I'm Not Me

Ren had always been a night owl, the kind who thrived on quiet apartments and late-night reading binges. Tonight was no different. His desk was strewn with snacks and textbooks, but the real centerpiece was a tattered historical novel about the Kingdom of Valoria, a place where princes, scheming nobles, and forbidden romances ruled the land.

“Okay, just one more chapter,” Ren muttered, yawning, already half-dozing. His fingers traced the illustrations of a brooding prince—Prince Kael—who apparently was known for his icy demeanor and sharp wit.

Thunder rumbled. He didn’t care. He was too deep in Kael’s world, imagining court intrigues, secret letters, and—he had to admit—how ridiculously attractive the prince looked in all those old sketches.

Then came the lightning.

It smashed through the night sky like a diva’s entrance at a royal ball. Ren blinked. And then… everything went white.

When Ren opened his eyes again, he wasn’t in his cramped, familiar apartment. No. He was lying on an opulent four-poster bed with silk sheets that smelled faintly of lavender and… something metallic? He sat up—and froze.

“What the…?”

He raised a hand. Long, slender, pale. His reflection caught in the gilded mirror, and Ren nearly screamed.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no no.”

The face staring back at him was not his own. Perfectly sculpted, sharp features, icy blue eyes that looked like they could pierce through steel. And that hair… white-blond, meticulously styled, probably took three hours to arrange each morning.

Ren scrambled out of the bed, panic hitting him like a truck. His legs—long, toned, definitely not his usual stubby college legs—moved stiffly. Every movement felt foreign, like learning to walk again.

He bolted to the window. Outside… massive stone walls, a sprawling courtyard, soldiers marching in formation.

“…I… I’m… a prince?” Ren whispered, his voice catching somewhere between awe and terror.

A knock at the door.

“Yes, Prince Kael?” a calm, soft voice called.

Ren’s stomach flipped. He froze. That voice… it was too gentle for this world, too grounded.

The door opened, revealing a young man in scholar’s robes, holding a stack of scrolls. His dark hair framed a serene face, and those deep, warm eyes… oh no. Ren’s brain immediately short-circuited.

“Good morning, Your Highness. I have your lessons prepared,” the man said politely, bowing slightly.

Ren’s brain panicked. “Lessons? I… uh… yes… lessons. Of course.” He stumbled over the words, entirely forgetting how a prince was supposed to speak.

The scholar’s brow furrowed. “You seem… different today, Kael. Are you unwell?”

Ren gulped. “Different? No! I mean… maybe… I’m fine?” Oh god, why was talking so hard?!

The scholar—Ren now thought of him as dangerously cute Lior—smiled faintly. “Very well. Shall we begin, then?”

The lessons were… impossible. Algebra? No. History? Already knew it all because Ren had read it in his textbooks. Sword techniques? Hilarious. Ren’s reflexes were laughably bad, and he nearly tripped over the prince’s own boots more than once. Lior’s eyes, calm and observant, seemed to notice every stumble.

“You’re… unusually clumsy today,” Lior said softly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

Ren cursed silently. Am I going to die from embarrassment before anything else?

By midday, Ren had survived a minor tea ceremony disaster, a near-diplomatic faux pas where he almost insulted a visiting noble, and a wardrobe malfunction involving a cape and a chandelier.

Lior… had been there the whole time, calmly rescuing him with a hand on his shoulder or a whispered hint, all while smiling faintly like he was secretly enjoying watching Ren flail.

At some point, Ren realized he was… staring. Way too long. Lior’s hair caught the sunlight just right. Those eyes… why were they so distracting? No, no, focus. He’s a prince. You’re in his body. Don’t get… distracted.

Easier said than done.

Evening came, and Ren collapsed onto the prince’s bed, exhausted. His mind raced. This isn’t real. This is a dream. I’ll wake up any second. He pinched himself. Pain. Real.

A soft knock. “Your Highness, dinner is served,” Lior’s voice called.

Ren groaned. “I swear, if you judge me for being bad at everything today, I will—” He stopped mid-threat. Lior was standing there, arms crossed, not a hint of judgment on his face. Just… calm.

Ren wanted to cry. Or faint. Or maybe just run away screaming.

Instead, he muttered, “Okay… dinner. I’ll… try.”

Lior’s smile was subtle, almost imperceptible. “Good. I’ll be waiting in the dining hall.”

That night, lying in the prince’s bed, Ren stared at the ceiling. This was insane. Absolutely, utterly insane. But somewhere deep inside… he felt something he hadn’t expected.

Curiosity. Excitement. And yes… a flutter of something dangerous every time he thought of Lior.

This is going to be… interesting .

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***