Her steps were confident… or at least trying to be.
Katrina, now in the body of Leona, walked steadily down the old stone path leading to the ancient town hall, nestled beside the clock tower that overlooked the open sea like a guardian of the horizon for centuries.
The sea breeze was gentle, carrying the scent of salt and damp grass…
Above them, the sky looked like a painting from another world.
Clouds piled upon clouds—white floating above pink, blue melting into orange, with beams of golden sunlight piercing through, as if searching for someone to bless that day.
"It's exam day… the day of destiny," Katrina thought, lifting her head toward the sun.
She pondered how the light looked like an invisible thread connecting this world to the next… a thread of a new fate.
As for her appearance…
She looked like she had stepped out of an artwork.
She wore a long pink coat made of a light, cloudy-patterned fabric that shimmered in the sun, with a high Chinese-style collar and gold buttons that sparkled with every step.
Beneath it, a red pleated skirt with intricate patterns flowed softly with her movement, as if whispering secrets.
Her hair was styled in her usual way: two low buns (🍩🍩) at the back of her head, with carefully pulled-back front strands framing her face. She wore fake prescription glasses and had deliberately dotted freckles across her face—four prominent ones: one on her forehead, one below her right eye, one below her nose, and the last on her chin. Her eyes squinted with a mischievous look, like a cunning fox hiding a plan behind an innocent smile.
But she wasn't alone.
Three other girls walked beside her—her cousins, each with a completely different aura.
Iseline, the cheerful one, was on her right.
Her light blonde hair danced with the wind, her eyes sparkling with childish curiosity and laughter.
She wore a soft pink coat and a snow-white skirt. She was chatting non-stop about the exam like it was a party rather than a life-altering event.
> "I bet I'll be in the first group accepted! Imagine if I worked right next to the prince!"
She nudged Katrina with her elbow, giggling as if it weren't just a dream, but an actual possibility.
Selina, her older sister, was mostly quiet, her eyes shifting nervously from passersby to the sea.
She wore a pale yellow coat and a red skirt the color of a soft blush.
Her voice was gentle, as if even the wind might get offended.
> "I… I don't know. Will any of us even pass? It's just so hard..."
She said it lightly, as if afraid of the very words.
Then there was Vilene, their cousin. The cold girl with long, neatly brushed black hair.
Her face showed no emotion.
She wore a dark blue coat and a black skirt like the shadows of night.
She walked like someone who didn't belong to this world—or didn't want it to touch her.
> "If you're not prepared to fail, then don't bother entering."
She said it in a monotone, eyes forward, not sparing a glance.
Katrina, though not originally from this world, suddenly felt like she was standing in a decisive moment.
Surrounded by a laughing girl, a frightened one, and one who simply didn't care…
And she? She walked carrying the weight of two worlds on her shoulders.
"I won't lose this chance," she whispered to herself, clutching the edge of her pink coat.
Her breath was shaky, heart pounding fast, but she kept walking…
Eyes fixed on the sea, ears following the tolling of the old clock tower, closer with each step.
As they drew near, the old town hall came into view. A tall stone building with arched windows and small fluttering flags.
The test would begin in minutes.
And a door that had never opened for her before… was about to.
---
Katrina's POV:
I did it…
I still can't believe I actually convinced the grandparents. I mean, seriously, I walked into a super traditional family—crazy strict—and they agreed!!
But I won't lie, what happened this morning wasn't easy.
I was standing in front of their door, staring at the heavy wooden frame carved in detail. Ren was beside me, nervously gripping the edge of my dress.
I took a deep breath and knocked gently.
Grandma's voice came from inside:
> "Come in."
I pushed the door open quietly and walked in, eyes scanning the room.
It was spacious, warm, filled with antique wooden furniture, thick curtains, and a large rug that covered the floor. But I wasn't focused on that…
My eyes locked onto Grandpa and Grandma.
They were sitting on the floor at a low table, writing or signing papers. Clearly busy.
When they saw me, they both looked up at the same time.
Grandma said gently,
> "Sit down, Leona."
She gestured to the seat across from them.
