them, I’d still look just like the dirty slave I’ve always been. I glanced down at my dirt-stained, patched-up clothes that I’d worn for so long. These glamorous outfits were supposed to make me look like a million bucks, but who am I kidding?

Honestly, my rag-like clothes were a bit better than my own condition. I looked around the room, which actually belonged to 'The Lady of the House,' or whatever she liked to call herself. "I don't belong here," I murmured to myself, glancing at the large mirror in the corner of the room. I walked over to it, lifting my hair out of my eyes just to see myself. "Another unpleasant sight," I thought while trying to make sense of what I saw.

My dirt-covered brown hair fell over my shoulders. I could’ve sworn it was a different colour the last time I paid attention. I shrugged and moved on to my eyes, which hid behind enormous dark circles. My tiny frame was the weirdest part. "Did I get thinner since the last time I checked my reflection?" If any outsider saw me like this, they’d probably mistake me for a girl—which I was not. The reflection in the mirror seemed to mock me, showing a distorted image of someone I barely recognized.

Memory lane for me was pretty short. The last thing I remembered about myself was that I was a guy. Beyond that, I didn't remember much. My name or age? No clue to that. People just made up a name for me, leaving me to figure out the real one on my own. My family... do I even have one? I don't know. My memory begins in this place, even though they’d sent me here and there for work, I always ended up back here. The only thing I do know is that these people brought me up, and they’re the only ones who "care" for me, giving me work to repay their kindness—or so they claim.

At my previous job, a disaster occurred, though I was foolish enough to think I’d never have to come back here. I managed to spill a bowl of boiling chicken soup on the master of the house. That was my ticket out of there. I shuddered at the memory, the embarrassment and clumsiness etched vividly in my mind.

I was still lost in thought when a voice from behind startled me.

“You…why are you still standing here?” The voice was so loud it made me jump. I turned to see a woman covered in heavy makeup and dressed as if it were her wedding day.

“Didn’t I tell you to go fix yourself? The carriage will be here any moment,” she shouted. Realizing 'The Lady of the House' was here, I hurriedly sat on the floor and bowed my head.

“Um… I…”

“WHAT?” she screamed even louder, making me flinch.

“M-ma’am… I… I don’t know what to do… these clothes… they’re beautiful… but… I really don’t think someone like me deserves to even look at them…”

“I KNOW THAT…” she yelled again. I risked a quick peek at her; she looked like a red tomato about to explode. Not risking another look, I quickly bowed my head. A moment of silence passed as she sighed, then ignored me as she moved to the mirror, applying yet another coat of makeup.

“Momo… I know you’re a good boy, always helping everyone out. But your return last time brought disgrace to our family, you know that right?” she asked, peering at me through the mirror. I gave her a slow nod. Family… are we actually something like that? I wondered to myself. The families I saw in the places I worked were… different. While I was lost in thought, she continued talking to herself.

“The buyers this time requested someone beautiful and rich to match their refined tastes. You’re neither, obviously, but they were kind enough to pay us well. So, I thought, why waste money finding someone suitable when we could just doll up someone like you?” She paused, smirking at her reflection.

“It’s just an investment. We just need to get someone ugly, like you, dress you up, and send you there. When you settle in, you know what you have to do, right?”

She turned to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. She looked down and gestured for me to stand up. I slowly rose, keeping my head lowered, but she grabbed my face and forced me to look up. “You’d better not mess this up, Momo.” She let go of my face, wrinkling her nose in disgust before wiping her hand with a towel. Then, without another word, she walked toward the door.

“I’ll send someone up to help you. Meanwhile, go inside the bathroom and take a shower—not that it’ll make you look much better, but it’ll do.” She left, and I was alone again.

“Momo?” It was different from what she’d called me last time. I rubbed my face, feeling the redness where she’d gripped it. I rushed into the bathroom, trying to remember the last time I had a proper bath. Who knew.

I removed my rags and left them in a corner. The bathtub was already full, so without hesitation, I stepped in. The water was freezing, but it had been a while, and the feeling of cold water surrounding me actually felt calming, drowning out the voices screaming inside my head.

