Yvonne's POV
"Uhhh," I groaned, turning to one side, then rolling to the other. While my body was busy stretching out, my mind was catching up, wait… weren't we on a horse?
My brows furrowed as fragments of memories trickled in. I was definitely on a horse… Then everything slammed back into my head like a wrecking ball. The severed head, ugh, don't think about that, Yvonne.
"I'm going to puke." I muttered in English, clutching my stomach.
That was when I realized I was no longer wearing those heavy clothes. Thank the heavens. What I had on now was… well, their version of nightwear. Not the typical PJs I was used to, but honestly, this was much better. Loose. Airy. Certain places could finally breathe. You know what I mean.
Slowly, the nausea settled, like my stomach had remembered its job wasn't to kill me, for now. I turned my head to the side..
"Bloody hell!" I yelped, jerking away.
Klara was leaning way too close. The room was dim, only lit by fat candles that smelled surprisingly nice. Their flickering flames cast shadows along the walls, turning Klara into some demon straight out of a horror movie.
What made it worse was that she wasn't alone. There were other female servants lingering around, and right by the bed stood Teresa, the head lady-in-waiting. She did a little bow, and honestly? I still wasn't used to this whole royalty treatment. It was weird.
Back in New York, nobody gave a damn about me. Not the city, not my partner, hell, not even the delivery guy who always forgot the extra ketchup. And now, suddenly, I was being treated like the most precious thing on this medieval planet. Well… everyone except the Queen's partner, that jerk.
Anyway, you get my point.
"My lady, how do you feel?" Teresa asked, her voice gentle.
I blinked at her, pulled out of my rambling thoughts. Since I was stuck here for the time being, I might as well enjoy the free spa treatment, right? Nothing wrong with a little pampering, as long as no arrows were flying at my head.
But then, like a bad ex, the memory came crashing back.
You almost got killed, Yvonne.
My stomach twisted again. This whole royal life package? It definitely came with a deadly fine print.
"My lady…"
Teresa's voice snapped me out of it again. I forced a smile, jumping off the bed and stretching my arms above my head.
"I feel fine."
My belly betrayed me with a loud growl. I rubbed it sheepishly.
"But I'm starving."
Teresa's lips curved into a small smile as she barked some orders in Spanish to the servants. They scattered like little mice, and then she turned back to me.
"My lady, while we wait for your food, would you like to have a bath?"
Now tell me, who in their right mind would say no to a hot bath? Definitely not Yvonne, not even with the looming threat of death hanging over my head.
I nodded eagerly. They started undressing me, which, nope, absolutely not. I could at least manage that much on my own. After some polite wrestling, I stripped down and followed them to the bath chamber.
It wasn't as grand as the palace baths, but it was still ten times better than any bathtub back home. The steaming water smelled faintly of herbs. As I slipped into the warmth, I let out a sigh that I didn't even know I'd been holding.
Klara stood beside me, naked as the day she was born, gently scrubbing my neck. The girl had the face of an angel, but after what I saw in the carriage, I knew there was way more to her than the soft smiles and polite bows.
"So… where are we?" I asked in German, trying to distract myself from how good the scrubbing felt.
"We are in the Queen Mother's grand estate," she answered, voice soft.
So we'd finally arrived. They must have carried me inside after I passed out, again. Seriously, what was with all the fainting? I wasn't terminally ill anymore, right? That was my old body. But something still wasn't right…
My thoughts were interrupted when my gaze accidentally slid to one of the servant girls scrubbing my arm.
Her nipples, bright pink, stood out against her pale skin. My brain short-circuited, and before I could stop myself, a very inappropriate thought flashed through my head.
What would they taste like?
Jesus, Yvonne.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. Nope. No. Absolutely not. We're not doing this.
The bath felt like sweet torture. The warm water, the soft hands, all of it was testing my self-control in the worst way possible.
By the time they were done and dressed me in another nightdress (because apparently, there was a different dress for every hour of the day, insane), I was ready to collapse again.
I scarfed down the food they brought, still no meat, not even fish. These people had a weird thing against protein.
After an hour, the servants cleared out, leaving only Klara. She refused to leave, claiming she'd watch over me till morning. But the girl was already blinking like a sleepy kitten, so after some coaxing, I finally convinced her to go stand guard outside the door instead.
The second she was gone, I sighed and flopped against the bed.
"Finally."
I waited about ten minutes before slipping out of bed and padding toward the window. No way was I spending the whole night cooped up in one room.
Carefully, I pushed the window open wider. The night breeze hit my face, cooling my overheated skin. The moon hung low in the sky, casting silver light over the vast estate.
It was beautiful… and a little lonely.
As I took it all in, something caught my eye.
A boy, no older than thirteen, crept out from the shadows. He stood still for a moment, glancing around before darting off across the garden.
Suspicious little brat.
I knew I should just close the window and mind my business... But when have I ever done the smart thing?