Knock, knock.

"Time to get up, Little Princess," Liora called softly.

"We have to get you ready for the day," added Sylara.

"Your mother has important company, so she won't be able to attend to you," Liora continued as they moved around the room.

"It’s the Elven envoy, I believe," Sylara noted.

As Liora approached the princess's bed, she carefully lifted the fluffy blanket, only to freeze in place, her eyes wide with shock. She stumbled backward, falling to the floor.

“Be careful, Liora! You almost knocked me—Whaaa…?!” Sylara’s voice trailed off in astonishment.

Both maids stared at the princess, then exchanged panicked glances.

"We can’t disturb the Queen today. She said this meeting was critical," Sylara muttered.

"Then what should we do?" Liora asked, her voice rising with urgency.

"First, cover her back up!" Sylara whispered as she quickly pulled the blanket back over the princess. "We have to tell her some how."

"But how?" Liora asked, panic creeping in.

"I know what," Sylara said, determined. She tapped the brooch on her uniform twice.

"Good morning, Sylara. "Is there a problem?" came the voice of the head maid through the brooch.

"Yes, we need to speak with the handmaiden immediately," Sylara responded, trying to keep her voice steady.

"May I ask the reason for this urgency?" the head maid asked, concern creeping into her tone.

"It’s about the princess. We can’t disturb the Queen because she’s handling the elven envoy, but this... this is urgent," Sylara explained.

"I understand. I’ll contact the handmaiden right away."

"When did we have something like that?" Liora asked.

"Didn’t you read the handbook when you started this job?" Sylara replied, shaking her head in disappointment.

"There was a handbook?"

A firm knock echoed at the door.

"What seems to be the problem?" the handmaiden asked as she entered.

"You’ve taken me from my post. What if the Queen calls for me and I’m not there?"

"I promise you, this is more important," Sylara said, her voice trembling.

"Alright, calm down, child." The handmaiden placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Let’s see what’s going on."

Liora pointed shakily to the princess, still hidden beneath the blanket.

"Aww, I see. You know little dragons love their sleep. She’s probably just having trouble waking UP!!."

As the handmaiden pulled back the blanket, her eyes widened. She quickly replaced the covers.

"I’ll get the Queen also. You two, come with me."

Tap, tap, tap.

"I know I told everyone that the elven envoy would be here today; what could be so important?" She said to herself

I am so sorry to cut in the middle of our lovely conversation; would you please excuse me?

Of course your Majesty

As she opened the door, there stood her handmaiden and two trembling maids behind her.

I do apologize for disturbing you, but it is most important that you attend to the princess right away, your majesty, as the handmaiden bowed with a sense of urgency coming from her voice.

The queen looked back at her visitors,

"Please enjoy the tea and hors d'oeuvres; I must attend to my daughter."

I understand your majesty; I also have a child; they can be a handful, he said with a smile on his face. Maybe one day you and your family can come visit the elven kingdom; it would be our honor to have you.

That would be wonderful, the queen said as she made her way out the door. Please excuse me.

"You’ll have to see it for yourself, Your Majesty," the handmaiden said with a slight bow, the urgency clear in her voice.

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The Queen sighed heavily. "I wonder what kind of surprise you have for me this time, little one," she muttered as they approached the princess’s room.

When they entered, the Queen saw her daughter still cocooned in the blanket. She stepped forward and slowly pulled it back—then stumbled, wide-eyed, reeling from the shock. The handmaiden caught her before she could fall further.

The Queen turned to the maids, giving them a nod. "Thank you. I will never question you three again."

"It is our pleasure, Your Majesty," the maids said in unison, bowing low.

The Queen gently wrapped her little one in the blanket and lifted her onto her hip.

"Come on, little one, time to rise and shine," she said softly, tickling her daughter's nose.

"Mommy, I’m still sleepy," came the soft murmur from the princess.

The queen’s legs gave way as she fell to her knees, her eyes brimming with tears. The three maids rushed forward to steady her.

"Did she... did she just say ‘Mommy’?" The Queen whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes, hearing the word.

"It’s okay, little one. You can sleep as much as you want," she whispered lovingly.

Just then, the king entered the room, his expression concerned. "I heard you were here, my love. The envoy seemed worried, so I came to check on—" His words caught in his throat as he spotted their child. "Is that... is that our daughter?"

The queen nodded, tears still glistening in her eyes. "Yes… yes, she is."

The king rushed over, sitting beside her on the floor. "May I?" he asked, opening his arms.

"What kind of question is that? Of course, you can. You’re her father," the Queen said, smiling through her tears as she gently placed the little princess in his arms.

"She’s beautiful," the king whispered, cradling her. He poked her tiny feet, unable to resist.

"PAPA, that tickles!" the little one giggled, wiggling her toes.

The King’s eyes met his wife’s, his face breaking into the biggest smile she had ever seen, his emotions barely contained.

"That’s right, little one," he whispered. "It’s Papa."

