The Crown Prince's Forbidden Chef

After the interrogation at the first gate, the guards usher me inside towards the palace second gates.

The second palace gates loomed before me like a fortress, towering higher than the first gates with iron-bound doors and guards who looked ready to decapitate anyone who dared step out of line. My stomach rumbled...not from hunger this time, but from a strange mixture of fear and anticipation.

I tightened the hood of my cloak and stepped forward feeling nervous. The guards snapped to attention immediately, hands on their weapons. My pulse jumped, but I held my head high. I had to look like a man, strong, capable, and fearless.

"Halt," one of them barked. His eyes swept me up and down, scanning every inch of my appearance. "Who are you? State your business."

"I... I am Daniel Haston," I said, trying to steady my voice. "Here to apply for the palace chef position."

The guards exchanged a glance. One of them grunted and ran a hand over my tunic, for a second I thought he was checking for the telltale curves of a female body. My heart thudded so violently I thought they'd hear me.

After what felt like an eternity, the guard stepped back. "Very well boy, as you have claimed you may now proceed inside."

I exhaled sharply, feeling the first small relief of the day.

Inside, the palace was breathtaking. Gardens stretched endlessly, fountains splashed in elegant patterns, and towering structures rose toward the sky, decorated with gold and intricate carvings. My eyes widened, drinking in every detail, every flourish. I'd read about grand palaces in history books, seen them on television, but this...this was alive. Real and Intimidating.

I walked through the corridors, trying to ignore the awe that threatened to unbalance me. Every step brought me closer to my goal...the kitchen, the test, and the chance to survive.

Finally, I reached the head steward's office. The man inside was older, his robes looked perfectly neat, his eyes sharp and calculating. He looked me up and down, his suspicion imprinted into every line of his face.

"And you claim to be a chef?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Yes," I replied, holding my head high. "I can cook. I can manage a kitchen. I can work under pressure."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Have you heard about the rumors?"

I swallowed. "I am aware. But I am also aware that your kitchen needs someone competent. And I am willing to prove myself."

For a long moment, he studied me, with his gaze almost like a predator, as if he were trying to see through the boy I claimed to be. Finally, he sighed. "Very well. Follow me. The royal kitchen awaits. You will cook for the prince himself as a test."

I felt my knees go weak, but I straightened immediately. A chance to prove myself and survive the test.

As I followed the steward through towering doors, my eyes drank in the kitchen. It has huge cauldrons, roaring fires, stacks of ingredients, gleaming knives, and dozens of men working with every detail and carefulness. The heat was intense, and the smell of meats, herbs, bread, different spices...was overwhelming. But something deep inside me lit up.

I belonged here. I could do this.

The steward placed a hand on my shoulder. "Do not fail. The Crown Prince has little patience for incompetence. Now Begin."

I nodded... my hands already itching to work, my mind calculating, planning, and tasting in my imagination.

For the first time in this strange, frightening world, I felt power in my own hands again.

I am Daniel Haston, and I was about to step into the most dangerous kitchen in the empire, while putting my existence in this ancient world into risk. "I have to survive this."