I was Born as The King’s Daughter

The party was not like anything I had experienced in my previous life. It was very lavish and the golden chandelier cast brilliant twinkles in all directions while the marble floors reflected its light magnificently. Crystal tables were topped with mouthwatering dishes. An orchestra filled the hall with lively, sonorous notes.
I looked over at the males, the only ones who could enjoy the scrumptious meal. They were all very handsome, so I couldn’t complain about my view, but that was the extent of enjoyment allowed to the girls. A gla.s.s part.i.tion separated the girls from the main hall, and thus we were relegated to the outskirts where we were to engage in quiet conversation. So, this was the party culture in this world.
Is this what I spent three hours getting ready for? I had not expected much, but still it was unreasonable to dress, undress and redress a four-year-old like a living doll for three hours only to make her sit still for two or more hours. Ridiculous.
A girl who looked about fourteen headed over and addressed me: “How well-behaved you are. I heard rumors that you are mature for a four-year-old. I’m quite impressed.” I guessed that she was a baron’s daughter. I’d learned the hard way in my past life that girls were natural rivals. I was still a toddler though, so maybe there was no need to be wary of her. I just smiled.
Her name is Emilia. She introduced herself by her official t.i.tle, and I learned she was the seventh daughter of Baron Charles. I was struck again by the arbitrariness of this world. The kingdom was called Goryeo, after the historic Korean kingdom, but the kingdom n.o.bility were called dukes, marquises, and viscounts, like European n.o.bility. Some had Korean names while others had Western ones. I wouldn’t have been surprised to encounter someone with a j.a.panese or Chinese name, since I’d seen them in history books.
“I heard you started writing when you were one. Is that true?” she asked.
“Writing?” I said.
Just play dumb, I told myself. I was single-minded in my desire to see Jinsu. Where are you?

She repeated, “Yes, you started writing when you were only a year old.”
I grunted. I bit my lip in feigned embarra.s.sment, giving my best impression of a foolish little girl. I hoped that would make her lose interest. The only thing I could think of was finding Jinsu.
Unlike the Jinsu of my previous life in Korea, the Jinsu here was clearly a cut above the rest. I reminded myself that I only thought he was handsome because of the new environment. Objectively speaking, he would have been considered quite average in Korea. But in this world, he had a certain je ne sais quoi that I found attractive. I was smitten.
What a reversal! I marveled to myself, remembering how the Jinsu of my former life had loved me from afar for many years. When we were finally a couple, he never tired of telling me how much he adored me while I remained aloof, never opening myself to him.
Snap out of it–that’s not your Jinsu. Although I knew better, I felt if only I were on the other side of this gla.s.s wall, I could be with him. If I could just speak him, it would be the same as before. He would welcome me home, “Oh, you’re back?”
I told myself, It’s not him! I could barely stop myself from crossing the part.i.tion and saying, “Sorry I’m late. Let’s eat now.” I tried to calm down. I wanted to run to him and confess that I loved him.
“ Princess Sanghee?” someone was addressing me. Emilia asked, “Are you feeling well?”
“I’m great!” I showed off my tiny biceps.
At that moment, I saw someone approach Jinsu. It was another handsome guy, about the same height as Jinsu. His skin was milky fair. He was quite striking, sipping tea with his legs crossed. It was like a scene straight out of a magazine photo spread.
There was something quite odd about him though. The way his gaze seemed to follow Jinsu and how he kept pushing his long locks of hair behind his ears while lightly licking his lips.
He padded after Jinsu and wrapped his arm around him.
They’re just friends. Maybe physical affection between men is accepted here. The boy was now whispering into Jinsu’s ear. It was all very odd. Did he really need to whisper? What could be so important? I felt uneasy.
Jinsu stood up now. He was smiling. The other boy smiled too and then embraced him warmly. Not a very manly gesture, but it was quite common here.
His words again came to me suddenly: “But I love someone else,” The audacity. Cultural relativism, my foot! I felt uneasy again.
“Of course I’m still going to marry you. It’s already been arranged. But don’t expect me to love you.”
Jinsu was smiling again. The other boy smiled too.
I turned to Emilia and said, “Emilia, do you know my fiancé?”
Emilia replied, “Certainly. He’s the pride of our kingdom. He’s been admitted to the Imperial Inst.i.tute of Magic at the top of his cla.s.s.”
I asked, “But who is that boy next to him?”
Her smiling face darkened. Surely a little girl like you isn’t jealous? Reading her thoughts, shame colored my face, for it was the truth.