________________________________________________________________________________________________

[Luna Pov]

I tried to stretch, but something was wrapped around me tightly. I tried opening my eyes, but I was just so tired. Meeting Silvia must have drained my mana a bit. Honestly, I didn’t care—whatever it took to see her again, I would do it, even if it drained me completely.

But why were there so many voices this morning?

I finally managed to pry my eyes open, and for some reason, both of my parents, the handmaiden, and... Thing 1 and Thing 2 were all staring at me.

"Umm, good morning," I mumbled. Then, suddenly realizing something, I frantically moved my hands from whatever was wrapped around me and slapped them over my mouth.

Did I just talk?! I said to myself..

Wait... HANDS?! I glanced at them, seeing my fingers flex in front of me. Everyone around me stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. I turned to look at the mirror across the room, and there I was... human—sort of.

My long silver hair, streaked with red, reached down to my ankles. The tiny nubs I once had on my head were now white with blue tips, extending about two inches. My skin was a pale, milky white, so soft it looked like you could poke a finger right through it. My tail was still silver, but instead of fur along the center, it faded into a deep red at the tip. And my feet and hands had sharp red nails. Then I noticed my eyes. One was bright yellow, the other a deep blue, and that star-shaped pupil had returned.

I couldn’t believe it. Just when I was complaining about nothing changing, this happened!

As I stood there, admiring myself in the mirror, I suddenly realized—I had gotten up from my father’s grasp and was standing on my own, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

There was one final detail: Why am I so tall for a four-year-old?

Wrapping the blanket tighter around myself, I tried to walk toward my mother, who was still sitting on the floor. I took a step—and promptly plopped to the ground.

So, I had no problem walking as a dragon, but as a human... this is where I fall, huh? I mumbled to myself.

Luckily, my mother caught me before I hit the floor.

"It’s alright, little one," she said with a huge smile, stroking my hair. "It takes time to learn to walk. But first, let’s get you properly dressed. We’ll need to find something for you to wear—you’re actually quite tall for a four-year-old!"

"If I may, Your Majesty..." the handmaiden chimed in.

With a snap of her fingers, a pink frilly dress appeared, along with white shoes with bows on top that looked like loafers from my old world and white tights. As I was mentally worrying about underwear, I noticed everyone looking at my father.

"Out," my mother commanded, giving him a stern look.

The maids quickly escorted him out of the room.

"Fine, I’ll leave," he muttered, turning his head with a huff before exiting and closing the door.

A few seconds later, we all burst out laughing in unison.

"Alright, little one, let’s get you dressed."

After a few adjustments, there I was, in a frilly pink dress that stopped at my knees, with white tights underneath. The shoes were undeniably cute. My earlier worries about undies disappeared as the handmaiden had provided them behind the dress—a cute pair with a little face on the butt and a bow in the front. My mother worked on my hair, which, when I say there was a lot of it... there was a lot. She managed to put it into two pigtails, each with a pink bow, though the length still reached a few inches from my ankles.

Looking in the mirror, I finally understood what my mother meant—I really was tall for a four-year-old. I wasn’t sure what the average height for children in this world was, but I stood as tall as an eight-year-old from my old world. I didn’t mind, though. I’d always wanted to be tall, and with both my parents being towering figures—my father looked well over eight feet and my mother just shy of his shoulder—it made sense.

"Isn’t she just adorable?" My mother cooed with love in her voice.

The maids just stood there, eyes practically sparkling. If their expressions could glitter, they would.

"Alright, let’s go show your father."

My mother scooped me up, placing me on her hip, and I nearly forgot that I couldn’t walk yet. As we walked down the hall, she put me down, confusing me at first—until I saw my father kneeling, his arms open, beckoning me forward.

"Go on, little Luna. I know you can do it," my mother encouraged.

I took a deep breath. Okay, my first step was a stumble, but this is a must—no ifs, ands, or buts.

Gathering my courage, I stepped forward. One step at a time. Another step. Good. Now, repeat. My ankle wobbled slightly, but I regained my balance.

"That’s it, my girl! You can do it!" My father cheered.

His face lit up, and I didn’t want to let him down. I clenched my fists, took another deep breath, and stepped forward again. Step. Step.

"Okay, I’ve got this."

But then I stopped. No. I don’t want to walk. I wanted to run.

I kneeled down, placing my hands on the floor. I looked up at my father. His expression shifted from confusion to pure excitement.

"That’s my girl!" he shouted, grinning. "Come!"

I kicked off from the ground, my feet moving swiftly one after the other. A wide smile spread across my face as I bolted forward, my long hair flowing behind me.

"PAPA!" I cried as I leaped into the air, landing directly in his arms.

He caught me, spinning me around as we both laughed.

"Good, good!" he said, still grinning. "Why walk when you can run?"

He hugged me tightly as my mother appeared beside us.

"I’m so proud of you," she whispered.

"We all are," added the handmaiden, her voice filled with adoration.

"And now," my father said, his grin widening, "it’s time to learn to fly."

"Huh...?" I blinked in confusion.