Ren tiptoed in and sat near the door, while I knelt in front of them, sitting straight, eyes steady.
Grandpa set his pen aside and said calmly,
> "Speak. What is it?"
I swallowed and said,
> "About the maid test happening this afternoon… as usual.
I was thinking, what if I joined? I'm bored and need something to keep me busy."
They exchanged a long, silent glance—like they were speaking some secret language.
Grandma raised a brow:
> "Why work? You don't need to."
Her voice was gentle, but there was a hidden question in it.
I smiled lightly:
> "I know, but… wouldn't it be good if I helped bring in some income?"
Immediately, Grandma's eyes sparkled.
> "Income?!"
she said with sudden excitement, leaning forward, while Grandpa sighed quietly, clearly sensing where this was headed.
I straightened up and added:
> "Also, if I work in the palace, I can use my skills and maybe even stand out… Who knows, I could get promoted.
Besides, it'd be useful to know what's really going on inside the palace. Some news doesn't make it to ordinary people."
Grandpa raised an eyebrow and glanced at Grandma, who turned to look at him too.
After a moment of silent exchange, they both looked at me and said together:
> "Approved."
But there was a clear difference: Grandpa said it calmly like it was a simple decision. Grandma said it with a wide smile like she'd just won the lottery.
I raised a brow and asked in disbelief:
> "Can you two read minds? You look at each other and just… know."
They paused, then turned their heads away, looking embarrassed.
Grandpa adjusted his glasses and said:
> "When you're older… you'll understand."
I let that slide. I had a goal.
Then Grandpa said suddenly:
> "But you won't use the family name. You'll enter under an alias. We'll set up a new identity for you. But you must memorize every detail."
I nodded slowly:
> "Understood."
Grandma chimed in, clasping her hands:
> "And you won't go alone. We're sending the other girls with you. We know you well… you're a disaster on legs."
> "Okay, okay..." I muttered, annoyed.
Grandpa smirked, raising an eyebrow:
> "We know the real reason you want to go to the palace."
I blinked, confused… until both Grandma and Grandpa shifted their gaze toward Ren.
I froze, then whipped around to see him pretending to admire the ceiling like an innocent angel.
> "You told them?!"
I hissed.
He said nervously, hiding his face behind his sleeve:
> "Me? I didn't say anything... they just guessed..."
I sighed and smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand:
> "Clearly, you're terrible at keeping secrets."
But despite everything… I was grateful. I'd succeeded in the first step.
Now, just a few things remained, and it would all be over.
Grandma came closer to where I was sitting, her eyes sparkling with a look I knew all too well—economic curiosity.
She sat beside me and stared at me like she was evaluating an investment:
> "Tell me, how much do you expect to earn from this job?"
I raised an eyebrow and replied calmly:
> "I'm not really sure. They haven't announced the amount… but I think it's decent."
Grandma nodded, then leaned in and whispered like we were making a secret deal:
> "And if you do get paid, what's your plan?"
I smiled, placing my hand proudly on my chest:
> "I'll spend it, of course—but if there's anything left… I might send half to you."
Grandma grinned slyly and said:
> "Excellent idea… but if you want my advice? Find yourself a rich husband."
I turned to her in surprise:
> "What? Why?"
She chuckled softly, running her hand over her embroidered dress, and said proudly:
> "Do you think I married your grandfather for love alone?"
She paused a moment, then added with a smirk,
"Okay, fine, love was a factor—but he came from a distinguished family… and he was very handsome…
Also—" (she lowered her voice) "—other girls were betting on who'd win him. In the end, I did."
I laughed and smacked my forehead again:
> "Ah… now I get it. Love of money runs in this family's veins."
We both laughed—a mischievous kind of laugh.
We chatted about money, gold prices, and even luxury chocolate—and how its taste somehow felt superior, even if it was technically the same type.
And in the peak of this financial bonding, Grandpa sighed from afar, head down, and muttered with a tone of surrender:
> "Good heavens… you two are exactly the same… sigh."
•••
Back to the present...
The soft footsteps of four girls echoed along the cobbled path leading toward the town hall.
