I didn't expect the dish to leave the kitchen so soon. My heart is still pounding, not knowing if the prince will like my meal or get me executed like the others.

Honestly? I hoped he wouldn't... If the Crown Prince never tasted my cooking, he would never know I existed, and I could remain alive, unnoticed, and unexecuted...but then he's needed to taste it so I can be employed as a chef here in the palace because I really need the salary to sustain me here in this world and I really need to survive until I can know how to get back to my world.

The head steward leaned over the stewing Phoenix Flame Soup I had spent the last hour perfecting. His eyes widened..not in disgust, as I had expected, but in confusion... almost in awe.

"This..." he muttered, sniffing the steam again. "This smells nothing like the previous chef's attempts."

"Because the previous chef wasn't from the twenty-first century". I whispered to myself

Before I could say anymore, he clapped his hands and barked,

"Bring it to His Highness. Now."

My stomach dropped to my knees.

"Wait...what? Isn't he still...?"

"On his way back from training? Yes," the steward cut in sharply. "Which is exactly why we must hurry. If this dish impresses him, you might keep your head. If it doesn't..."

He didn't finish.

He didn't need to.

Two servants lifted the tray and rushed out of the kitchen. While I trail behind them,watching helplessly as the bowl...my bowl...disappeared down the corridor leading to the royal pavilion.

A wave of nausea swept through me.

I wasn't ready for the Crown Prince...Just wasn't ready for any prince. I just wanted to eat, survive, and not die in the past...I just wanted a way to go back home to my life.

I wiped my palms on my apron, but the trembling didn't stop.

Minutes later,it was as if the world shifted.

A cold ripple passed through the room, followed by the sound of armor, boots, and authority so heavy it crushed the space before he even stepped inside. Every chef and staff stiffened at once. Some dropped to their knees. Others bowed so deeply their foreheads nearly hit the floor.

"The Crown Prince has returned from the training grounds," someone whispered, sounding frightened.

My heart jumped into my throat.

So this was him...the man rumored to kill his own staff without blinking. The man whose chef I had replaced. The man I was desperately hoping would never notice my existence.

Silence fell over the pavilion like someone had extinguished all sound. The room temperature seemed to have dropped. A presence rolled through the air which was cold, heavy, and in a commanding way.

Then someone whispered behind me, "His Highness is approaching."

And another murmured, "If he hates the dish, run before he draws his sword."

Run?

My legs felt like wet noodles.

The double doors slammed open.

Crown Prince Arthur strode in..not walked, but strode in, carrying the kind of lethal grace that made every living soul snap to attention. He was tall, and far taller than I expected, with broad shoulders and a sharp jaw that looked carved from winter stone. His hair was dark, looking messy from his training, and his sweat glistened along his neck where the armor he was putting on didn't cover.

I heard people say that he is renowned for his ruthlessness, very authoritative and arrogant and he is rumored to have killed any one that defiled him including his previous chefs.

And he is also very Strategic, cold, and unreadable.

When the doors swung open for him, the room bowed under his presence.

Crown Prince Arthur Lucein Evereign

He was taller than anyone else in the room, dressed in black armor that clung to his powerful frame.

His Piercing eyes.. very icy, and unreadable.

Broad shoulders and a sword at his side that looked as though he used it often. Too often.

But it wasn't his appearance that froze the blood in my veins.

It was his aura...deathly calm, and lethal, like he had already judged and found everyone here unworthy.

Arthur didn't need to raise his voice,only His silence alone commanded fear.

"What is this smell?" he asked, his tone sounded flat, and dangerous.

Every chef trembled harder.. looking more frightened.

The steward immediately pushed the bowl of Phoenix Flame Soup forward.

"Y...Your Highness, the new chef prepared it."

New chef.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Arthur's head slowly turned...toward me.

Those eyes locked onto me, sharp and cold enough to slice straight through the disguise I wore. My breath caught in my mouth and my fingers curled into fists at my sides to hide them shaking.

He approached slowly, in measured steps.

Each one echoed like a countdown to my execution.

"So," he said, stopping directly in front of me. "You are the replacement."

