How I found out transmigration was a thing.

Chapter 27 - Don't Pull a Fox by its Tail

The end of chapter 25...just in case you forgot where we were at.

I've never experienced a worse hangover, it was almost an out-of-body experience. I spent all of yesterday in bed, retching and vomiting each time I moved. My hand hurt.  Opening my eyes hurt. Thinking hurt. The only time I forced myself out of bed was to relieve myself in a chamber pot, which I loath doing. My aim isn't great at the best of times, when feeling fragile and only having one functioning hand, it's even worse. I felt sorry for my godmothers who had to keep cleaning up after me. I would have given a kidney for a working toilet that I could sit on and flush.

I drifted in and out of sleep. The day went by fitfully.  The village physician came, checked my wound, and left more smelly ointments. My godmothers came and poked me to make sure I was still alive. 

Bits and pieces of the previous day replayed in my head. Coherent thought came and went like the contents of my stomach, but from what I recalled after the dragon lady left, the rest of the day with the Crown Prince had been pleasant, surprisingly pleasant.

Explaining what the quill was, what it was for, and how to use it, broke the ice. The normally awkward atmosphere between us became agreeable. The Crown Prince ordered everyone out of the main hall and it was easy to speak freely without extra ears listening to our conversation.  The Crown Prince was fascinated by the beautiful crimson and gold feather and pleased to have received such a unique gift. I promised I would teach him how to use it when he visited next. He in turn promised that it would return soon.

Once we both relaxed and shared several jars of wine, I contracted verbal diarrhea and I was telling the Prince everything and anything that came to mind. The wine loosened my tongue and I forgot my situation and who I was with. I'm a happy drunk who likes to overshare.

I told him all my plans for the future, from wanting to write stories.  When he scoffed at the idea of aspiring to such a lowly occupation and mocked the dull-witted plots written for peasants, the uneducated, and women, I couldn't help but defend all would-be authors.  Fired up by the wine I became an enthusiastic storyteller and by the end the Crown Prince was impressed by my devious  imagination.  I didn't tell him my stories were reworked modern movie and novel plots.

He asked questions and I went on....and on. As I said I'm a happy drunk. I explained that I had an interest in plants and herbs and their medicinal uses, and was experimenting with making soap. Of course, he had no idea what soap was, so that was the start of another conversation.

One of the things I remember clearly as the afternoon wore on was the constantly changing expressions on the Crown Prince's face interest, horror, surprise but mostly confusion. They were the easy ones to read, there were harder ones I didn't understand. I'm guessing that as time went on and I got more inebriated my natural speech took over and I spoke in modern jargon that had the Prince scratching his head.

The wine also made me brave and eventually  I brought up the  subject of moving to the Imperial Palace.  I didn't beg him not to send me there, but I came close.  The conversation sent a chill into the room and both of us retreated into our shells.  In the end, I asked the hard question.  

"Was it your idea for me to go into the Palace or the Emperor's?"  

It was his.  He'd lied to me previously. I was glad he was being more honest this time.  The Prince got all stiff and pompous repeating it was for my own good now that I was coming of age and significant people had become aware of my existence.  He admitted to convincing the Emperor that I was a danger to myself and my bad behaviour could reflect on the Royal Family.  I wasn't impressed with his opinion of me, and the cordial companion from moments ago became frosty.  He explained that there were rules, lots of them, and everyone had to abide by them.  I wasn't an exception.