How I found out transmigration was a thing.

Chapter 7 - You are No Prince Charming.

My legs are shaking badly and my lower back is starting to ache. Too much standing, too much excitement for one day.  Adam is on one side holding me up and Joan is on the other. My godmothers are working quickly to dress me and make me presentable to... ahem...my brother, slash guarding, the Crown Prince.  As I think those words I want to laugh, but shit the guy can chop off my head so it's not that hilarious.  

More layers than usual are carefully placed over my shoulders, a finer vest, an embroidered belt, and a brighter blue-coloured coat. The weight of all the fabric is starting to make me stoop. But this has to be done, and done properly I'm told, as they push on my lower back to straighten me up.  All the while I am being scolded from all sides. They are all angry at me, shocked, and saddened that I have shamed them. Apparently, I have made them lose face in front of His Highness.  I'm not sure why, after all it was my arse he saw not theirs.

And to be honest I couldn't care less.

"What were you thinking?" Lola snaps at me like a crazed Shih Tzu.

"I've never heard of anyone doing such a thing in all my years in the palace." Grace's face is still bright red and she hasn't stopped blinking erratically since the incident. 

I admit it wasn't one of my finer moments, in the last life or this one.  Normally, I am a modest person. I've always been, what my mum called big-boned, revealing clothes never really suited by body type, but I wore a bikini when I went to the beach and all my gym gear was skin time.  I liked my body.  I didn't mind being a strong-looking female but being caught starkers admiring myself was probably a bit much for a group of puritanical 1900 century women, who may have never seen their own body fully naked.

"Young Master whyyyyy of all days today?" Taylor Swift whined as she carefully smoothed down the collar of my coat.  "How many times have we told you not to touch....it"

Closer to my ear Joan huffed loudly and grumbled. "Why would you want to see yourself in that state anyway? I am starting to think that the fever has turned my sweet Min into a...pervert. Your body is not your own.  It is for your wife when you marry and then only to create heirs.  Carnal pleasures are for commoners."  

Lucky commoners, I thought to myself, not that I would ever say anything like that out loud. I looked at her closely. She was still a pretty woman even into middle age.  I wondered what sort of life she's led. I wanted to tell her there was more to being a woman than breeding or spending every waking moment caring for someone like me.  And definitely more to a relationship between a man and woman than just producing children.  We both sighed.

I felt bad for upsetting Joan.  I've grown to like her.  "I'm sorry Joan ."  She looked at me quizzically still not used to her new nickname, and gave me one of her little pats on my cheek.  "What has happened to my little Min?"

I too wondered what happened to her Min. If I am here, where was he?

How much of a wimp was he? I get the impression he was totally whipped by his godmothers. As caring as they are, their love is oppressive and controlling. Understandably, they are shocked by the complete loss of memory; and perturbed by my behaviour which 9 times out of 10 is inappropriate, but they could give me a break, considering I have been a prisoner in my own body for a long time.

After a week the only information I have about the old Min is that he was a meek fat young man, well-educated but emotionally stunted thanks to being raised by an army of women, inside a bubble that they controlled.  Min's family background is still a mystery, no one talks about them.  I didn't even know that he had a brother let alone a brother who was a Crown Prince until half an hour ago.  Which makes me think Dad is....I don't want to think about it.