THE THRONE OF SWAPPED DESIRE: CHAPTER 3

PHNXpiyush | Omegatglul

START



The crisp winter air bit at my exposed skin as I stood frozen in the snowy courtyard of Winterfell. Under the pale, glittering moonlight, the black stone walls looked hauntingly beautiful, but all I could focus on was the absolute chaos of my situation.



Standing right in front of me was Jaime Lannister—the arrogant, golden-haired knight—who had just tried to kiss me. Except it wasn't Jaime. It was Aryan, my gymbro college roommate, trapped in a ridiculously buff body while I was stuck in the frame of a stunning, drop-dead gorgeous queen.



Aryan was frantically trying to calm me down, his hands waving in the air as he pitched his solution to this timeline alteration.



"Look, we just need to meet tomorrow morning at the old, abandoned tower at the edge of the castle," he had urged, his voice a low, tense whisper. "We just stand in the room and talk, the kid climbs up, we get caught having a conversation, and the first episode gets fixed. That’s how we get free from this body."



Just then, a handmaiden had stepped out into the cold, offering her services to the Queen—aka me. Lady Catelyn was worried I was sick, and the maid wanted to know if I needed a doctor. Aryan had quickly cut in, using his commanding knight’s voice to cover for me, telling her the Queen was just exhausted and needed to be taken to her chambers.



I gave Aryan a nervous, warning nod, my heart hammering against my ribs as I reluctantly turned to follow the handmaiden.



The moment I stepped forward, I realized what a nightmare this dress was. The heavy, gold-and-olive skirt was dragging into the fresh snow, soaking up the freezing moisture and growing heavier by the second. I looked ahead and saw the handmaiden effortlessly managing her own clothing, holding the hem of her gown with one hand while guiding the way with a flickering torch in the other.



Emulating her, I quickly reached down with both of my hands, clutching the thick layers of velvet and silk to lift the gown slightly off the frozen ground. My arms felt weak, and managing the sheer bulk of the fabric while trying to walk in delicate, flat shoes felt like a high-stakes balancing act.



Jeez! Why the fuck would women even wear such …