"The most important rule is never to address or initiate a talk with the royals.

You are at the bottom of the hierarchy, and you should act like that.

If a royal member orders something, you provide it.

Never look a royal in the eyes or else meet the consequences."

"You will learn the rest as you work, but these three rules are what you should live by, or else death for you and your clan."

"Oh, wow," I murmured.

"You there..."

What is she pointing at me?

I looked around to be sure I was imagining things.

"You! The one turning" I looked at her, a question burning through my eyes at her.

"Step forward, your name?"

"Gina," I answered.

"So, Gina, share with us what you were mumbling about."

I was shocked. She heard me?

"Oh yes, I did," she replied.

Can she read minds, too?

She replied, "I can't read your mind, Gina, but your thoughts are clearly written on your face."

"Let this be a lesson for you all: never speak unnecessarily. I will hear, if I can, the royal family can too."

She turned to me, "As for you, you were supposed to serve the royals directly, but I can see that you are not suitable."

"As punishment for your unruliness, you will be assigned to kitchens as a scullery maid."

A scullery maid, what does that mean? Is that bad?

An alarm banged loudly in my head, especially after the reaction of Lila when the lady's maid pronounced my punishment. Lila's eyes went wide, then switched back to their dull look. I almost didn't catch it.

"Lila, take Gina to the kitchens, I am sure they are in need of her," she announced with sternness.

Without a word, I was dragged along by an inexpressive Lila.

I followed her down a narrow staircase, then it opened to a much larger hallway that smelled divine; my stomach grumbled at the assault of delicious scents. I haven't eaten since I came into this world.

"You'd better learn to control yourself, you have been downgraded to the lowest of maids, and it will take a miracle for you to survive here or to ever be promoted. So, learn fast and keep your head down," Lila stated as she walked ahead of me.

I looked at her, shocked by how much she said.

That was the longest words of advice anyone had ever spoken to me personally since I got into this body, but the bluntness of her words and tone covered the care in them.

We got to a massive kitchen that was as large as a penthouse space; I saw people in chef's clothes manning the cookers and maids going to and fro, lifting heavy items.

My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

"Peter!" Lila yelled above the hubbub of kitchen noise.

"Hey, Lila!" A clean-shaven, shaved rotund man wearing a chef's hat and robe appeared in front of us.

"Peter, this is the new maid the lady assigned to work here; make good use of her."

Peter stared at me and said, "A Human," with an expression that looked like he tasted something bitter.

"Yes, a human," Lila replied.

He sighed, "What's your name?"

I replied, "Gina."

"OK, follow me."

He took me to the extreme end of the kitchen.

"See, that's Mary, she will tell you what to do."

After pointing out to me a lousy auburn-haired maid, he turned and left without any proper introduction.

Wearing my big girl panties, I stepped forward to the busy maid.

"Hey, Mary," the maid washing the dishes, turned to me. "Hey," she replied, turning to face me with a kind smile.

"I'm Gina. Peter said, I should meet with you, you will show me what to do."

"Oh, I see, hello Gina, well, we wash the plates here and take them over there for use."

That was how my new career as a kitchen maid began.

I had no complaints, at least it was less intense than in my past life, and hopefully I don't get killed washing a few dishes...

By evening, all I had eaten was a bun with thick porridge that Mary brought.

How could I be working in a kitchen and yet so hungry and exhausted? If I wasn't washing dishes, I was hauling crates of ingredients, wiping stainless counters, or dodging the chefs yelling for more seasonings.

For a place that looked like a medieval palace from the outside, the inside ran like a high-end 21st-century restaurant. There were industrial refrigerators, electric mixers, sous-vide machines, and more stainless steel than a Manhattan hospital.

"Don't stare, Gina," Mary warned as she caught me staring at Peter, the chef working the grill with practiced ease. "They don't like humans staring at them, especially when you are looking lost like that."

I snorted faintly. "Too late."

Mary bit her lip like she wanted to smile but thought better of it. "Just...try not to stand out.

I understand her kindness, but that was easier said than done when everyone here had a wolf side except me.

Every time a Lycan walked past, the air shifted, like static right before lightning. Their sense of presence is high; even the low-ranked wolves had an unusual weight in their footsteps, like the ground knew who its masters were.