Katrina—or Leona, as she was now known—walked with steady steps, her back straight, her arms tucked neatly inside her coat sleeves. A faint smile played on her lips—barely noticeable—but her eyes, those "little fox" eyes, were half-lidded and cunning, as if she were silently weighing everything… even her companions' voices.
To her right, Iseline spoke with overwhelming excitement, her hands moving dramatically, like words weren't enough to express her thoughts:
> "Can you imagine?! They said the prince passed by here two days ago! Here! Right hereee!"
Selina, the sensitive and shy one, merely offered a small smile and a barely audible mumble, clearly trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
In contrast, Vilene seemed lost in another world. Her hands tucked into the pockets of her dark blue coat, eyes fixed on a distant point far beyond the horizon, face unreadable.
Katrina didn't respond to Iseline's chatter, but she didn't ignore it either. She tilted her head slightly, as if observing from afar, quietly enjoying the background noise.
But then, the girls all suddenly stopped.
They'd noticed something unusual.
On a small hill overlooking the sea, near the town hall, a group of girls had gathered around a wide, traditional-looking kiosk. It was rectangular in shape, with a sloped, polygonal roof—like a refined wooden tent. Its sides were open and painted in a deep red, giving it the look of a small open-air stage.
The wooden flooring underneath shone in a purplish-brown hue, giving it a rustic vintage vibe, while the deep black roof reflected sunlight boldly.
And from atop that hill, gentle waves lapped at the rocks below.
As for the sea… it was green.
Yes, green—a soft emerald shade.
Katrina raised an eyebrow subtly, observing the scene in silence, and muttered to herself with dry sarcasm:
> "A green sea? Pretty... but not the weirdest thing I've seen. In my world, there's a lake that's pink. Who am I to be surprised?"
She shook her head slightly and continued walking toward the kiosk without saying a word, leaving behind an air of calm confidence—like someone who's already seen it all and couldn't be easily impressed.
Iseline quickly followed, still babbling with excitement:
> "Ah! Let's check it out! Maybe they'll give us candy! Or free samples! Or—"
But Vilene's cold voice cut in sharply:
> "Or maybe it's just another rumor… no one will care by tomorrow."
No one paid attention to her remark—except maybe Katrina, who cast a sideways glance at the sea, then closed her eyes for a moment…
Like a fox catching the scent of a new hunt.
•••
The four girls approached the hill crowned by the wide rectangular pavilion that stood calmly above the crashing waves below. The salty breeze rose from the sea, carrying with it the roar of the surf and the whispers of the wind. Dozens of girls had already gathered there—some laughing and chatting, others standing nervously, as though everyone was waiting for something just about to begin.
Eiselyn raised an eyebrow, scanning the area with suspicion. She tilted her head slightly, as she always did when something puzzled her, and murmured:
"Strange… Why is everyone gathered here? Is this part of the test?"
Before her words had even faded, a loud, energetic female voice rang out:
"Eiiiseelyn!!"
All eyes turned toward the sound. A tall girl with fiery red hair tied in a messy braid came running toward them excitedly. Eiselyn instantly smiled and opened her arms without hesitation. They embraced warmly, like long-lost friends reunited.
The red-haired girl laughed, still gripping her friend's shoulders.
"What on earth are you doing here?!"
Eiselyn pulled back slightly, a bit puzzled.
"Mailet, dear… actually, we were wondering the same. Why are all these girls here?"
Mailet raised her eyebrows in surprise, then gestured toward the pavilion behind her.
"Oh, you didn't hear? The practical test is being held here instead of the town hall like usual."
The four girls exchanged looks, and finally, the situation made sense.
But Mailet interrupted the moment of realization, placing her hands on her hips.
"But what are all of you doing here? You don't look like you're preparing for any exam… and you girls don't even need to work as maids!"
At that, Eiselyn stepped forward and jerked her thumb toward "Leona," who stood silently behind them.
"Grandfather asked us to accompany her…"
Mailet turned her attention to Leona, giving her a slow once-over. It was the first time she'd seen her, and indeed, Leona didn't resemble the other girls much—aside from her pale blond hair, which might have suggested she belonged.
