Transmigrated into the body of a poisoned queen

Javier's POV

"Your Majesty, the tax report for the western provinces has arrived," the minister of finance said, his voice trembling. I didn't blame him. He was new to the position, and standing in the presence of the king had a way of making even the most seasoned men falter.

The council chamber was filled with the usual faces, advisors, ministers, men who spoke too much yet said too little. Their voices blended into a dull hum, droning on about the kingdom's financial situation. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and melted wax, while the early morning sunlight flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows across the room.

"Summarize."

I spoke the word flatly, no need for embellishment. The minister nodded so quickly, I almost feared his head might fall off.

His hand trembled as I focused my gaze on him. He began speaking in a hurried, stuttered voice, but I soon lost track of his words. The sound faded into the background, a blur of numbers and problems that no longer held my attention. My thoughts drifted, slipping into a dangerous space.

That woman.

Just thinking of her made my skin crawl. I hated that she occupied my mind. Since her arrival in my kingdom, I had never given her a second thought. But the moment I saw that emotion in her eyes, real emotion, not the usual fear or pretended smiles,it stirred something deep within me, something I couldn't quite understand.

People around me always wore one of two faces: fear, or the fake facade of a smile. But she… she was different. And I found myself wanting to know what other emotions were hidden beneath that face.

I rose from my chair, the movement sharp enough to send a ripple of tension through the room. All eyes turned to me.

"M...y lord?" Mateo Navarro, my royal advisor, rushed toward me, his face a mixture of confusion and fear.

I whirled around to face him, the words already on my tongue. "Tell them to bring her. I want to dine with her."

For a brief moment, his eyes went wide in surprise. Of course, he knew exactly who I meant.

He nodded, a little too eagerly. "Y-yes, my lord."

I turned back around and headed out of the council chamber. As I walked down the corridors of the palace, a nagging thought crept into my mind: Why had I said that? Since her arrival, I had never once dined with her. The thought lingered, tugging at me like an inconvenient truth.

By the time I reached the dining hall, I found the servants milling about, preparing the large, ornate table for two. They bowed low as I passed, and I gave them little more than a fleeting glance. Taking my seat at the head of the table, I positioned myself opposite the grand doors, my eyes fixed on the entrance, awaiting her arrival.

The table was set with an array of dishes, each one as beautiful as it was tasteless to me. The scent of rich foods filled the air, but it did little to stir my appetite. It all tasted the same to me.

I waited, my irritation growing. The servants finished arranging the food, and still, she had not arrived.

Without turning my gaze from the door, I spoke, my voice low but carrying authority. "Where is she?"

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the faint sound of someone gulping nervously. "She will be here soon, my lord. The queen is just... fixing herself," came the hesitant reply, from one of the servants. I didn't bother to determine which one.

I tapped my fingers against the table, growing more impatient. Just as I was about to stand, I heard the heavy thud of footsteps approaching.

"My lady," a voice shouted in a rush, and then there she was, standing in the doorway. Her hair, still tousled, cascaded down her back, and she was dressed in nothing more than her nightgown. She stared at me, that same defiant expression on her face. For a brief moment, I didn't feel the anger I expected to, as though her presence had a way of disarming me, even now.

Her ladies-in-waiting stood just behind her, their eyes focused on the floor.

Then, to my surprise, a smile spread across her face, not directed at me, but at the spread of food on the table.

"Oh, boy, I'm starving," she said with a gleam in her eyes as she stepped forward, her voice playful. I glanced at the male servants in the room. Who was she speaking to?

She eyed the table hungrily before stopping at the seat next to mine, completely ignoring the other head of the table that had been reserved for her. Her fierce green eyes landed on mine, her gaze intense.

"Um... good morning," she said with a curtsey, though it was half-hearted at best. I simply stared at her, taken aback by the casualness in her tone.

With a sigh, she flopped into the chair ungracefully, her hair flying everywhere.

"Rude," she murmured under her breath, her words in that strange, foreign tongue I hadn't yet bothered to look into.

And then, she gasped. "Oh my god," her eyes wide with astonishment as she stared at the plate in front of her. It wasn't the irritation I expected, I'd been told Princess Anneliese was not fond of our food. But here she was, looking at it like it was something she had never seen before. Something she couldn't wait to devour.

She began scooping generous portions of the paella onto her plate, the golden rice glistening with the sheen of saffron. Her hands were quick, almost desperate, as she piled on chunks of lobster, shrimp, and tender pieces of squid.

Her eyes flickered back to the lamb, its rich scent irresistible. She hesitated for only a second before cutting a piece, the meat falling apart with ease. She took a bite, and for a moment, the intense expression on her face softened, replaced by a slight, satisfied smile. That smile, so brief yet so genuine, caught me off guard. It was the first time since meeting her that I saw something unguarded, something human.

But then her personal maidservant rushed forward, grabbing her hand. When Annaliese realized what was happening, she yanked her hand away, pulling herself back from her reach. The maidservant, now flustered, bowed deeply, her body trembling with nerves. "I apologize, Your Majesty, my lady does not eat meat," she said quickly, her voice shaking.

I looked at Annaliese, and she appeared genuinely confused for a moment. Then, she glanced back at her maid and laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. "You're joking, right?" she said in German, before taking another bite of the tender lamb, completely ignoring her maid's protest.

The room was silent, every servant watching her as if she'd just committed some great offense.

My fingers curled slightly against the armrest of my chair. I should have been furious. She had ignored protocol, disregarded her own servant's warning, and worst of all, acted as if this were some casual meal rather than a dinner with the king. And yet… I wasn't angry. At least, not in the way I expected to be.

She was an enigma, an infuriating one. No fear, no calculated pleasantries, just that ridiculous, unguarded smile. It was almost as if she had forgotten where she was, who she was sitting across from.

The irritation burned beneath my skin, cold and sharp. I had brought her here for a reason, though now I wasn't sure what I had been expecting. Compliance? Gratitude? Something predictable?

Instead, she sat before me, eating like she had been starved for days, completely at ease, as if I were nothing more than another man at the table.

The absurdity of it all made something stir in my chest. Not quite amusement, but something close.

For the first time in years, I found myself watching someone not out of duty, but out of curiosity.

This girl would be a problem.

The maidservant took a cautious step forward, "My lady, don't! You will...."