The heavy velvet curtains in the royal bedchamber were drawn, letting in only thin blades of moonlight. The room smelled of aged oak, beeswax candles, and the faint floral scent of the incense Amanda had burned earlier to calm her nerves. Outside, the distant sound of night patrol echoed faintly across the palace walls.
Amanda stood near the tall arched window, fists clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palms. She couldn’t look at him.
“Randel…” Her voice came out small and cracked. “I need to tell you something. Before this goes any further.”
She swallowed hard.
“In my previous life… I wasn’t a woman. I was a man.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
“I died. And when I woke up, I was… this.” She gestured weakly at her body. “Every single day I look in the mirror and feel like a thief who stole someone else’s life.”
Her breathing grew ragged.
“I know how fucked up this sounds. You deserve a real woman, Randel. Someone who was born in this body. Not… me.”
She finally looked up at him.
Randel stood completely still near the table. The color had drained from his face. For a long moment he just stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. Then something darker flickered across his expression — confusion, anger, and revulsion all mixed together.
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.
Amanda flinched.
“I didn’t choose this. I didn’t ask for this body. But I’m trapped in it. And every time you touched me… every time you said you loved me… I felt like I was deceiving you.”
She took a shaky step toward the door.
“I’ll leave. I understand if you never want to see me again.”
She reached for the handle.
“Don’t.” Randel’s voice cracked like a whip. He moved fast, grabbing her wrist hard enough to make her gasp. “Don’t you dare run away after dropping something like this on me.”
He spun her around to face him. His grip was painfully tight, his breathing heavy. Up close, she could see how conflicted and raw his eyes were.
“So all this time… every smile, every kiss, every night you spent in my bed — it was all built on a lie?” His voice rose, thick with anger and hurt. “I was ready to make you my wife. I imagined you carrying my children. And now you tell me you used to be a man?”
Amanda’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t pull away.
Randel let out a bitter, shaky laugh and released her wrist like it burned him. He took two steps back, running both hands through his hair.
“Fuck… I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. Part of me wants to punch the wall. Part of me still sees you standing there and…” He trailed off, jaw clenched. “I need air. I need time. This is too much.”
He looked at her again — longer this time. There was still desire there, buried under layers of shock and betrayal, but it was no longer simple.
“I’m not letting you disappear in the middle of the night,” he said finally, voice quieter but still hard. “You’re staying in this room. But don’t expect me to hold you or tell you everything’s going to be fine. Because right now… I don’t know if it will be.”
He turned away from her, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles went white.
“Go to bed, Amanda. Or whatever the hell your real name was. We’ll talk tomorrow. When I can think straight.”
Amanda stood frozen in the middle of the chamber, heart hammering.
The man she loved was still there.
But for the first time, he was looking at her like she was a stranger.