One hour passes, then two. I've finished off the food as well as the tea I was given, despite it turning cold within the first hour. There's nothing in this room to keep me entertained, not even a single book. So laying on the spacious bed has been my only vice. But as I stare up at the ceiling and take in lace patterns, I come to a realization that I shouldn't be holed up in this room all day.

The old Chrysanthy barely went out from what I can see within my memories of her. Shortly after coming to the palace, it was like all happiness escaped her. Initially, she was nothing but a political tool to her family; namely her father. He was quick to sell her off to strengthen his ties within the empire and to the imperial family. It was lucky for him that she was born in the same generation as the current emperor.

In the past, Chrysanthy was excited to become the crown princess. She was a child who knew nothing about politics, nor the world. To a little girl, becoming an actual princess was a dream come true. And for Chrysanthy, this was finally a chance for her family to accept her. Only they still treated her the same. Furthermore, any friends she had became weary of her.

Loneliness became her only friend as she became isolated because of the sudden status change. It had been like that since she was thirteen. Then two years later, she was forced to leave the academy - the only place she was able to breathe and have some sort of semblance of socialization - to start her empress studies.

Scoffing, I roll to the side to pull myself up. Again, why should I have to wallow in pain and misery inside this large room. The palace is my home and I'm the empress here. If I've been forced into this body, I'll use my power and position and create a better life; not just for myself, but for Chrysanthy as well.

I stand to my feet and walk over to the wardrobe in one corner of the room. Pulling it open, I take in the very few clothing that's in here. All are dresses, fitting whatever timezone I'm living in. What's surprising is how empty the wardrobe is. For me, everything is also much too brightly colored.

I pick the darkest thing in the closet which happens to be a lavender-colored dress. Holding it out in front of me, I can see by the width of the garment that it's luckily a maternity dress. I get to work pulling off the camisole nightgown I'm wearing and pulling on my outfit for the day.

While the top of the dress fits around my bust, the high waistline is free flowing. The sleeves itch a little because of the mesh used to make them puffy. As the dress reaches all the way to my ankles, the only way to properly describe this dress is something like 'regencycore', or a modern take on the outfits seen in the Regency Era.

Finding only heels at the bottom of the wardrobe, I roll my eyes. Chrysanthy is pregnant, do they mean to tell me that they've been forcing her to only wear heels. I mean, from what I can tell, her feet aren't swollen, but still. That's an accident waiting to happen.

Walking to the mirror, I comb my hair with my fingers, making sure I look decent enough to step out. There's not much to worry about, especially with features like these.

Pettiness bubbles up within me as I slam the doors to the closet closed. Without another thought, I march to the door of my room as fast as I can. Yanking the wooden rectangle open, I make my way out. As soon as I cross the line, anxiety replaces the frustration I had previously felt. These aren't my feelings though. This is a reflex of the body that I'm in.

I push forward, refusing to let this uneasiness hold me back. As I get further away from the room, I start to see signs of life. One maid dusts the frame of the wall, while another carrie a basket of laundry. Both pay me no mind like they have no idea what the current empress looks like.

I find stairs and take them down one slow step at a time. My protruding belly doesn't even allow me to see my feet. It's quite nerve wracking to not even be able to see each step of the walkways. But with a firm grip on the railings, I come to the end.

Going off of my gifted memories, I make my way to the kitchen. Much to my surprise, the staff inside stands doing nothing. The skinny man in a chef's coat seems to be the only person working while everyone else lounges around talking. Now, it's not like I don't believe in breaks, but one singular person working while everyone else goofs off is shitty to me.

Despite already knowing, I ask, "Who's in charge here?"

The kitchen becomes quiet as they all look in my direction, a mix of annoyance and frustration on their faces. The head chef pauses his dicing of carrots to also glance over. His dark brown eyes widen as he takes me in, then he becomes the only person to bow to me.

"Your Majesty," he gasps.

Still, the others are slow to react. Instead of following in his lead, they all look at each other. Some shrug as if to say 'no idea' while others just stand still. Is it really possible that this many people don't know what their empress looks like?

The chef looks around him for a second. "What are you all doing? This is your empress!" he shouts. Finally, the subordinates snap out of their daze. Slowly, they begin to bow. "I apologize for this disgrace you have been shown, Your Majesty."

"Raise your head," I command. But as all of them raise their heads, I clear my throat. "Only him."

When they notice who I'm pointing at, everyone but the chef puts their heads down. Smiling, I relish in the fact that all these people listened to what I have commanded. This is a very dangerous position, indeed. If I'm not careful, I might just lose myself.

"The lunch I had today was very delicious, thank you," I say, and I swear I see the chef's eyes tear up. "I look forward to more of your meals in the future, and when the royal heir is born."

"I'm honored, Your Majesty," the chef says, pressing a hand to his chest. He can barely contain the smile, but it peeks through to reveal crooked front teeth.

"That's why everyone who isn't the main chef is fired."

Gasps of outrage now fill the kitchen as they all shoot up from their bowed positions. The faces of the previously employed show contempt, sadness, and disbelief. Again, they look at each other in total silence. In the group of five, three appear middle aged while two are much younger. I wonder how the five of them were able to hold conversations for so long despite the age differences.

"Y-your Majesty... if I may?" A woman steps forward, one of the older ones, and twiddles her thumbs. At my nod, she hesitates before opening her mouth. "Many of us have families... and we've worked for the royal family for years. The sudden departure will leave us in a bind. Please consider rethinking your decision."

Crossing my arms, I raise an eyebrow. As Chrysanthy has only been in the palace for a year or two, she was unaware of who has been here for years and who is new. Well, save for anyone who has recently come to work in the empress' palace.

It seems that in this world, similar to my own, people work in one place for the duration of their lives. One key difference here is that before retirement, a job is often passed down to a son or daughter rather than a stranger. Before Chrysanthy came to this palace, she had seen her nanny and head maid to the Raufort estate pass on information to her daughter before the woman eventually retired. Said daughter will now be working for the Raufort's until old age.

Gazing at them further, I notice the younger girl and guy trembling slightly. Them getting fired will mean them having a hard time finding a new job. Especially since this is the royal palace and it doesn't really get any better than this.

"Yet the lot of you didn't even know the face of your empress?" I question, tilting my head. "I see it's not just the maids here who have no respect."

"Your Majesty-"

I hold up a hand, stopping whatever the lady was about to say. She purses her lips and I can see that she's holding back a swift retort. These are the blocks I must build up to become the better version of Chrysanthy. If I falter now, I'll just fall down the same hole the original Chrysanthy did.

"How long has the head chef worked here?" I ask.

"He just started last week," the older man now replies.

"Oh, wow," I mutter. "Despite those who have worked here for years, the man who has only been here a week knows my face better than all of you. Very interesting." Without another word, I turn away from them and start to make my way out of the kitchen. "If I happen to see you bunch slacking again, there won't be any more chances."

Though my back is to them, I can imagine the relief on their faces. After this interaction, I see it's time to start sowing the seeds for a successful life. There's a lot of contempt I need to undo to see a good ending to this life.

The next step is meeting my husband.

*Hope you enjoyed it.*