This world is truly strange.

Mary had explained everything the night before when I collapsed beside her during the break: the so-called Lycans were superior in strength and influence, and the wolves were beneath them; still, humans or wolf-less humans are at the very bottom.

Even with this hierarchical system, the royal family stood above them all: the King, the Queen, and their only son, Prince Caleb. "So, you all bow to their orders and just grovel?" I asked. She looked at me strangely, as if I had spoken blasphemy.

"You'll learn quickly," Mary replied and continued to scrub the pots beside me.

By the third day, I was getting used to the work. I wake up as early as 5am and rest by 10pm.

I was too tired to think about anything or formulate an escape plan to leave this prison.

Maybe tomorrow an opportunity will present itself...

Opportunities truly come, just that only the prepared get to use them.

My desire to escape didn't match up with the preparedness that I needed, but I didn't know that then.

"The palace will host a soirée tonight, it's the Queen's orders. Every maid is expected to help."

"Even me?" I asked, eyebrows arching.

"Especially you," Mary grimaced. "The queen insists everyone works. You will be assisting with the main hall prep. Think of it as...another punishment."

Wonderful, I thought, at least I would have more opportunities to look around instead of just staying in the kitchen. Who knows if I could find a much better means to escape.

As I worked with the other maids, different scents drifted from roasted meats, soups drenched in sweet wines; the kitchen was alive like a beehive.

"You look exhausted," Mary added.

I shot her a look. "We get five hours of sleep, Mary."

"That's a luxury here," she whispered.

When Peter barked orders again, Mary moved away, leaving me alone with mountains of dishes and my thoughts.

My transmigration secret was still mine alone. I didn't trust anyone here, not even the sweet, thoughtful Mary.

My police training had taught me some things: trust slowly, observe first, and speak last.

So, I worked silently, listening to the kitchen gossip.

"The queen wants the best for tonight, because Prince Caleb is finally attending, though he had not attended a soirée in months."

Hmm... Prince Caleb, I wonder what the gist about him is? As if the maids cutting vegetables could hear my inner rambling, another gossip floated to me.

"Prince Caleb is cold and very dangerous, especially when his wolf is restless; we need to be careful when we serve tonight."

They kept whispering with fear and an obvious hunger; whoever this prince was, he clearly wasn't a joke.

Still, none of it mattered to me. I wasn't here to climb the ranks. I wasn't here to impress a Lycan royal.

I just needed to survive long enough to understand this world, regain strength, and maybe escape before someone found out I wasn't really Gina.

I rubbed my wrists where the shackles had been days earlier.

"Don't die again, Sheila," I murmured under my breath.

But the kitchen swallowed my voice whole.

****

By the time we were summoned to assist with the evening preparations, my arms felt like wet noodles and my back screamed in seven languages. But the palace hall?

It stole my breath.

The modern designs blended with old-world grandeur, with digital temperature regulators, their polished marble counters, and sleek security scanners flanking the entrances.

Lycans didn't just live in a hidden world; they lived in a highly advanced hidden world.

"Don't stare," Lila hissed again, pushing a tray into my hands. "And don't trip. If you embarrass me, I'll-"

Her sentence cut off as a wave of energy rolled over the hall, heavy and charged.

I could sense a strange but unique scent I could not fully place; it was like smoky pine mixed with the smell of earth after it had just rained. The scent provoked a warm feeling in me. It was strange yet exhilarating.

While distracted by my own emotions, I saw the maids straighten like they were slouching before; some guests at the soirée had stopped their conversations.

"What's happening?" I whispered to Mary.

"Prince Caleb is here," Mary breathed beside me.

Ah! That explains the charged atmosphere.

Everyone moved with rehearsed elegance as the Queen entered first. She was tall and pretty, draped in a midnight-blue silk gown.

Her eyes swept the hall, sharp and calculated gaze, until she seemed satisfied.

Then he walked in, Prince Caleb.

Suddenly, the room felt too small, and I could not help but think: what a tall guy!

He was taller than anyone else present, with broad shoulders, showing sculpted lines beneath his dress shirt.

His hair was dark, slightly tousled like he had just woken up, and his jaw was sharp enough to cut diamonds, but it was his eyes that froze me in place.

