The next day, surprisingly, was completely uneventful.

Over the previous week I’d had lots of stuff happen to me; but for the first time in a while, nothing unexpected happened during my day. According to Sylvie, Cecily, and Therese, it was a completely normal day as a maid: after waking up and applying some ointment on my bruises I got dressed, had breakfast with the other servants – while still having to endure their stares, though they’d decreased in number and intensity – and then spent the day working, cleaning rooms and hallways and making beds and scrubbing tables, stopping only for lunch.

One thing was new, though: as I was passing through the main hall of the palace, on my way from one duty to the other, I saw that a display had been set up, holding an old and worn armour and a sword, still sheathed in its scabbard; it was very prominent, front and centre, and guarded by two Royal Knights. And I realised that, with everything that had happened, I’d forgotten all about Founding Day.

Founding Day was a national holiday, commemorating the day Kendrik the First had forged his alliance with the people who lived near Old Castle Harburg and settled in the area, giving birth to the country that would later become the Kingdom of Harburg. The holiday had first been celebrated during the reign of Izaak the Third, who had been crowned exactly a hundred year after the establishment of the alliance: he’d proclaimed his coronation to be a day of celebration, which was repeated the next year, and the year after that, and then became official.

By tradition the day would be a day off for everyone, marked by partying, feasts, happiness, and family get-togethers, all capped off by a public speech made in the late afternoon by the reigning monarch – or their regent – from a balcony to the people assembled in the plaza in front of the royal palace; however, with the drought and the near-famine, I wasn’t sure what would happen, even though that that year Founding Day was supposed to be a great celebration: it was the tricentennial of the founding of our country.

Preparations for the holiday usually started two weeks before the actual day, when two extremely important royal heirlooms were put on display in the royal palace’s main hall: the Sword of Kendrik the First, and the armour he’d worn into battle; they’d been carefully preserved over the centuries, and they were usually locked in the royal vaults. Those were the items I was admiring at that moment.

The Sword, in particular, was especially important – it was even used during the coronation of each new king: they would draw it from its scabbard, point it at the sky, and be acclaimed by the people of the country as the new monarch. It was said that only the rightful ruler of Harburg could unsheathe the Sword of Kendrik; years before, when I’d been young, I’d even sneaked into the royal vaults to test the theory myself, and found it was true – no matter how much I pulled, the sword and its scabbard seemed bound to each other by an invisible force.

At the time I’d convinced myself it was just a trick: there was probably a hidden pin or a small lever or something, which would make the two pieces come apart easily. I hadn’t had time to find out if I was right, however, since the Royal Knights had caught me as I was examining the heirloom, turning it over in my hands, and had dragged me off to King Dominik, who gave me a stern talking to (though he was smirking the whole time while he lectured me). Now, however, I wasn’t so sure magic wasn’t involved: pausing in front of the display, I could see runes and hieroglyphs, similar to the ones that were found everywhere in the old wing of the royal palace (and to the ones Verdun used in his spells), running up and down the scabbard.

But that was just a curiosity for me, after all: I was no longer a noble, and I was no longer part of the royal family. There was no way I could ever hope to even touch the Sword of Kendrik ever again.

The second and third day of my week of respite from Verdun’s treatments came and went without issue, too; I simply did what I had to do, and no one bothered me. I even had time to exchange a few words with Andrej, though it wasn’t about anything in particular – just small talk, I was careful not to say anything that could arouse Izaak’s suspicions. And I also began to make some friends: besides Sylvie, Cecily, and Therese, a few more maids started to join us during mealtimes, and I even chatted a bit with some of the butlers and pages – including Tomàs.

The first challenge, however, came on the fourth day; on that day I was ordered to the marketplace once again, to buy more groceries for the royal kitchens. On my own this time, the other maids had other duties to attend to; I actually volunteered to go instead of letting Cecily or Sylvie do it, so I could face Adrian, and talk with him, and explain who I really was and what had happened to me. I’d promised I would do so the next time I saw him, after all, and I never went back on my promises.

I was a bit worried, however, as I approached his stall, lowered the hood of my cloak, and bid hello to him; he gave me a withering stare in return. “What do you want?” he asked brusquely.

“Fruit and vegetables,” I replied. “And also to talk.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, then replied: “You want to talk? After the stunt you pulled last time?”

I nodded, but he kept staring. “Have you any idea of what you did to Enrique? To Fergus? They trusted you, and you all but destroyed them. You were like, I dunno… A role model. And you let them down hard.”

I winced at the memory. “I know. I’m sorry, but I had to do it. I was under… Orders.”

Adrian raised his eyebrow. “Orders?”

I nodded again. “Orders. You see--” I began to answer, but he cut me off.

“Not here,” he said. “There might be unfriendly ears around; let’s go to the inn, just around the corner.”

