Well, it did.
The entire royal drama? The power struggles, the manipulation, the subversion? I was so done with it.
Don't get me wrong, I'd thoroughly enjoyed seeing the King squirm a little. It was like a royal soap opera, and I was the star of every episode. But eventually, it got... dull. Same faces. Same vacant thrones. Same wicked mom just biding her time until she could swoop in and grab power. And of course, let's not forget I was still a mere infant, stuck in this palace with nothing but too much time on my hands and no real responsibilities—beyond stirring the pot every so often.
I could have maintained the game. I could have just kept on destabilizing the King and burning everything to the ground with my tantrum-like destruction. But in all seriousness? I was sick of all the grown-up business.
So, I did what any rational reincarnated being would do:
I checked out.
Yeah. I gave all that royal drama to my wicked mother. She wanted power? Let her have it. She could handle the King and his headaches. Me? I began to find peace in the simple things.
Step 1: The Homesick Princess
But as I retreated from the fray, something began to nest in my heart—a strange sensation I hadn't anticipated.
I missed my old life.
It wasn't that I longed to return to my university life (heaven forbid). But... I missed the mundanity of it all. The routine of my ordinary life. The late-night television programs, the oddly perfect routine of being a student who did nothing, and the complete freedom of being nobody.
Here, in this world of secrets and plots that is the royal world, I was never truly myself. I was always Princess Charlotte, a figure whose every step was anticipated and planned, like some strange chess piece in some giant game of politics. But in my previous life? I didn't have to play games. I could just... be.
I started to get homesick for the life I once had, although I realized I could never return.
The palace was lovely, the extravagance was stifling, and the servants treated me like a queen. But I missed the plainspoken simplicity of my life before—something I could never regain. Whatever number of ballrooms of royals I might dance in and whatever number of people I could have adoration from, there was one thing I couldn't shake: I wasn't myself anymore.
Step 2: Imagining BL and GL Knights
In the quiet of my new life, I withdrew. My mind wandered, as it tended to when I was bored, to my world of old—namely, the books I once read.
Yes. BL (Boys' Love) and GL (Girls' Love). How could I forget? I mean, they were my escapism before, my entertainment. And now? Well, I was able to fantasize about them in my life. Why not?
I'd begun picturing the knights and lords of this world as characters in some sort of dramatic, lovely romance novel. The knights would naturally be handsome, muscular, and tragic heroes, like in the novels I used to devour. Some would be suitors for my love, and others would be loyal guardians, secretly pining for my affection.
And, naturally, there'd be tangled relationships. Perhaps a brooding GL romance with one of the palace servants. A forbidden BL relationship between two of the King's counselors. There was no end to the amount of drama I could come up with in my mind.
And who could forget the swoon-worthy moments? Long, moonlit stares, furtive smiles whispered between crowded rooms, and, naturally, the grand dramatic confessions of love, ideally beneath the weeping willow at dusk. I had all the time in the world to dream up these scenes, and that's precisely what I did.
The knights? Oh, they were my favorites. I'd name them "Sir Kael" and "Lord Elias," two sworn enemies who couldn't help but fall in love even though they're not supposed to. One was a raging battle-hardened warrior, the other a brooding genius. Theirs was a tale of stolen glances, torrid letters, and, of course, the time-honored "I'm not supposed to love you but I do" cliché. I was on fire.
Step 3: Doodling My Heart Away
As I got older, I caught myself taking my imagination and making it something real. Something more useful than daydreaming about knights and their secret loves.
I began doodling.
Yes. It was my new passion. Whenever I was bored, I took a piece of parchment and began to draw the characters of my fictional BL and GL universes. I sketched knights in armor, happy noblewomen, doomed lovers with tear-stained eyes and long hair.
For some reason, despite having hated all those romance novels during my previous life, now I was writing my own novels. And I adored it. It was an escape—just as the books had been. Only now, I was in control of creating the stories. And, naturally, I never shared my sketches with anyone. They were private, concealed in the pages of a journal I kept in the back corner of my room, out of the royal eyes.
Step 4: A New, Quiet Peace
And so, I found peace in my own world of knights, romance novels, and doodles.
I had no desire to become embroiled in my mother's plotting or the King's games of power. If they wanted to war over control of the kingdom, let them. I was happy to be an observer, nudging things now and then, just enough to keep things interesting.
But the rest of the time? I was lost in my new, quiet existence—where the most important decisions were who my fictional knights would fall in love with next, and whether I could make them kiss under a cherry blossom tree.
Perhaps one day I'd discover something to love once more. Until then, however, I was content enough drawing my knights in shining armor and dreaming about my former life.