Steel-gray in colour with a terrifying but mesmerizing gaze, especially when he looked my way.

I think I stopped breathing for a second.

He moved like the world bent around him, like gravity didn't apply unless he allowed it. Every Lycan bowed their head as he passed.

He seemed to have stopped to talk to some noble.

I looked away quickly, remembering the rules, but something in me had shifted. It felt like I had seen him before, maybe a long time ago.

But I am certain, if I had, I would remember him, right?

"Gina!" Mary hissed, elbowing me. "Go take that tray to the Queen's table."

I nearly dropped it. "Me?!"

"You're standing close. Go!"

"What sort of setup is this?" I grumbled beneath my breath.

My heart in my throat, I approached the royal table. My steps were too loud in my ears, and I felt a sense of dread but also anticipation, even though I didn't know what I was anticipating. I reached the Queen's table. I bowed slightly, careful not to meet her gaze.

She accepted the glass from my tray without acknowledgment.

I turned to retreat, walked back, and that's when it happened.

Someone was walking towards me, and the air shifted. I felt an electrifying presence so intense my breath locked in my throat, and before I could stop myself-

I looked up, straight into Prince Caleb's eyes.

For a heartbeat, everything stopped.

His steps halted.

His gaze narrowed.

His nostrils flared just slightly, like he caught me doing something wrong.

My heart jumped painfully. No, no, stupid, look away, Sheila.

I turned my gaze downward, bowing quickly, heat flooding my face.

He didn't move, and I wanted to leave, but he was blocking my way.

The silence stretched, and it seemed people noticed because I could hear some murmurings.

Even the Queen turned towards us in a question, I guess.

I was wondering if I had offended him in a way or if he had heard my grumbling previously, but then the prince spoke in a deep, gravelly tone. "You."

I froze.

I swallowed and said, "Y-Your Highness?"

His boots clicked as he stepped closer. The tray shook in my hands, his scent enveloped me, intense, warm, unreasonably intoxicating. It pulled at something deep inside me that I didn't understand.

He stopped directly in front of me, towering above me.

"You're new."

It wasn't a question, more like an accusation or statement wrapped in curiosity.

"I-I work in the kitchens, Your Highness," I managed.

He stepped closer again.

My breath caught as I felt heat radiate off him in waves. His gaze scanned my face, lingering on my eyes, my mouth, then returning to my eyes with unsettling intent.

"Look at me," he said.

My chest tightened. The rule against making eye contact clashed with the command in his voice. I raised my gaze cautiously.

His eyes changed, darkened, I think.

Something registered in his gaze, interest? Recognition? Did he also think he knew me?

Before I could ponder more on it, the Queen's voice cut sharply through the tension.

"Caleb."

He didn't look away from me.

"Leave the servants be," she continued, her tone light, "This is hardly the time for an interrogation."

Interrogation? Was that what this was?

Caleb's jaw flexed. "She looked at me."

"She's human," the Queen replied dismissively. "Humans make mistakes."

He stared at the Queen briefly, and finally, he stepped back from my path and passed me to his seat.

Only then did I breathe properly again. I walked quickly to where the maids were on standby.

My eyes went up and met Lila's angry eyes; her whisper was venomous. "You're dead."

Probably.

Mary rushed to my side, with eyes wide. "Gina...what did you DO?"

"I didn't do anything," I hissed back.

But even as I denied it, my heartbeat refused to settle; that dangerous prince seemed to have his eyes on me, and I wonder if my already bad fate was about to turn worse.

Caleb POV

My mother strong-armed me to this soirée of hers; she spends the huge palace resources just to create a fantasy meeting of me meeting an aristocratic lady of choice.

I got tired of coming since it was always the same set of people with the Lycan males' usual groveling and the females' their simpering nonsense.

By the time my mother entered the hall, I caught a scent that was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. I kept wondering if the chefs had come up with something good today; at least that would help with the coming boredom.

Before I could get to my seat, I was stopped by Minister Lakewood, who manages our external trade with humans.

"My dear prince, I have been meaning to see you," he said while bowing expansively. "Really? Is anything the matter?" I asked.

"No, no, it's nothing. My daughter comes of age next week, and I was hoping I could invite you as a chief guest to represent the royal family. I hope you can do me the honor."

