After years of wandering the streets alone—homeless, hungry, and forgotten—Grace finally collapsed in a dark corner of the city. The cold pavement pressed against her cheek as her vision blurred. She had no strength left to beg, no tears left to cry. As the world faded into silence, she welcomed the darkness.
But darkness did not last.
Grace awoke with a sharp gasp.
She was no longer on the street. Instead, she lay in a wide, soft bed draped in silk sheets. The air smelled faintly of lavender. Sunlight streamed through tall, arched windows, illuminating a grand room decorated with gold trimmings and velvet curtains.
"What… what is going on?" she whispered hoarsely. "Where am I?"
Her body felt different—stronger, lighter. Confused, she pushed herself upright and stumbled toward an ornate mirror standing near the wall.
The girl staring back at her was not Grace.
Her hair shimmered like polished crystal, cascading down her back in waves. Her skin was flawless, almost glowing. But what made her breath hitch were the faint blue scales that traced along her upper arm, glistening beneath the morning light.
She yanked up her sleeve, panic rising in her chest.
"Are those… scales?" she gasped. "Oh my goodness… what happened to me?"
A knock echoed through the room.
"Your Highness?" a gentle voice called from the other side of the door. "Are you awake? May I come in?"
Highness?
Grace's heart slammed against her ribs.
"I have to hide," she whispered frantically, rushing toward the wardrobe and crouching beside it.
The door opened.
A young woman stepped inside, dressed in an elegant maid's uniform. She had soft brown eyes and carried herself with careful grace.
"Princess Crystal?" the maid called, looking around the room. "Where are you?"
Her gaze fell on the trembling figure near the wardrobe. Concern immediately filled her expression.
She approached slowly and knelt down. "Princess Crystal… are you alright?"
"I'm innocent, I promise!" Grace blurted out, her voice shaking. "I don't know where I—" She froze. "Wait… me? Princess?"
The maid blinked in confusion. "Yes, Your Highness. What are you doing down there? Do you still feel pain?"
Grace stood slowly, her mind spinning.
"What did you call me?"
"Princess Crystal, Your Majesty," the maid replied at once, bowing her head respectfully.
Grace glanced out the window. Beyond it stretched a magnificent kingdom—towers piercing the sky, banners fluttering in the wind, citizens moving about their day.
"Is this some kind of dream?" she muttered. "Who are you? And why are there scales on my body?"
The maid looked alarmed. "Your Highness, your questions are… concerning. You know very well this is your kingdom. You are Princess Crystal, heir to the royal throne—born with the heritable blood of the Blue Dragon. I am your personal maid, Renee."
Grace's legs felt weak. "Was I… sick before?"
"You fell from your horse two days ago," Renee explained gently. "You hit your head rather hard."
"Maybe…?" Grace pressed.
"Maybe that is why you are asking such strange questions."
Grace pressed a hand to her temple. "Yes… I still have a terrible headache."
"You have been resting for two days," Renee continued. "I'm here to help you prepare. The royal family is expecting you at breakfast."
Royal family.
Grace swallowed hard. "Oh… okay."
Renee dressed her in elegant garments of blue and silver. The fabric felt foreign against Grace's skin—too fine, too luxurious. When she caught her reflection again, she barely recognized the confident princess staring back at her.
But inside, she was still Grace.
Still alone.
Still afraid.
They entered a grand dining hall where a long table was set with shining cutlery and delicate china. At its head sat a king and queen, both regal and imposing. Beside them lounged a young man with sharp features and piercing eyes.
The queen's face lit up. "Crystal!"
Grace hesitated. "Hello… uh… Mom. Dad. And… brother."
The young man scoffed. "You're finally awake. Why do you sound like that?"
"Rowan!" the queen snapped. "She has just recovered!"
He rolled his eyes. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Grace murmured, taking her seat carefully.
The king leaned forward, his deep voice warm yet commanding. "How are you feeling, my dear?"
"I'm fine, Father. Thank you."
The queen frowned slightly. "Renee mentioned you were asking… unusual questions. About your identity. About the kingdom."
Grace forced a small laugh. "I was just confused from the headache."
"You will see the royal physician," the king declared firmly. "It is already decided."
Grace's stomach twisted.
I can't let them find out who I really am, she thought desperately.
Half an hour later, an elderly physician examined her. After a series of tests and quiet murmurs, he addressed the royal family.
"She is physically well. However, it appears she is experiencing partial and temporary memory loss due to the fall."
The queen clasped her hands. "Will her memories return?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. With rest and normal activities, they should gradually come back."
Relief washed over the room.
Except for Grace.
Memory loss.
So that's what they think.
As the physician left, Rowan smirked slightly.
"So I guess you won't be coming to class today."
Grace blinked at him. "What class?"
The smirk widened.
And in that moment, Grace realized something terrifying—
If she was truly a princess with the blood of a dragon, then losing her memory might be the least of her problems.