The silence of the grand bathroom enveloped me, broken only by the occasional echoes of her commands from downstairs. I never cared about her schemes, anyway. After everything, I’m still here—alone with these conflicting emotions of resentment and confusion. I let out a loud sigh that echoed in the grand bathroom.

“Another place, rich people, fancy clothes, good money…” I didn’t understand a word of what she’d said, but I knew that whatever kind of day this was, it would be a long one. Slowly, I submerged myself deeper into the cold water.

A knock on the bathroom door jolted me back to reality. I realized I was still sitting in the freezing bathwater. Jumping out quickly, I almost slipped, nearly cracking my neck on the bathtub’s edge. My body felt like a block of ice. Taking careful steps, I wrapped a towel around myself and shuffled to the door, wondering if I was even allowed to wear it.

I swung the door open and found myself face-to-face with a kid. He was shorter than me, with dark hair and a pair of reddish-pink eyes. A purple bruise marred his cheek—a signature mark of ‘The Lady of the House,’ I guessed.

Curiosity got the better of me as I asked, "Yes?" He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where.

“You… were taking too long, so I came to check,” he mumbled, eyes darting away. Maybe I still looked dirty, even after that bath.

“I was ordered to assist you. I’ve already packed your suitcase and prepared the suit you’re supposed to wear.” His voice was soft, but before I could ask any questions, he exclaimed, “Oh, your hair!” nearly making me jump out of my skin.

“Huh? What’s wrong with my hair?”I asked, touching the soapy mess still clinging to my head.

“The shampoo is still in,” he said. Embarrassed, I hurried back into the bath, but he followed and started helping me with my hair like a professional. He even gave me a haircut, washed my hair properly, and got me dressed—all without me saying much.

“Done,” he finally declared. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the stranger staring back at me. My once dull brown hair now sparkled, framing my face with a fresh cut, and my eyes seemed to glint with a hint of blue.

I turned to the kid, speechless. He nodded knowingly as if expecting my reaction. “You’re going away from here. You should be happy,” he said, his eyes reflecting a fleeting kindness. I tried to thank him, though I still didn’t fully understand what he’d done to turn me into this. The person in the mirror wasn’t me; it was just another illusion for the Lady’s schemes. Not that I could tell him it was my fourth time leaving this place.

Before we could exchange more than a few words, the Lady barged in. “Hurry! The carriage is here…” She stopped, eyes widening at the sight of me. “Hey, you! What kind of makeup did you use? I almost didn’t recognize him,” she snapped, interrogating the kid. He calmly insisted it was just “necessary grooming.” We both bowed to her, and he went outside to load my suitcase, leaving me alone with her.

She glared at me before gesturing for me to sit. We mostly had this meeting when I was about to go to work, and, as expected, she declared a new name for me. I didn’t have a real name anyway, so why not change it every time I left for work? “From today, your name is Graham. Got it?” she commanded. I nodded in agreement, but internally I couldn’t help thinking, Graham… really? She wasn't getting any good at picking names.

I listened to her briefing about the place I was being sent to, my heart heavy with the hope that this time, I wouldn’t come back.

The carriage ride began—a rare moment of freedom in my otherwise confined existence. But the journey took an unexpected turn when the carriage came to a sudden stop. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“The soldiers are inspecting every carriage at the kingdom’s border,” the driver replied. “Usually, they only check the ones coming in, but who knows.”

Fifteen suspenseful minutes passed. “Why is the prince himself here?” the driver muttered, his voice trembling. Really? Prince, a real prince! Curiosity peaked and I couldn’t resist peeking out the window. Soldiers surrounded us and I only had to follow their gaze, and there he was—the prince. Dressed in black, with a flowing cape and a massive sword at his side, he exuded authority. He had his back to me, but as he started to turn, I pulled back. Panic set in – what if he saw me?

Just as I began to calm my pounding heart, there came a knock on the carriage door. Fear gripped me as I opened it and a tall soldier stood there. This wasn't part of the plan. I hadn’t done anything wrong, yet I felt like I was about to face punishment for a crime I didn’t commit.