But her rare violet eyes, and the way she held herself—wary, yet utterly unconcerned—hinted at a very different kind of person.
Mailet stepped closer and asked with open curiosity:
"And you are? I don't recall seeing you before."
Before Leona could answer, Eiselyn cut in again:
"She's one of my cousins."
Mailet nodded as if satisfied, then smiled sideways.
"Hmm… I see. You look a bit odd, but that's fine—we all are."
Then she clapped her hands with playful energy and turned to them all.
"Come on, follow me. You better get ready fast—the supervisors are arriving in just a few minutes!"
She grabbed Eiselyn's hand and started pulling her along, the others trailing behind. Leona followed in silence, her gaze sharp and calculating, examining every corner and detail of the place.
Deep down, she was certain—this was no ordinary test.
As the four girls approached the preparation area, Leona turned her head this way and that, her eyes scanning everything with a clever gleam and a sidelong smile that suggested sarcasm more than kindness.
While they walked, a girl with bubblegum-pink hair tied with white ribbons rushed toward them, speaking with bright excitement:
"Ah! Eiselyn! What are you doing here?"
She hugged her quickly, then turned a curious gaze toward the rest.
Eiselyn answered, nodding toward Leona:
"Our grandfather asked us to accompany my cousin, Lina."
(Leona raised a brow in silent disdain, muttering inwardly: Lina? Annoying name… but fine.)
The girl stopped in front of Leona, studying her for a moment, then gave a shy smile.
"I've never seen you before… which branch are you from?"
Leona replied with a fake smile:
"The secret one that avoids family gatherings."
The girl chuckled softly, though she clearly didn't get the joke.
"I'm Medalia. Come with me—they've started calling names."
---
As soon as the girls entered the preparation area, the buzz and chatter rose all around them. Some girls were chatting loudly, others flaunting their outfits, while a few sat quietly, mentally preparing for what lay ahead.
Leona stood with a hand on her hip, surveying the scene calmly. Then she muttered dryly:
"Well… looks like the bride boot camp has officially begun."
Felin grinned and whispered:
"If Grandpa heard you, he'd lock you in the basement."
Leona replied without flinching, pulling on her glove:
"At least I'd get some peace and quiet… no screaming."
Suddenly, silence fell over the area. The whispers turned into a different kind of hum—tense and excited.
"He's here!"
"The supervisors have arrived!"
"Ahhh, look at him! He looks like he stepped out of a novel!"
Three supervisors entered the square with slow, deliberate steps—like they were part of a well-rehearsed stage play.
The first: a bulky man in his forties, with a protruding belly and a strange grin flashing golden teeth. His thick beard reeked of strong cologne, and he wore a traditional dark blue Chinese hanfu robe.
The second: a gray-haired woman with severe features that looked carved with a ruler. Her heavy, dark blue dress warned that she did not play games.
But the third… sparked total chaos.
A tall young man with porcelain skin, deep tea-colored eyes, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and sleek black hair tied elegantly. He wore a silk hanfu in dark blue, embroidered with a silver dragon curling from shoulder to waist. His long sleeves drifted with every graceful step.
The courtyard erupted.
"Oh my god, he's so handsome!"
"Who is he?! Unreal!"
"He can't be one of the noble sons, can he?!"
In the midst of this starstruck frenzy, Leona watched him with a fixed gaze and dry sarcasm:
"Handsome? Yes. Striking? Certainly. But this screaming? Way over the top. We're not at a mermaid prince's welcoming party."
She waved her hand as if meditating.
"Breathe, ladies. We're here to pass a test, not hunt for husbands."
Felin laughed out loud.
"I was waiting for you to go full snarky."
Leona answered confidently, watching the waves of admiration hitting the young man:
"Me? Snarky? No… I'm the bitter medicine they need—whether they know it or not."
At that moment, the young man stood quietly, checking names off a small wooden clipboard.
His eyes met Leona's.
She didn't smile. She didn't flinch. Just stared back—calm and steady.
And inside, she thought: Pretty… but I don't trust a man who wears more perfume than my mother.
