Yena had been sleeping on the same bed for nineteen years. 

Different sheets, sure. Perhaps a new pillow or two bought by her mom growing up. However, her mattress has always stayed the same for almost two decades and her body is almost too accustomed to the memory foam of her mattress.

She can say with confidence that she will instantly know she’s on a bed that isn't hers. Now is one of those times. 

Her physique sinks in a mattress that's softer than usual, rivaling the hotels Yena sometimes stayed in on trips. 

Unfamiliar scents enter her nose. Tangerine with a hint of strong apple. A bit strange since detergents are usually floral - well, there will always be exceptions.

Hearing soft, rhythmic breathing next to her, Yena's body tenses. It is uncomfortably close to her ear, knocking drowsiness from her system, her breaths shortening. 

Turning her neck, checking the source of the sound, blood rushes to her face upon coming close to a sleeping face and her breathing unconsciously halts. 

Immediately, she scoots away, preserving the very much-needed personal space. 

Yuri Jo. Memories of the girl stealing her first kiss now surge through her mind like a raging river. 

A strange memory to have of some girl who treated her like a housepet during their first real conversation.

Yena’s eyebrows scrunched - the very same girl lies before her, innocence oozing from her soft, cherubic sleeping face, looking as harmless as an angel. 

As if.

Her stomach lets out an untimely gurgle. Right, she didn’t make it back home for dinner last night. Mom’s samgyetang… Yena gulps. She can almost taste the food just from the mental image alone. 

Where do I even get food? 

Yena looks at Yuri tentatively, tongue pushing against bottom lip. She should know where to find food, right? 

However, her hand tenses, stopping just above Yuri’s shoulder, a voice ringing in her head as she looks at the sleeping girl. 

Ha. How cute, you can't even find food for yourself? Pets can't just get enough help, huh?

Yena shudders. No. She shouldn't rely on Yuri’s help, as much as humanly possible. 

Feeding oneself is an essential human skill that one can achieve with effort. Checking her wristwatch, her eyebrows raise at the blocky digital numbers of clearly incorrect time, tensing up. 

Seems like it might take some time for her to get used to this vast difference. That is in terms of the world, time zone, and situation - a lot to take in, if you ask her.

Dark shades of purple smudge the sky, vividly visible through the dorm room window. There are small traces of upcoming sunrise peeking through the clouds, painting a very soothing image.

★彡

Heading out of the girls’ dormitory, she straightens her jacket with a yawn. Arms stopping mid-stretch, she blinks. Several women in matching elegant long black and white uniforms loiter the campus that early in the day. 

Maids. Elegant ones too.

Some carry laundry baskets close to their chests, strolling down the hallways in mindless chatter with a fellow maid. Others are tending to various plants decorating the school grounds, snipping around with huge shears. The rest are dusting the walls and windows off with white feather dusters in hand.

A maid crosses her path, and Yena mumbles out an unsure “Good morning…” 

“Oh, hello, good morning!” the maid replies with a smile, surprising Yena a bit with the warmth and hospitality. There is no suspicion in her body language as if seeing Yena is just a regular occurrence. “Are you lost? If you are, don’t hesitate to ask any of us. It is our job.”

Yena considerably eases up. Since yesterday, most of the people she saw were either stuck-up or treated her like an interesting specimen. 

A smile makes its way up her lips. “I will, thanks.” Seeing a glimpse of the massive window behind the maid, she opens . “Actually, what time is it? My watch is a bit off.”

The maid’s lips curl down in thought, looking up at the ceiling. “I think it’s... around 4 am right now? If you want to make sure, there’s a clock tower outside,” she says, motioning to the eastern wing window with a wave of her hand.

Thanking her, Yena jogs over to the window the maid pointed at earlier. Visible from the window is a giant clock tower standing tall right in the middle of the campus, like a mini Big Ben. And she takes this chance to fix the time in her watch.

Soon, the clock strikes four, the sky now a light shade of purple. 

Most of the staff drop their work, heading in the same direction in groups, chatting happily. 

Curiosity rising from the depths of her guts, Yena follows the sea of maids, her rubber shoes squeaking through the tiles.

Yena matches the pace of the nearest maid she spots. “Hey, where’s everyone going?”

The maid had a light brown, almost orange, slightly curled bob, a thin black headband adorning her hair, her posture flawless as if trained in the art for several years prior. 

Despite the experienced demeanor, the maid looks a lot younger than most of the other staff members.

“What do you mean where? It’s breakfast,” she answers casually, turning to her. When she meets Yena’s eyes, a small gasp escapes her lips. “Oh! You’re that peasant! Miss Jo’s familiar, right?”

Yena sighs lightly with a resigned smile, remembering Yuri's lecture on the class system of this place.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me.”

The young maid chuckles, poise slowly becoming friendlier. “You’ve been a hot topic among us since,” 

So that's why the maids didn't act suspiciously around her.

Lowering her voice, the maid cups halfway, leaning her head closer. “You kissed the Duke’s daughter?”

“She kissed me,” Yena corrects her without missing a beat, her eyebrows creasing. 

