As they descended to the first floor, they encountered two massive solid gold doors flanked by guards. The sentries stood at rigid attention in striking armor—sleek metal plates protecting vital points while ceremonial plumes adorned their helmets. Their polished breastplates reflected the morning light streaming through nearby windows, and their hands rested casually on ornate sword hilts, suggesting both decoration and deadly competence.
Before the doors stood two other attendants wearing white ornate dresses with golden flowers at the left breast, identical to his attendant's uniform.
These were Araya's other attendants.
The one on the right looked thoroughly bored. She possessed an olive-shaped face with small, uninterested storm-grey eyes and a thin frame. Deep green hair was pulled into a severe bun, and her pale skin seemed to carry an almost verdant undertone—though Jack couldn't tell if he was imagining it.
The attendant on the left presented a stark contrast. Dark-skinned with short black hair cut at the neck and straight bangs framing her face, she watched Jack approach with pitch-black eyes that held unsettling intensity.
Shivers ran down his spine for reasons he couldn't identify.
"You're late," both attendants said in perfect unison as Jack and his maiden reached the doors.
Jack's mouth went dry. Should he apologize? Did princesses apologize to servants? But wouldn't attendants rank lower than him?
Before he could form a response, his maiden spoke up, and he realized he wasn't the one being addressed.
"Sorry about that, Araya just—"
"Princess Araya," the dark-skinned attendant corrected sharply, making her flinch. "And I don't want excuses, Ema. We should begin—the meeting started ten minutes ago. We'll only make the od-Abidi Kingdom look incompetent the longer we delay."
Ema looked ashamed despite the situation being beyond her control. Jack was the one who'd awakened in this body with no understanding of protocol, yet she was taking blame for his confusion. Why was this other attendant being so harsh? Was that her personality, or were there hierarchies even among servants?
Still, there was a victory here—he finally knew her name! Ema. It even sounded English, making it easier to remember. Not particularly useful information, but at least he could address her properly and avoid awkward situations.
As the harsh attendant opened the golden doors, Jack noticed the quiet one's gaze drift to where he and Ema still held hands.
Her eyebrow arched—the only expression she'd shown yet.
Jack quickly separated his hand from Ema's, having forgotten their continued contact.
The doors swung open with impressive weight, revealing the chamber beyond.
A circular table the size of his dorm room dominated the trade room's center, crafted from smooth, burnished metal that gleamed like captured sunlight. Jack wondered absently whether this civilization was so wealthy they could afford such extravagance, or if precious metals simply held less value in this world.
The chamber itself felt massive—easily the size of a football field. Seven towering windows lined the room's circumference, their frames gleaming with metallic inlay. Purple curtains blocked much of the sunlight, long stretches of rich fabric bearing an insignia that resembled two hands locked in firm handshake.
The people around the table were clearly divided into two factions. On his left, roughly ten individuals sat in grand chairs, engaged in heated discussion with their counterparts. They wore predominantly blue and green garments, some decorated with ornamental scales that caught the filtered light.
Their apparent leader was a thin man in his fifties with a short beard and sharp, calculating features. His weathered hands gestured as he spoke, and his eyes held the shrewd intelligence of someone accustomed to difficult negotiations.
On Jack's side of the table, a man and woman sat in the most elaborate clothing. The woman wore an intricate gown with aureate embroidery and a gleaming circlet upon her head, while the man beside her wore expensive but simpler attire—an amber-colored shirt and trousers adorned with several pieces of lustrous jewelry.
The king and queen, undoubtedly.
Another man sat beside the king, speaking aggressively to the opposing delegation. He twisted to glare at Jack upon his entrance, sending an unpleasant jolt down Jack's spine. That hostile look made him deeply uncomfortable. The man wore rich clothing similar to the royals', though less elaborate. Another royal family member?
A group of older men sat slightly apart from the immediate royals but remained meaningfully engaged in discussions. Likely court members or, given the meeting's nature, financial advisors.
"You're late, Princess Araya." The queen's voice cut through the chamber as her finger—adorned with a gleaming nail—traced deliberate circles around a coin's edge.
'Yeah, I know', Jack wanted to reply sarcastically. 'Why don't you just let me sit down and pretend I don't exist?'
Though he'd never voice such thoughts, the look the queen gave him—logically his mother in this body—sent chills through his spine similar to the harsh attendant's glare, but magnified tenfold.
In that single moment of eye contact, Jack experienced pure terror unlike anything from his previous life. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, his muscles seized briefly, and he nearly lost bladder control.
"We've been waiting for you, Araya." The king spoke in a cheerful baritone, motioning to an empty seat at his right, completely oblivious to the microscopic moment of terror that had just occurred.
As Jack shakily approached his seat—nearly spraining his ankle again without Ema's support, still unaccustomed to this body and trembling from the queen's withering stare—he wondered what had just happened. Part of him wanted to collapse and confess everything.
Why had he reacted so intensely? Did the queen possess some supernatural power? But there'd be no reason to use it on her daughter, right?
Only one logical explanation remained: Was Araya's body reacting despite Jack's control?
Was the former princess truly that terrified of the queen?
"As I was saying," the sharp-featured man across the table continued, "Harbor City's position on the mineral extraction rights remains unchanged. We've increased our steel and silver output by thirty percent this quarter, yet od-Abidi continues demanding the same spice and coral quotas at reduced prices." He gestured to the documents before him. "Our maritime trade routes face increased piracy, our workers demand higher wages, and the kingdom's aureate currency fluctuations make long-term contracts nearly impossible to maintain."
The man's weathered hands spread across detailed charts. "We're proposing a graduated pricing system based on seasonal availability and a mutual defense pact for our shipping lanes. In return, Harbor City would guarantee exclusive access to our deep-water mining operations and increase precious metal shipments by fifteen percent."
Jack nodded despite understanding virtually nothing. Behind him, Ema and the other attendants stood silently while he sat. He tried following the rapid-fire political and trade discussions, but too many names and logistics flew past for him to track.
At least no one was asking him anything directly. He remained thankfully invisible as conversations continued. Hopefully this would end quickly so he could figure out how to escape this situation, though he hadn't the slightest idea where to begin.
"Aya." The king spoke softly, nudging Jack's arm and nearly making him jump from his already tense body. "Are you listening?"
"Yes, I am," he replied hurriedly, then paused. Aya? He'd thought her name was Araya.
Catching the king's almost affectionate expression, he realized it was a nickname.
The king spoke quietly while the queen, trade advisors, and the hostile man who'd glared at Jack remained deep in conversation, passing papers filled with tables, data, and contracts.
"You know you'll have to contribute to negotiations eventually, right?" The king's voice carried light, caring tones. "Can't let your brother do all the talking. The coronation might be months away, but your people might choose him instead if you don't demonstrate competence."
A coronation? Hadn't Ema mentioned coronation clothes he'd removed from the chest? Wasn't that when leaders were officially crowned? Given his current state, he'd rather avoid all attention.
Still, the king's expression seemed almost... expectant. He wanted her to contribute meaningfully to the meeting despite no obligation. Would this be something the original Araya would do? Would remaining silent raise suspicion?
The king motioned for documents to be passed over, and Jack held them carefully. The paper felt slightly heavier than Earth's equivalent—perhaps this civilization hadn't perfected paper technology.
As his eyes scanned the document, Jack noticed something peculiar. In an attempt to gain the king's favor, he spoke.
"There's an error in this document."