Then he looked away.
And the supervisors began to speak…
•••
And no sooner had that moment of introductions—filled with chaos, laughter, and fascination with the calm young man—ended, than the day suddenly sped up in a strange way… as if time had decided to sprint instead of walk.
The evaluation began.
The wooden kiosk was open at the front, resembling a judge's platform—or, as Leona put it in her mind, "a futuristic guillotine."
Behind the long table sat the three supervisors, in an intentionally arranged order:
At the center: The stern-faced woman in her forties, as if her face were carved from marble. Her hair was pulled back tightly, her eyes sharp as blades, evaluating the girls like she was weighing their souls, not their skills.
To her right: The chubby man, also in his forties, with a messy beard and a face constantly flushed like he'd just come from a feast. He sat back in his chair in a relaxed, almost unsettling way.
To her left: The handsome young man. Late twenties, refined features, sharp eyes that didn't seem cruel, and an overall presence that screamed well-mannered perfection.
The moment he appeared, ululations—both literal and metaphorical—erupted from the crowd in front of Leona:
> "Aaaah! Did you see his eyes? Like they're from another world!"
"Do you think he's single?!"
"He looks like a prince from one of those stories!"
As for Leona? She raised an unimpressed eyebrow and muttered to herself:
> "Handsome? Sure. Charming? Maybe.
But is that worth all this screaming? You'd think they saw the Sacred Dragon or something.
Calm down, girls… this is a maid evaluation, not a fashion show."
Then she crossed her arms inside her sleeves, with that small, sarcastic smile—her personal signature.
---
The evaluation system? Harsh. Messy. Brutally real.
The girls stood in a long line outside the kiosk, under the direct sun.
Each girl entered, performed the required task, then stood aside—specifically to the right, away from the chubby man.
First challenge: sweeping.
Sand was dumped heavily on the floor. Each girl was handed a poorly made wooden broom and asked to clean it up as fast and accurately as possible.
The message was clear:
> "The palace doesn't tolerate slowness or chaos," declared the stern woman.
Some girls broke down. One held the broom upside down. Another spun around with it like it was a magical wand from a children's tale.
The noise outside faded as embarrassment inside the kiosk multiplied.
Next challenge: mopping.
A small amount of water was poured, and the girl was asked to mop it completely—quickly and thoroughly.
Then came the most decisive part—perhaps easiest for some:
The cooking test.
Each girl had to list several recipes, their exact ingredients, and preparation steps—briefly and clearly.
Then:
The reading and writing test.
The result?
Embarrassing.
Many girls couldn't read a simple sentence. Their eyes swam over the letters like they were ancient runes. Their tongues stumbled on the most basic words.
> "School? I never went…"
"Books? They cost more than bread in our neighborhood…"
Each one said something similar.
And the female supervisor took notes in silence, her icy expression unchanged.
•••
At the end of the line stood Leona.
Her face was calm… but her mind was in battle.
> "Sweeping? I don't know how.
Mopping? A watery disaster.
But cooking? Yes.
Reading? Excellent.
Writing? Better than most here.
The question is… how do I get through the physical part without looking weak?"
She glanced at the handsome young man, who was quietly taking notes, watching a girl mop the floor diligently.
> "Suspicious. Why is he observing them so closely?
Is he just a supervisor… or is he watching for something else? A psychological test? A performance trap?"
Leona started watching—not the girls, but the supervisors themselves.
The stern woman focused solely on technical performance.
The chubby man yawned and mocked:
> "She's sweeping like she's saying goodbye to her mother!"
"Is this a play? Mop, don't act!"
The young man spoke gently and politely:
> "Is this method comfortable for you?"
"Can you speed it up without losing accuracy?"
Some girls stuttered the moment he addressed them. Their eyes turned to hearts. Their answers became pleas rather than responses.
Leona's frown deepened.
She crossed her arms tightly and muttered sarcastically:
> "Dear God, please keep me from slapping one of them out of sheer stupidity.
This is a maid exam, not the latest episode of a Korean or Indian drama.
Focus, ladies."
•••
The final turn came.