Did she look like the type to be crazy enough to kiss a stranger?

“You still kissed, you know? That’s a big deal if you consider her social class,” she points out in a matter-of-fact tone. “By the way, I’m Chaewon,” she says, holding her hand out for a handshake.

Yena shakes it firmly. “Yena,” she says simply. “Is it okay if I get breakfast with everyone?”

Rubbing her chin, Chaewon gazes up in the slowly brightening sky as they walk on the path leading to the kitchen. 

“The head cook is quite strict about the policy of eating and earning your keep, so better be prepared for her to have you work right after breakfast.”

Yena nods, almost too eagerly. “That’s fine with me.” 

★彡 

The scene around the entire table seems almost like a party with the amount of food and people gathered in one place. 

Everyone sitting around the table is all in uniform - either in a maid dress or cooking overalls. Feeling the difference in her outfit from everyone else, Yena shifts a bit on the wooden seat. 

To calm down, she pinches her arm, taking a deep breath and puffing her chest out. 

A mouthwatering scent emanates from the enormous pot of stew in the middle of the table. Loaves of bread are free for picking all over the table, bumming her out a bit - she doesn’t go a day without rice. 

The stew, however, tastes very much like the army stew back home, which is nice.

“So you’re the girl who kissed the daughter of the Duke and Duchess Jo,” the head cook tells Yena with an impish smile, and Yena almost chokes on her bread. 

Patting her back, Chaewon slides a glass of water in front of her.

Slamming down the glass, Yena frowns up at the head cook. “I didn’t kiss her."

The cook her head, amusement playing on her lips. “So you’re saying that Miss Jo kissed you, a peasant? That’s a bit farfetched, isn’t it?”

“I’m telling the truth!”

The head cook is a light-haired young woman, seeming not that far from Yena’s age. The sleeves of her white chef’s jacket are rolled up to her elbows. 

Her sharp cat-like eyes give off the feeling that she knows more than she lets on. Yena silently wonders how someone so young can already lead the kitchen and have no older cook protest at the setup. 

The name Sakura is engraved on a golden pin on the left side of her chest.

Sakura chuckles at her outburst. “Chaewon, you really pick up interesting sorts.”

“Well, she found me,” Chaewon says, eating a piece of carefully cut beef. “Don’t grill her too much, isn’t she a foreigner? Look at her clothes.”

Sakura looks at her like an interesting mannequin from a clothing store. 

“Is that supposed to be a short raincoat but made of regular cotton cloth? But then you’d get wet anyway?”

Yena stops eating for a moment - the girl raises a good point. “Don’t think too hard about it. It’s mostly for fashion."

Taking a huge bite of the slightly bloated triangular bread that she has no idea what the exact name is, Yena's eyes slightly widen. She needs to ask around for the name of the bread eventually.

Sakura’s gaze still lingers on her jacket. “Hm… Well, that’s an interesting design, a hooded sweater... What country are you from?”

“I’m from...” Yena abruptly pauses to think. Judging from Yuri’s reaction last night, no one seems aware of her world. It would just be a pain in the to explain. “...I’m just from a province somewhere around here,” she mumbles to herself, nibbling on the slice of beef on her fork.

A small chuckle escapes Sakura’s lips before looking at Chaewon, who sits across her. “Hey, she’s a terrible liar, isn’t she?”

Chaewon nods without missing a beat. “I agree. That small tone is a dead giveaway.”

“Won’t last a day as an enemy spy, this one.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” Yena complains, followed by a huff, her lips turning down into a pout. “Fine, okay? I’m not from here.”

“So you’re a foreigner,” Chaewon concludes with a small hum. “She must be from Chosan or something. It just makes sense since she’s in warm clothes right now, fitting for a snowy country. Plus…” She smirks, pointing a fork in Yena’s direction “...she kissed a noble on her first day here, right? That sort of bold show of passion is so on point from a Chosan citizen.”

Sakura nods. “True. Her name sounds like one from around these parts too. Do you have a surname? I know that some commoner families fancy having one these days.”

Yena nods, tearing into her bread. “It’s Choi.”

“That sounds Hwalgeorian.”

“Hwalgeori and Chosan have the same sounding surnames though,” Sakura adds.

Yena deliberately tunes out of their conversation, letting them assign her nationalities she had no idea of. They should just think about what they want to believe. The meal is superb and deserves her attention more.

“So what say you? Want a job in the kitchen?” Sakura finally asks after her short altercation with Chaewon. “From what I can see, you have no ecus on you.”

Yena quirks an eyebrow. “Ecus?”

Chaewon tilts her head. “Um, coin? Your country doesn’t use ecus? The only country I know of that doesn’t use ecus is Hamasaki.”

Sakura nods. “Yup. We use bills issued by the Prime Minister over there,” she says, wiping her lips with a folded napkin. “Anyway, you can’t survive here with no ecus.”

“But Miss Jo will pay for her necessities, you know?” Chaewon says. “She’d be well taken care of. Just let her work for today’s food.”

“No!” 

Both Sakura and Chaewon suddenly face her, eyebrows raised.