I am a man.
So, uh, at least I was a man.
Puberty had already come when I was living with Ayla, and I had seriously pondered the differences between my body and hers in my own way.
Well, I quickly came to a conclusion.
I spent my childhood in a brothel, and although I didn’t directly engage in such things myself, I had seen and heard enough.
So, I knew how adults made children.
I don’t think I paid much attention to it when I was younger.
Perhaps it was because I was in no position to actually feel anything about it.
But after Ayla saved me and we began crossing swords together, I couldn’t help but become aware of it.
Usually, girls reach puberty earlier than boys.
When I met Ayla, I was just on the verge of reaching double digits in age, while Ayla had already passed that point, and her body was slowly showing the characteristics of a woman.
I had already started liking Ayla as the opposite sex a little after that time, but I probably didn’t start feeling her ‘sex’ in earnest until a few years later.
“You’ve gotten pretty tall.”
Ayla noticed it.
Of course, she would.
When we first met, Ayla was taller than me.
I always had to look up at her.
At some point, when our height difference had almost disappeared, Ayla widened her eyes and said to me,
“But I’m still taller now.”
Maybe it was a sense of competitiveness because she was still young.
“Yes, Ayla, you are taller.”
I answered with a wry smile.
Ayla was growing, and so was I.
“Hey, can you stop growing?”
“I don’t think that’s possible. It’s not something I can control.”
“Ah, you used to be just cute when you were younger. Now my feelings are complicated.”
The Ayla of that time said things that the Ayla of today would find hard to imagine.
“These days, you’re getting stronger too. I feel like the day will come when you’ll beat me.”
At least in swordsmanship, that was true.
But still, I could never surpass Ayla.
At some point, whenever I looked at Ayla, childhood memories came flooding back.
Someday in the distant future, though unlikely, if we were to get married, would we do ‘that’ too?
Back then, I thought such an act was disgusting and dirty.
But at some point, it became something I wanted to do with Ayla.
Of course, I was disgusted with myself for thinking that way.
To me, Ayla was someone I wanted to be with, but at the same time, she was an ideal figure above me.
I could even say she was a subject of worship.
The first light I ever saw in my dark life.
Even if someone accused me of being blinded by that light, I wouldn’t have an excuse.
“Let’s skip sword training today.”
Ayla would sometimes say that and drag me away.
Our sword master taught us properly during training, but he wasn’t the type to scold us for skipping.
Ayla would say that when she got bored of training, especially after losing to me several times in a row.
Although she didn’t win often, there were times when she collapsed unusually weakly.
I had a vague idea of why, but I had the sense not to say it out loud.
“Look over there. That place looks new. Should we check it out?”
“Ayla.”
“Hmm? What?”
“Nothing.”
Ayla never hesitated to touch me.
I had no way of knowing if she saw me as the opposite sex unless I asked, but in those situations, I was the only one who felt troubled.
At least, holding my hand and running through the marketplace was nothing.
During sword training, I was too focused to think about such things.
But the problem was at night or in the morning.
If I saw Ayla in my dreams, both night and morning became difficult.
Especially when Ayla barged into my room in the morning to wake me up, it was even more problematic.
I don’t think she ever caught me, but maybe she pretended not to notice.
Considering that she never distanced herself from me until the very end, she probably didn’t know.
Anyway, that’s how it was.
Despite everything, I was well aware of my gender.
I was a man.
Even now, after ending up in a woman’s body, I don’t think that awareness has completely changed.
So—
No, no matter what, wearing this outfit in front of the Empress is a bit much.
Ayla might not know, but the Empress knows my original form.
The witch and the shadow do as well.
I can’t even begin to imagine what expressions they’ll make when they see me like this.
Given the circumstances, I have to move quickly, but I wish I didn’t have to look like this while doing so.
“Ayla.”
Luna called Ayla.
Her expression was unusually serious.
Luna was usually expressionless, but there was often a subtle amusement in her eyes.
Now, however, she looked utterly serious.
Seeing Ayla in such an outfit with such a serious face made the situation unintentionally funny.
Even though I knew it wasn’t a situation to laugh about.
Because that ‘seriousness’ overlapped with the current situation, making it seem all the more desperate.
That Luna—
Who didn’t even look that desperate when she was being strangled by Choke—
Now had such a desperate expression.
If I were to ‘command’ her in this situation, what would happen?
Ayla found herself imagining something inappropriate for the situation.
Would she start crying?
Would she obey the command with teary eyes, unable to resist?
Or would she resist even while being strangled?
Why was she thinking like this?
Ayla suddenly wondered.
And soon, she realized the reason.
It was because of those eyes.
The man who had the same eyes always defeated Ayla with ease.
Unlike in childhood, his hardened body easily pushed away Ayla’s sword and effortlessly knocked her to the ground.
The most infuriating part was that even after winning, his eyes showed no joy or excitement.
If he had at least looked at her with pity, she might have accepted it, but instead, there was truly no emotion at all.
And yet, when he reached out his hand and asked, “Ayla, are you okay?”
His eyes were genuinely filled with concern for her.
That made it even more frustrating and infuriating.
But getting angry in such situations was unsightly.
So Ayla always feigned composure and took his hand as if nothing was wrong.
Ayla knew.
She knew that whenever he touched her, he was conscious of it.
Having matured earlier than boys, she understood what those feelings meant.
Many men had looked at Ayla with infatuation before, but for some reason, she felt a strange sense of pride in his reaction.
It felt—somehow, like she was ‘winning.’
No, the emotion beneath that was much deeper.
Ayla simply hadn’t realized it yet, or perhaps she refused to acknowledge it.
So, she covered up that pride with the simple feeling of ‘happiness from winning.’
A few days each month, she would skip training because of body aches.
And she would grab his hand and drag him into the marketplace for no reason.
Walking side by side while holding hands was too embarrassing, so instead, she would find an excuse to tug him along somewhere.
That alone was enough.
He was terrible at hiding his emotions, after all.
Once outside the village, she would sometimes hook her arm around his, or lean against him, or massage his muscles under the pretense of helping him relax.
She made sure to keep a line, but only just.
“I still regret barging into your room in the morning.
Back then, even Ayla was so embarrassed she nearly fainted.”
But Luna’s eyes—
never once showed that kind of ‘discomfort.’
Where had she trained herself so thoroughly?
Her amethyst eyes merely sparkled like a perfectly polished gem.
That irritated Ayla.
“What should we do?”
Still, she had no intention of facing the Empress in this outfit.
No matter what, there was still the matter of dignity.
But at the same time, she wanted to enjoy this moment a little longer.
Not just recalling his troubled expression, but seeing those desperate eyes he had never shown before— just a little more—
“Ayla—”
Luna began to speak.
Knock, knock.
A sudden, urgent knocking echoed from the door.
“What is it? Guests should be directed to the parlor—”
She opened the door herself and asked, only to see Helena wearing a slightly troubled expression.
Helena.
The one who usually smiled much more than Luna.
Ayla sensed something was wrong.
“She is here.”
“A guest? You mean, right outside this door?”
“Yes. We tried to stop her, but…”
The guest had not revealed their identity, but it was undoubtedly the ‘Empress.’
So, of course, the attendants could not stop her recklessly.
Especially since she was also an acquaintance of Luna.
If it had been a king Ayla had never met, they might have dared to block the way.
“Hmm.”
A voice she had never heard before came from behind the door.
A dignified voice, as if no battle occurring right in front of her could ever shake her.
“Has something troublesome happened—
Or rather, is something already happening?”
A voice that made using formal speech sound awkward.
Luna remained silent.
For some reason, Ayla felt a prickling sensation on the back of her head.