As the door swung open further, three soldiers loomed before me. The air thickened with an odd tension, The lead one seemed as stunned as I was, his pupils dilating. “What the…” he muttered, bewildered. One soldier left hurriedly, leaving me with the others, who then ordered, “Please step out of the carriage.”

My heart raced. Was I going to jail? But maybe that would be better than where I’d just come from. Slowly, I climbed out, only to be met by a powerful force colliding with me. Gasping, I stumbled forward, bracing for the worst, when a deep, commanding voice broke through the chaos.

“Riley…?”

The familiar name made me spin around. I found myself staring into the most stunning pair of red eyes, filled with a strange, disarming kindness. “How…” he began, confusion and recognition blending on his face.

“Sir…” A soldier’s interruption snapped him back to reality, but he didn’t let go of my hand. I, too, realized who he was—the prince.

Stumbling over my words, I managed to croak out, "My name... is Graham," though the name he’d spoken felt more right. His eyes clouded with confusion as he examined me, head to toe.

“Get the driver,” he commanded. The driver, looking nervous, was brought forward and interrogated and throughout the questioning, the prince's gaze remained fixed on me, intensifying my unease.

“I picked him up on the road, sir,” the driver said, clearly reciting a rehearsed story. “Just an act of kindness, you know.”

The prince arched an eyebrow, scepticism etched on his face. He was unknowledgeable about the fact that the driver and I shared a past – both slaves from the same place. Also, it was clear; that the Lady had orchestrated this narrative, ensuring that even the driver played his part seamlessly. Sighing, the prince nodded, eyes still on me, and then back at the soldier.

"Put him on a horse. Take the driver too.” The command hung in the air as I gulped nervously. Riding under the watchful eyes of a prince added a whole new level of uncertainty to my already turbulent fate.

“Put him on a horse,” the prince’s words echoed in my head. Uncertainty hit me hard. Could I defy the prince's orders? Was that even an option?

As my mind spiralled into a state of panic, a soldier approached. “Sir Riley, please come this way,” he said, using that name again. The confusion in my head intensified. Was I the only one left in the dark about what was happening? Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me, making me feel like a body under dissection, scrutinized from all angles. Terrified, I began to step backwards and collided with someone—the prince again.

He took a good look at my frightened face and gestured for the soldiers to leave. His serious red eyes seemed to bore into me as if he could see straight through to my soul. My whole body trembled in fear, and I dropped my gaze to the ground.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was surprisingly calming, making me blink away the forming tears. Without waiting for my response, he dipped his head to my level, and our eyes met again. His expression shifted from stern to kind as he gently wiped away a stray tear. Confusion enveloped me.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, his voice soothing. I had planned to keep my distance, but the warmth of his hand on my cheek melted my resolve. “I... I can’t go to the castle... I have to work... sniffle... my master will be mad at me.”

His other hand moved to my cheek, and his kind eyes searched mine. “Do you like your work?” he asked, his question chilling me to the bone. Work? Enduring beatings and inhumane treatment? Did I really have to go through all that for the lady’s profits? The prince's serious gaze intensified, and the weight of his question hung heavy in the air.

“Hmmm?” He snapped me out of my thoughts, and I shook my head. To my surprise, the corner of his lips curled up.

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Then come with me,” he said, his words resonating loud and clear, quieting the chaos in my mind. I simply nodded, unable to articulate a response. He released my hand, leaving behind a tingling warmth, and smiled one last time before returning to his serious, expressionless demeanour. He gestured toward a soldier to continue.

As I settled in, finally, I got a good look at the prince. Even though I didn't know his name, his body language spoke volumes. He carried an air of authority that was evident in every move. His chiselled facial features proved his royalty—sculpted with determination, reflecting strength and poise. His jet-black hair and eyes, akin to rubies with a piercing intensity, held stories untold.

Standing tall and graceful, every movement he made demanded attention, exuding natural leadership. I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on his well-defined physique. The fabric of his suit clung to him, revealing the sculpted lines of his abs. With an athletic build and a noble posture, he was a blend of power and charm.