“Alright,” I replied. I knew that inn very well, it was where I usually took my students at the swordsmanship school after training for a good, hearty meal. Adrian asked one of his assistants to mind the stall for him – he had a couple always around, his stall was quite large – and together we made our way inside the building he’d pointed me towards.

When I entered the inn, I immediately noticed something was off; all the windows were closed, the room being lit just by a few candles, and the store was bereft of the usual throng of customers: about a dozen people were inside, and among them I recognised some of the folks I knew from the time I’d spent wandering the market as Hector – Emma the clothier, Marcus the brewer, Ariel the butcher, and a few more. They were all staring at me, and I could make out the glint of a meat cleaver in Ariel’s hand, so I had no doubt everyone else was also armed; I realised I’d likely walked into a trap when I heard Adrian lock the door behind us.

I gulped. A dozen armed and angry people against one, unarmed, and inside a locked room with no hope of a quick escape? I didn’t like my odds, to be honest. I decided I’d better try to talk it out, instead of resorting to fighting right away. “What’s all this?” I asked.

“Like I said last time,” Adrian replied, “You have some explaining to do. And I thought they would like to hear what you have to say for yourself, too.”

“I see,” I said. “And then, after I’ve told you everything, you’ll let me leave in peace?”

There was a brief, uncomfortable pause, then Ariel said: “Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“On whether we like your explanation. And if we believe it.”

I nodded carefully. “Okay,” I said, walking over to one of the tables and sitting on it, facing the throng of people. “What do you want to know?”

There was another moment of awkward silence, as if they didn’t know how to begin. “First off: who are you?” Adrian asked.

“I’m Erica, a maid at the royal palace,” I answered, and then immediately held up my hand to stop them from protesting. “That is the name I have been ordered to call myself, by Prince Regent Izaak; until a few days ago, I was Herik von Harburg.”

“Commander of the Royal Knights,” Marcus said.

I nodded. “Yes. And also second cousin once removed of the Prince Regent, and second in line to inherit the throne, behind Izaak himself.” I didn’t know whether they needed or wanted that much information, but I decided to play it safe and be completely honest, telling them everything.

“And the name you called yourself when you were with us… Hector. That was a lie, wasn’t it?” Marcus asked.

“How I acted, everything I did, was completely genuine,” I replied. “I only lied about my name, to avoid being recognised as a noble, and I never mentioned what I did for a living; you all assumed I was just a merchant, and I didn’t correct you.”

“A lie by omission is still a lie,” said Ariel, speaking up again.

I shrugged. “I suppose so.”

A pause, as the crowd digested my words, then Ariel continued, “So why are you a maid now? Why has the prince given you that order?”

I sighed. “Well, it’s a long story,” I said, and I launched in an explanation of what had happened over the past week: the raid, how I’d been wrongly accused and sentenced to transformation, and everything that had transpired after that. Overall, it only took me about five minutes, but at the end everyone was staring at me, mouth agape.

It was only a few moments, though, before I could see Ariel’s pretty face go red, and her features contort with rage.

“That bastard!” she shouted; she raised her arm, and brought her cleaver slashing down on a table, where it embedded firmly. “That good-for-nothing slimy turd!” she continued, starting to pace around the room.

“Ariel, calm do--” Adrian began to say.

“Do not fucking tell me to calm down!” Ariel cut him off, stabbing a finger towards him. “I fucking told you Prince Izaak was a gods-damned sleazeball back when he replaced his father for the first time, and he’s just gotten worse since then!” She motioned at me. “Look what he did to her… Him, sorry. And Izaak knew him almost his whole life, they’re even cousins! Imagine what he would do to someone he doesn’t even care about!”

“I agree,” I said.

Everyone had been looking at Ariel, but they turned around to look at me. “You agree?” Ariel said; from her tone of voice, she clearly hadn’t expected it.

“I do,” I said, nodding. “Izaak is nothing but scheming, ruthless, and ambitious; he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Though I never even considered betraying him, I got caught up in his paranoia.”

They all kept staring at me for a few moments, then Emma asked: “Then… Why? Why do you still obey him?”

“No matter how much I dislike him – no matter how I hate him – he’s still my liege lord.” I sighed. “I am sworn to serve the Crown until I am released from my oath, or until my death. I will not renege on that.”

What happened next surprised me; Ariel marched over to me, wrapped her big, soft arms around me, and hugged me. Tightly.

“I’m so sorry this has happened to you,” she said. “You’re a good person, one of the best people I know. You don’t deserve it.”

I tensed up, startled, but then relaxed into her embrace; I’d sorely needed some supportive words. To be reassured that, in fact, I did not deserve what was being done to me.

After she released me, I asked: “So you believe me?”