I swallowed hard. "Y...yes, Your Highness."

The room went silent at the sound of my voice which was a little higher, and a little softer than a typical man's voice. For a second, I panicked.

But Arthur didn't comment. If he noticed, he didn't show it.

His eyes looking at me sends shivers down my body.

His eyes looked very Dark, Cold, and Sharp enough to cut.

He wasn't looking angry or pleased..he was just unreadable, like a man who had seen too much blood to be surprised by anything anymore.

He held the empty bowl in one hand.

And... that was my bowl.

Oh no no no

My pulse thundered in my ears...becoming very nervous like my breath just seized...wondering if he is going to like my meal or not...picturing my death if he doesn't like it "oh my goodness" I whispered.

The steward dropped to his knees. The rest of the kitchen staff followed. I tried to follow their lead, but Arthur's voice cut like a blade.

"You. Stand."

My head snapped up...

He was looking directly at me.

Me?

Why me?

I could barely breathe.

Arthur walked closer, slow and deliberate. The entire room held its breath as if any sound might trigger an execution.

Finally, he stopped right in front of me.

"Did you prepare this?"

His voice wasn't loud...but it was deep, controlling, and terrifying in its calmness.

I swallowed hard. "Y...yes, Your Highness." bringing my eyes down, daring not to look at his face.

He just stood in front of me studying my face,my posture, my trembling hands. In this disguise. I pray he wouldn't see right through me.

Then he lifted the bowl.

I braced myself for whatever might happen to me... either his voice shouting at me. Or his sword stabbing through me. Or declaring me death by hanging. But honestly...I prepared myself for whatever might happen to me, I was ready to bear the consequences...because I knew I couldn't escape from this.

But then, he said only one word:

"...Interesting."

I blinked. "...Your Highness?"

He stepped closer, invading my space without hesitation. I stiffened as he leaned in slightly...not at me, but at the lingering aroma of the dish still in the bowl,as he scooped a spoon from the bowl and tasted it.

Then I observed his expression...he seemed tense, in a critical way...he looked like he froze but only for a brief, fleeting second. Something unreadable passed through his eyes. Something that looked almost like... surprise?

But it vanished instantly.

He placed the spoon down in a deliberate calm way.

"Who taught you to cook like this?" he asked.

My heartbeat thundered in my skull. "Self-taught, Your Highness."

His eyes narrowed, studying me like a puzzle he wasn't sure he wanted to solve.

"Do not lie to me," Arthur said quietly, almost too quietly. "I do not give second chances."

His voice was low, controlled, and terrifyingly final.

Something inside me clenched...was it Fear? Of course Yes.

But I felt something else too.

Determination. Yes it is..

But before I could respond, he added:

"There is a flavor in this soup," he said slowly, as if unraveling a puzzle.

"Something I have never tasted in this empire." Then he started eating more of the soup I prepared...

And My breath caught.

He wasn't angry.

He was intrigued.

"A depth," he continued. "A warmth. A balance no chef in this palace has ever achieved."

His gaze snapped to mine...looking at me as if looking at something familiar.

"For a moment..." his jaw tightened, "I remembered something I shouldn't have remembered."

A chill ran down my spine.

Remembered... what?

Before I could ask, he dropped the bowl into a servant's hands and stepped back.

"Your cooking," he said quietly, "will continue."

He turned to walk away...but paused halfway.

Then, over his shoulder he said

"My personal chef."

At first I didn't understand what he meant but then I choked on air. "W...what?"

"You will be my personal chef," he said. "From now on... all my meals will be prepared only by you."

The room erupted into gasps. Some chefs glared at me with pure hatred. Others bowed even lower.

But all I could think of was:

Me, His personal Chef...just like that?

Only Me?

To prepare his meals for him?

He wanted me...specifically me?

But why only me?

Arthur's gaze locked onto mine once more, cold and unreadable.

"Do not disappoint me... Daniel."

But before I could understand what he meant ...

Arthur had already turned away, his cloak sweeping behind him as he strode out of the room...leaving a shock, terror, and a pounding heartbeat behind, including the chilling silence and dozens of shocked eyes staring at me.