'How displeasing,' was my first thought. I wouldn't mind attending his event if it were reasonable, but it was obvious he wanted to use me to boost his status while furthering a matchmaking effort.

"Such a nuisance!" My wolf bristled in anger. Not bothering to give him the pleasure of an answer, I turned away angrily.

He spoiled my already sour mood, hoping the food the chef made could work magic on my dampened mood. I followed the scent; it was warm, filled with the smell of olives after rain and a hint of ambergris.

But my nose led me to a girl?

A human?

Or not?

Shouldn't humans smell thin and fragile, or is she just wolfless? We do have them around the kingdom.

My wolf stirs. I could feel Trey lift his head in interest; that alone made my spine stiffen in concentration.

How could a human smell so good?

I let my gaze track her the way I would a potential threat; she's holding a tray. Her hands were steady, though her pulse beat too fast at her throat. She had looked up at me, stunned, but now her eyes were lowered, and her posture was submissive.

She was walking towards me slowly but with measure, like someone who knows how to slink around quietly.

Trey exhales, making a low sound in my chest. "That's her, Caleb."

No.

I shut the thought down immediately.

But still my world had tilted the moment her dark eyes had met mine. For one breathless instant, something aligned with me; a pressure I was not aware of snapped tight behind my eyes, as if a door I didn't know existed open a fraction.

When I got close to her, I stopped walking, blocking her path of escape.

Around us, the conversation stops; the Lycans could feel the shift in the air.

I know I shouldn't speak to her, but I didn't care.

"You."

Her shoulders tensed, but she didn't run or beg.

Interesting, she doesn't scare easily like other humans. Her head still lowered, she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y-Your Highness?"

Her accent is... wrong; she didn't sound from around here. I wondered which pack she came from. This is the first time my wolf and I were curious about a girl.

I step closer; the scent of her is inviting; she truly smells heavenly.

"You're new," I say.

"I-I work in the kitchens, Your Highness." She answered.

My wolf presses forward, curious now, sniffing beneath the surface.

"Human skin, human blood, but still unusual. She is something more," Trey said.

Stating his input without my request.

My gaze drops to her wrists, and I see faint marks of old bindings that have recently healed. I felt raw anger go through me again; it was purely unwelcome. But I could not help but wonder -

Who touched her?

The thought hits deep in my mind.

Trey growls, low and displeased.

I take another step closer, invading her space deliberately. She sways but holds her ground. Foolish girl, I thought.

"Look at me."

She hesitates.

Good, show a bit of fear girl, but she obeyed, surprising me.

Her eyes lifted and met my gaze, and I felt it again, that sharp, breath-stealing click in my chest; it felt like puzzle pieces being put in place and then stopping just short.

Her gaze isn't worshipful or greedy as I have seen from other females; it's searching, as if she were also assessing me, to see if I fit her standards.

That is unacceptable, I thought. Before I could say anything else, my mother's voice cut through the moment.

"Caleb."

I don't look away from the girl immediately. I forced myself to breathe, to push Trey back into his cage.

Chanting to myself, she is nothing, just a human, she is beneath notice.

"She looked at me," I say flatly to my mother.

Mother's tone is dismissive, but I could see a quick shift in her sharp eyes that always misses nothing. "She's human. Humans make mistakes."

I finally step back.

The tension drops, but the echo remains, clinging to my skin as I walk away, but I don't turn around.

I don't need to; I have spiced the occasion enough with fresh gossip.

The rest of the soirée passes in fragments. The nobles talk, the courageous ones like Minister Lakewood approach, trying to form alliances. My mother smiles and maneuvers, her political instincts as sharp as ever. I nod when required and speak when expected of me.

I could not wait for it to end, and the food was passable. I had raised my expectations too high after the scent from the maid.

Still, my attention kept drifting. Trey was restless. "We need to see that girl again," he kept saying. "She's human," I told him silently. "Let it go."

"Then why does she smell like olives after rain? We love olives," he counters.

I don't answer.

Later, when the hall begins to empty, I retreat to the eastern balcony. The cool night air washes over me, grounding. The palace grounds stretch below the lit paths, patrolled by guards.

My mind could not rest because one human girl had disrupted my equilibrium more than any enemy rogue ever had.

I close my eyes, but her scent lingers in my mind.