There was a nodding of heads all around. “We do,” Adrian said. “We believed you from the start, actually. We’d heard… Rumours. Bits and pieces. Georg came by two days ago, and he and I chatted for a while; it was enough to piece things together. But we wanted to hear it from you directly.” He shrugged. “Sorry for the whole act, Hector. Herik.”

“Erica,” I corrected him.

He cocked his head to the side and gave me a weird stare, but then nodded again. “Erica.” He paused, and then continued, “Well, I think we’re done here. You needed some veggies, if I’m not mistaken?”

I answered in the positive, dropped down from the table I was sitting on, and started towards the door, with Adrian trailing behind me. I paused briefly on the threshold, turned around, and said, “Sorry about this. And thank you. Be well.”

“You too, Erica,” Marcus replied.

Adrian and I didn’t speak another word as we made our way to his stall; likewise, I wordlessly handed him the list of fruit and vegetables I needed to buy for the royal kitchens. It was only when he’d prepared the bundle for me to carry away and I’d paid him that I spoke again.

“What about Fergus? And Enrique, and the others?” I asked.

Adrian looked at me in the eye. “I’ll try to explain things to them, but they’re kids.” He sighed. “I hope they’ll understand, but I don’t know if they will.”

“I hope so, too. I’ll try to come visit again as soon as I can,” I replied.

“You do that,” Adrian said. “And don’t give up, my friend. In the end, what you look like doesn’t matter, it’s what’s inside that counts: keep a hold of that, and don’t let go.”

I stared at him for a couple seconds: I’d never known him to be so insightful. But then I nodded, said goodbye to him, and walked away.

As I was walking back to the royal palace, my bundle of vegetables slung over my shoulder, I was lost in thought, thinking about what had transpired that morning; I was paying so little attention to what I was doing that I ran right into an old man, who was rounding a corner at the same time as I was, but in the opposite direction. We both managed to keep our balance, but I had to drop my burden to the ground to do so; the cloth unfurled, and all the fruit and vegetables went rolling around the street.

“Oh, gods, I’m so sorry, miss,” the old man said, crouching to the ground. “Here, let me help you.”

I smiled at him, and crouched too. “Thank you, sir,” I replied, politely.

We spent a few minutes gathering everything and securing it back into the bundle, and then he helped me load it back again on my shoulders. “Thank you again,” I said. I was about to leave, when the man’s hand shot out: he gripped my shoulder, and his steel-gray eyes looked straight into mine with a piercing stare.

“The blessing of King Kendrik be with you, my child,” he said quietly, but not so quiet that I couldn’t make the words out. “We’ll be here when you need us.”

Then he turned around and ran away, at a much faster pace than I’d expected given his age, and quickly disappeared into the crowd; I was left there, staring at the direction he’d run off towards. After a few moments I dropped my burden to the ground once again, and started behind him, shouting for him to wait – and attracting some stares in the process – but it was too late by then: he was nowhere to be found.

I thought about the steel-eyed old man for the rest of the day, until I went to bed, and even after we’d snuffed the candles and turned in for the night.

The next day, just after breakfast, I was intercepted by Tomàs as I was heading towards the rooms I would have to tidy up that day; he called me by name to attract my attention, and motioned for me to come closer to him.

I hadn’t really spoken with him beyond a few words since we’d established our truce, but under his tough exterior he seemed to be a nice guy, so I wasn’t worried. Once I reached him, he whispered “Keep walking, we don’t want to attract attention,” and we started off down the corridor in a direction at random. I was puzzled, but I complied with his instruction.

“What’s this about?” I whispered back to him as we walked.

“I wanted to warn you, Prince Izaak is quite mad at you right now,” he answered. When I raised my eyebrows he continued, “Oh, don’t be so surprised, people talk. He ranted about you to Verdun; one of Verdun’s servants overheard them, and told another servant, who told one of the pages, who told me. News spreads quickly when you know the right people.”

I nodded. “Alright. So?”

“The prince is really angry that you’re taking to your punishment with grace and dignity. That you’re apparently not that upset about your change, and that you’re even making friends among the servants,” Tomàs said. “I don’t know the exact words, of course, but the gist of it is that apparently he wanted you to cry, and beg, and make a spectacle of yourself, and he’s deeply unsatisfied that you haven’t.”

“Huh,” I replied. So apparently Izaak had a sadistic streak too.

“So yeah, be on your guard,” Tomàs concluded.

I smiled at him. “Thank you, but I’m not worried.”

He blinked at me. “You’re not?”

“I mean, I’m already being punished for some imagined transgressions, and I think it took quite some time to manufacture the evidence against me,” I explained. “If Izaak suddenly changed my punishment, or added to it, or if he punished someone else because of me… Well, he would just be demonstrating how petty and arbitrary he really is. I doubt he could afford that, not if he wants to be seen as a good ruler and not as a capricious tyrant.”

Tomàs nodded. “I see,” he said.

