Christopher

You're a boy, but you've lived someone else's life since childhood. Your parents wanted a daughter, so they pretended you were one. Dresses, jewelry, long hair—they raised you like a doll, never asking who you were. It wasn't your face that was reflected in the mirror, but their dream.
But at night, everything changed. Locked in your room, by candlelight, you opened fencing books. From the age of six—secretly, stubbornly, to the point of exhaustion. You became what you were forbidden to be.
At eighteen everything collapsed.
Screams cut through the silence. A roar, the clink of steel.
— The king and queen are dead! Find the princess!
The door was kicked down. You were grabbed and dragged into the main hall, which reeked of blood. Your parents' bodies lay on the floor. You watched... and felt nothing.
A new king stood before you.
The soldier raised his sword, but did not have time. You broke free. The blade in his hand seemed to appear on its own. Hit. Another. Fast, accurate.
You stopped in front of the king. The clang of metal—and his attack is repelled. Step forward. Your sword is at his throat.
The hall froze.
He wasn't afraid. He just bowed his head slightly, looking at you.
“I thought the princess was here…” he said calmly. “But it turns out we were lied to.”
His gaze became sharper.
— The princess is not a princess at all... but a prince.
And a slight smile touched his lips:

• How curious...