Becoming the Crown Prince's personal chef should have felt like an honor to me.

Instead... it felt like a noose tightening slowly around my neck, while choking me.

I had thought I could be employed as an ordinary chef just assisting with the preparation of the royal meals for the royal household without being noticed and become invisible to others until I can find my way back to my own world and life..."Not like this." I muttered to myself.

On my first official day, after filling my stomach with enough food, a maiden led me through an endless maze of polished stone hallways until we reached the staff quarters. The palace was enormous... that is, too enormous. Every footstep echoed, every whisper lingered, and every passing guard felt like an executioner waiting to catch me slipping.

"This will be your room, Young Master Daniel," a maiden who is also a sevant in the palace,said politely while blushing.

Young Master.

I nearly snorted.

If only she knew I was a woman like her stuffed inside stolen male clothes, she would faint on the spot.

The servant slid the wooden door open, and I stepped into a surprisingly neat space...There was a small bed, a writing table, a basin, and shelves for clothes I didn't have.

But the strangest part of it was that...

They placed me in the upper servant corridor, reserved only for those who serve the royal family directly. Not near the kitchens. Not near the other cooks.

It was Too close to the royal family quarters...making me too expose which can be more dangerous for me.

I waited until the servant bowed and left with a smile on her reddish face, then I closed the door before dropping onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"This is insane," I whispered into my palms. "How long can I keep this up?"

Bathing here would always be like a nightmare.

Speaking without slipping into my modern slang...another nightmare.

Keeping my chest bound and my voice low like a real man would...another nightmare.

And then there was Prince Arthur.

Just thinking of him alone made my stomach twist into knots. Why did he look at me like he was peeling a back layers of a mystery?

Why... did he feel familiar in a terrifying way?

I shook the thought away and began exploring my new "home."

The palace routine was rigid enough to suffocate someone, with the way the Steward explained the palace routine to me...

Servants woke up before dawn.

Meals were served at exact times.

Every task was documented and reported.

And everyone watched everyone else.

By afternoon, the gossip had already spread:

"The new chef got promoted too fast."

"I heard the prince actually praised him."

"Impossible...His Highness hates everyone."

"He must be hiding something."

"He smells different... doesn't he?"

"He looks abnormal to me"

"He is not supposed to be promoted that fast,so annoying"

"What's even special about the food he prepared...was it that delicious?"

"I don't think so...Maybe he's the type the prince likes..."

I nearly tripped when I overheard that last statement.

Absolutely not.

I was not about to be the palace's next scandal...not happening.

I kept my head low, and my voice lower, while trying to mimic the posture and the mannerisms of the men around me...like my shoulders were broad, my steps looked firm, and my gaze was forward with my face looking more serious than ever.

Still... I could feel their stares burning into me through my back.

With their Jealousy,Curiosity, and their Suspicion on me.

Any of those could kill me.

Later that evening, I found a quiet corner behind the kitchen...my first moment of solitude since my arrival in this palace.

I lifted my hand, staring at my fingers. Annabelle's fingers. Looking so Small, slender, and delicate. Nothing like the ones I grew up with.

"Why did I end up here?" I murmured.

Time travel wasn't supposed to be real...and Body swapping wasn't either. Even though My life had been logical, and predictable...But until now,it wasn't.

I closed my eyes and tried remembering the moment before death. The truck. The screams. The flash of light. The sensation of falling.The collapsing into consciousness.

And then waking up in this broken, bruised body.

Was it fate?

Was it punishment?

Was it someone's plan?

A breeze drifted through the courtyard, brushing against my cheeks and reminding me that despite everything, I was alive. Like Somehow alive.

But for how long?

Tomorrow I would cook for the prince again...maybe with him up close.

Tomorrow I would risk every second of me getting caught.

Tomorrow the disguise might tear at any slightest mistake I might make

I straightened my clothes, squared my shoulders, and forced a steady breath.

"Irene or Annabelle... Daniel is the only one who can survive here."

If I wanted to live long enough to find answers... I had to protect Daniel with everything I had.

Even if that meant walking beside fire every single day.