“Thanks for the warning, in any case,” I said, and squeezed his shoulder. “I better get back to my duties now.”

“You do that, and be careful, Erica,” he replied as we parted.

After that, the day was uneventful, as was the next day: I did my job without any issue. The day after that, however, I was summoned by Izaak in the afternoon, and I knew what awaited me: as I figured, when I reached the throne room, Gallowan and Verdun were also present.

“Go on, examine her,” Izaak ordered Gallowan, curtly, once I’d curtsied in front of them; he seemed angry and impatient.

Gallowan once again gave me a full check-up, and pronounced me healed from the injuries I’d sustained from the beating Baron Eigeis had given me; I could see some guilt in his eyes, though – he probably would’ve wanted to spare me from Verdun’s attentions for a few days more, but he couldn’t find a justification to do so.

“Good, that’s good. I need her ready for the grand ball, and we were running out of time,” Izaak said. The grand ball? What did that mean? I could’ve asked, but I hadn’t been given leave to speak, and I didn’t want to anger Izaak.

“Verdun, see to it, and don’t disappoint me,” the prince continued. There was a hint of menace in his voice.

“By your command,” Verdun said, and he motioned at me to follow him. We were about to leave the throne room, when the Prince Regent spoke up again.

“Oh, and Erica; I order you to answer all of Verdun’s questions, and truthfully,” he said. I just curtsied in response, and the wizard and I were off, towards his laboratory. On the way I wondered what Izaak’s words had meant; I didn’t have to wonder for long, though, because as soon as the doors to the cave closed behind us, Verdun chatted me up almost immediately.

“Alright, first things first: how do you feel? Any residual pain?” he asked, dispensing with the pleasantries.

My eyes narrowed, but still, I answered. “I feel fine, nothing out of the ordinary.”

The mage nodded. “That’s to be expected, after all the magic shouldn’t have any long-lasting, lingering effects. What about your mood?”

“My mood?” I asked. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean… Your feelings. How are you doing mentally,” Verdun explained. “For example, whether you dislike being a woman, and being treated like a woman.” He eyed me closely. “You hate it, don’t you?”

He seemed to be making some assumptions, and I almost felt bad in having to disprove them, but still, I answered honestly, just as I’d been commanded to. “No, I don’t,” I replied.

The wizard seemed surprised. “You don’t?” he queried.

“I don’t,” I repeated. “I dislike being punished for something I’m not guilty of, but this body? It’s no big deal. I’m okay with it, actually, at least as much as I was with my old one.”

Verdun put his hand to his chin, and massaged his beard for a few moments, deep in thought. “Fascinating,” he finally said, and started pacing around the room, without looking at me. “Maybe there are some people who don’t care as much about their sex as I thought?” He wasn’t even talking to me, he was just wondering aloud. “Still, after the others, I would’ve expected…”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The others?” I asked.

His eyes snapped back to me, as if I’d shook him from a momentary daze. “The others, yes. The other test subjects I’ve tried this spell on,” he answered. “You didn’t think you were the first one, did you? I had to perfect my technique first. After all, I didn’t want to… Damage you, once Izaak turned you over to me.”

I stared at him. “What happened to them?”

“Dead, of course,” came the reply. “Some perished during their change, while others survived, albeit malformed. A few were changed fully without issue, and as I was saying, they kept pleading for me to reverse what I’d done, to restore their manhood.” He shook his head. “I almost felt bad having to dispose of them.”

At those words, I felt blood rise to my head; still, I managed to keep my cool for the moment. “Who were they?” I asked quietly.

Verdun waved his hand dismissively. “I have no idea. The Prince Regent had the palace guard grab them from the streets of the city at night, and bring them here under the cover of darkness. Some might have been vagrants and rejects, dregs of society, while some others were just in the right place at the right time. What do you care? After all, they weren’t important.”

I was momentarily at a loss for words, then my rage burst out. “They-- They weren’t important?” I shouted. “Every one of them had a life, a family, friends, a job… And you say that didn’t matter to you? Not even a little bit?”

I slammed my fist down on a table that was within hand’s reach, making some glassware rattle; the noise brought me back to my senses – I realised I was breathing heavily, and Verdun was staring at me wide-eyed, like a rabbit facing a wolf.

I took a deep breath to steady myself, then pointed an accusing finger at him. “I swear upon my honour that I will kill you, Verdun,” I promised. “Somehow, I will find a way to make you pay for what you’ve done.”

The wizard looked at me for a few moments more, then his tense body relaxed, and his lips drew back in a sneer. Then he reached over to a side table, uncorked a bottle, and poured a familiar-looking bright pink liquid in a goblet.

“Somehow, huh. I’d love to see you try,” he replied, almost under his breath, still smirking. Then he walked over to me and handed me the goblet. “Well then, shall we get started with today’s session?”