A Quest To Woo the Prince

Eleanor had no idea how much time had passed since her life had been turned upside down. She still couldn't believe that she had a new life now—a life that she never thought she would have in her past life. She doesn't scrub floors now. Or take commands from her to a rich family that she served. Now, servants would do anything she asked with one command. 

But as she sat at a vanity in a grand room, Eleanor still couldn't familiarize the face she was seeing. Yes, it was still her face. But this was different. Her skin was flawless; it was pale with a soft glow, and her hair—it was brown, messy, and tangled—but now it was a cascade of golden curls. This person wasn't her, but it was her. They just resembled. The servant Eleanor was now gone, it was the Lady Eleanor Hawthorne that was born in novelty. 

"Ding!" 

The voice in her head startled her as always. She took a deep breath and waited for its words. 

"Good morning, Lady Eleanor! Your first quest awaits. Are you ready to begin?"

Eleanor sighed, her hand trembling as she set down the delicate silver brush she had been holding. The quest. She had almost forgotten. Almost.

"What's the quest?" she muttered.

"First quest: Attend the royal ball tonight and make an impression on Prince Adrian."

Eleanor's mouth opened. "What? I've never been to a ball!" she groaned. The frustration clutched in her head. And she also needs to meet Prince Adrian and make an impression. How can she even do that? Plus, she might be a new person, but she still doesn't know how to act as a lady of high society!

"Don't worry! You've been given the best education that money can buy. You'll look gorgeous in your new gown, and you'll be a hit with everyone," the voice reassured her. But it wasn't enough for Eleanor. 

"What if I mess it all up? I live my whole life as a servant."

"You won't mess it up. Just be your charming self," the System replied as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Except that Eleanor had no idea what "charming" meant in this context, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. The knock on the door came just as she was about to protest again.

"Lady Eleanor," a voice called from outside the door, "Your parents request your presence in the drawing room."

She froze. Her parents.

In this life, she had parents—a Duke and a Duchess, no less. Unlike her previous life, she was orphaned. That was why she was forced to live as a servant. This life was the life she had once dreamed of as a little girl, the life of a noblewoman.

Eleanor stood slowly, her legs were shaking. Her reflection in the mirror seemed to watch her, waiting for her to make a move. She smoothed the fine satin of the gown she was wearing, a delicate shade of lavender that shimmered in the light. She hadn't even known such fabrics existed in her old life. She had everything now. 

Eleanor took a deep breath as she walked to the door and opened it. 

The hallway outside was lined with tapestries, intricate rugs, and vases filled with flowers that smelled too sweet to be real. She followed a servant, a girl who looked younger than her, down the corridor to the drawing room.

The Duke and Duchess were already seated, both radiating an air of dignity that made Eleanor's stomach churn. They were older than she had imagined they would be—gray hair at the temples, stern faces, but eyes that softened when they looked at her. Eleanor was surprised a bit because they felt familiar to her. Too familiar that she couldn't wonder where she saw them. 

"Ah, Eleanor, there you are," the Duke said, rising from his seat. His voice was deep and authoritative, yet there was a warmth in it that surprised her. "We've been waiting for you."

She gave a slight curtsy, her mind still spinning from the shock of it all. "My lord, my lady," she greeted politely, slightly bowing. 

"Please, sit," the Duchess said with a smile that was both welcoming and appraising. She had long, dark hair and sharp features, and her dress a deep red that made her seem regal. "I trust you've found everything to your liking?"

Eleanor nodded quickly, trying to act as though she were perfectly comfortable in this new world of hers. 

"We've heard good things about you, Eleanor," the Duke continued, settling back into his chair. "Your tutors have praised your progress. You'll do well tonight at the ball, I'm sure."

The ball. Of course. Eleanor had forgotten. The pressure of meeting the prince—the beggar she had saved, now a prince, a royal figure—was already starting to overwhelm her. How could she impress him? How could she make a prince, a man of power, see her as anything more than the daughter of a powerful duke?

"Thank you, Father," Eleanor said softly, trying to ignore the swirl of thoughts in her mind.

The Duchess smiled again. "You'll be wearing the gown we selected for you tonight, I assume? We wouldn't want you to look out of place."

Eleanor nodded again. She wasn't sure what to say, so she simply stayed quiet.

"We expect you to make a good impression," the Duke added, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The royal family is watching, especially the prince. This could be an important opportunity for our family."

Eleanor's heart sank. So, this was how it was going to be, then. She was nothing more than a pawn in a political game.

"Yes, Father," she said, swallowing her nerves. "I understand."

Her parents nodded approvingly, and the Duchess gave her a soft, almost indulgent smile. "Good. You are our pride, Eleanor. Don't forget that tonight."

Eleanor smiled a bit. "I'll remember it, Mother." 

"By the way, how was your health?"

Eleanor looked at her father. He was a bit worried as he stared at her. Eleanor was confused but she just thought that he was just really worried for her. 

"Yes, we heard that you became sick," the Duchess seconds. 

"I'm… perfectly fine, parents! Don't worry," Eleanor smiled at them. The two then looked assured. 

Eleanor left the drawing room soon after, the weight of her parents' expectations hanging heavy on her shoulders. Her first quest, her first real test in this new life, was to attend a ball and catch the attention of a prince. Simple enough, right? But for a woman who had never been in a ball, it was not simple. Much as making a man fall in love with her. Especially a prince. Eleanor felt her head aching because of the thought. But what can she do? She doesn't have any choice. 

Later that evening, Eleanor stood in front of a full-length mirror, looking at herself one last time before heading to the ball. She hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. The lavender gown shimmered as she moved, and her golden curls framed her face perfectly. The reflection was polished, poised, and beautiful—nothing like the servant girl she had been before.

She was still the same Eleanor, but this wasn't her. Or, at least she thought she was.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts.

"Lady Eleanor," a servant called from outside. "The carriage awaits."

With one last glance at her reflection, Eleanor straightened her back and nodded. She could do this.

The royal palace was breathtaking. Even from the outside, it was a testament to wealth and power, its spires stretching high into the sky, its gardens manicured and pristine. Eleanor was ushered through the grand halls, the sound of music growing louder as they approached the ballroom.

The moment she stepped into the room, she was hit with a wave of opulence. The chandeliers overhead seemed to sparkle with a thousand stars, and the scent of expensive perfumes and flowers filled the air. Nobles, some familiar and some not, mingled in their finest attire, their laughter and chatter filling the space.

Eleanor had always dreamed of such a life, but now that she was here, it felt more like a nightmare. She didn't belong here. She wasn't sure how to act or to navigate this world of high society.

"Lady Eleanor, it's so good to see you," a voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to find a woman smiling at her, her face painted with politeness.

"Lady Rosamund," Eleanor replied with a tight smile. Though she didn't recognize the woman, she just knew that she was supposed to know the woman. Her name came out of her mouth without her thinking.

The night went on, and Eleanor did her best to socialize, to make small talk with people she didn't know, pretending to enjoy herself. But all the while, she was on edge, her thoughts constantly drifting back to the prince.

And then, finally, the moment came.

The doors to the ballroom swung open, and the room fell silent.

There, standing in the doorway was Prince Adrian.

The air around him seemed to crackle with energy, his presence commanding attention without him lifting a finger. He was tall, regal, and impossibly handsome. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his blue eyes scanned the room with a sharpness that seemed to pierce through everyone.

Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. She had seen him before, of course—she had saved him, after all—but this man, this prince, was nothing like the beggar she had known. There was something cold, something distant in his gaze, and Eleanor felt a strange, unsettling sense of familiarity.

As their eyes met across the crowded ballroom, a shiver ran down her spine.