Leona—looking like the short girl with a fox-like gaze—stepped toward the kiosk calmly, seemingly indifferent, though her face clearly stated:
> "I hate people."
She took the broom from one of the assistants without interest, prompting the stern woman to sigh and say:
— "Begin, and please don't make a mess."
Leona looked at the broom like she'd been handed a stone-age weapon, then muttered as she stared at it:
— "Lovely… a stick tied with the hair of a dead horse? So advanced."
The chubby man laughed hard enough to shake his belly, and some girls in the back hid their giggles behind their hands.
As for the young man, he didn't laugh, but he did raise an eyebrow while watching her.
Leona began sweeping—but not like a maid in an exam. She dragged the broom behind her like someone dragging a stubborn dog.
Then she stopped, turned to them, and asked with exaggerated seriousness:
— "Can I perform a dance number instead of sweeping? I think it'd be more cleansing… psychologically, at least."
Scattered laughter rose around her, and the chubby man said mockingly:
— "If she were a dancing maid, I'd send her to the palace immediately!"
But the woman didn't smile. Instead, she said dryly:
— "This is a test, not a comedy show. Mop the floor."
Leona sighed, picked up the cloth, and began mopping slowly, like she was conducting a sacred ritual.
Suddenly, she slipped and fell flat on her face.
— "Great. The floor's now cleaner than my dignity."
The place burst into laughter. Even the most anxious girls forgot their worries for a moment.
But the stern woman wasn't amused. She stood up angrily from her chair:
— "Enough! If you don't behave seriously, you'll be disqualified immediately."
At that moment, the handsome young man raised his hand and said calmly:
— "Allow me to conduct her theoretical evaluation, Miss Margaret."
The woman looked at him with displeasure, then nodded.
He opened a neat notebook, looked at Leona kindly, and asked:
— "What are the ingredients of imperial barley soup?"
Leona closed her eyes for a moment, as if tasting the soup in her imagination, then replied:
— "Barley soaked overnight, carrots, celery, white onion, roasted chicken bone, a dash of white pepper, and one spoon of flour… about the size of a forgotten heart."
— "A forgotten heart?" he asked, puzzled.
"I'm joking. Just a spoonful of flour. I was adding a literary touch."
The young man smiled faintly, then began asking her other recipes, one after the other. She answered each with precision, as if she had them memorized for years.
Then he asked,
"Can you read and write?"
Leona slowly raised an eyebrow, as though the question insulted her intelligence:
"I was solving equations in the womb."
He handed her a paper and pen. She wrote a sentence in elegant language, with neatly spaced handwriting, then drew a small rose in the corner.
The young man closed his notebook with a smile and glanced at his two colleagues:
"She may not excel in physical tasks, but she has rare skills. I'm raising my evaluation of her."
The strict woman didn't comment. She simply pressed her lips together in silence.
Leona stood up, tucked her hair behind her ear, then said lightly as she walked back toward the girls:
"I hope someone cleans the floor after me… I left pieces of my pride on it."
Laughter echoed again. Even the chubby man chimed in:
"If this girl doesn't get accepted, I'll resign tomorrow."
But before Leona could walk to stand with the others, a quiet, deep voice stopped her—a voice tinged with curiosity:
Young man:
"Tell me… if someone suffers internal bleeding in the abdomen, what's the first sign you'd notice?"
Leona froze mid-step, tilted her head slightly toward him, and answered without hesitation, her voice calm:
Leona:
"Pale face, rapid heartbeat, and low blood pressure. And sometimes… pain in the left shoulder due to diaphragm irritation."
The young man's eyebrow rose slightly, and he smiled faintly, unable to hide it.
Young man:
"Excellent answer… Not common knowledge among new servants."
Leona gave him a cold glance and said to herself quietly:
Leona:
"My sister's a doctor. And I listen well."
He didn't comment on her sharpness, but he looked at her longer than necessary, a gaze full of thought.
Young man (muttering):
"Smart… and stubborn too."
Then he slowly turned away, as though that was enough for now… but the smile carved on his face remained—subtle… and dangerous.
To be continued…