My thoughts were interrupted by a soldier’s call as a beautiful white horse was brought before me. The sight was so breathtaking that my mouth hung open. “You’ll be riding this one,” the soldier said, patting the majestic creature.

“But... I don’t know how to ride a horse,” I mumbled, earning a surprised look.

“Huh? But you’ve been riding since you were eight.”

What? The revelation left me dumbfounded. Was I the only one oblivious to my own past? The soldiers and the prince seemed to know more about me than I did—or maybe they were confusing me with someone else. Horses, in my life, had only ever been attached to carriages or confined to stables I endlessly cleaned.

“How about I ride with you?” A voice came from above, and I turned to see a figure dangling upside-down from a tree, making me jump. Calming myself, I saw a black-haired guy hanging from a branch. He gracefully landed in front of me. We were about the same height. Despite his peasant clothing, I assumed he was some kind of trickster—until a soldier approached.

“Prince Adrian, welcome back,” the soldier said.

Prince? Another one? He resembled the first prince, sharing the same sleek black hair and red eyes. However, he wore humble clothes. The first prince approached him.

“Adrian…” he trailed off.

“Your Highness,” Prince Adrian bowed respectfully.

“How was it? Did you... get anything?” the first prince asked, his tone low and concerned. Prince Adrian shook his head. Tension filled the air, though my curious mind was more interested in their conversation.

“So, what’s going on here? I see some interesting people,” Prince Adrian said, glancing at me.

I wondered if he, too, confused me with Riley. The first prince and the soldier seemed unsure, so I decided to speak up.

“I’m Graham,” I said, earning the same reaction I’d been getting from everyone.

“Oh, did you change your name or something? I liked the other one better,” Prince Adrian joked awkwardly. His attempt at humour made me laugh out loud, drawing all eyes to me. What else could I do? Finally, someone had voiced the thought I’d been harbouring.

Amid the awkward pause, the prince explained the situation to Prince Adrian, mentioning that they needed to confirm my identity as Riley.

“So, what are we waiting for? Let’s head back,” Prince Adrian declared.

“Yes, leave most of the soldiers here to continue the investigation. The rest of us will head to the castle,” the first prince commanded.

“Understood,” the head soldier replied and left, leaving just the three of us.

“So… what were you two talking about before I arrived?” the first prince asked.

“Heh,” a mischievous smile crossed Prince Adrian’s face. “Nothing important,” he replied with a shrug.

“Hmph,” the first prince muttered, saying nothing more and went back.

Prince Adrian laughed. “This is the first time in a while I’ve seen him get pissed.”

Wait, the prince was angry? But why?

A little while later, Prince Adrian persuaded his brother to let me ride with him. He was also surprised that I couldn’t ride a horse. Things worked out, and we were soon on our way to the castle. I couldn’t help but admire the prince’s skill at riding. His black horse suited him perfectly.

As much as I was absorbed in watching the prince, my curiosity about his brother grew. I finally glanced back.

“Um… Prince Adrian?”

“You know, we’re both the same age, so you can just call me Adrian,” he said. His words caught me off guard; How old was I anyway? I’d never really given it much thought. “I can’t do that. You’re still a prince, even if we’re the same age,” I replied. Not to mention, I was a slave, and he was royalty.

He chuckled. “Okay, call me whatever you want.”

“I wanted to ask… about your clothes,” I said.

“My clothes? Oh, you mean why I’m dressed as a peasant?” I nodded.

“Well,” he said, his tone growing serious. “I had to investigate a nearby village, and these clothes helped me blend in. If I’d worn my usual attire, I’d have been exposed the moment I arrived.” He laughed, and I smiled at the familiarity he evoked.

While we chatted, the first prince drew his horse closer.

“Is something wrong, Your Highnesses?” Prince Adrian asked.

“It’s nothing…” the prince replied, making Adrian chuckle again. Was he mad again? I wondered, trying to decipher the dynamic between the two brothers.