Every step she took felt wrong.
Each step on the floor echoed unnaturally loud, like the sound itself was trying to draw attention to her.
It reminded her, distantly, of how it felt when she'd first woken up in this world as Isabelle.
Every person she'd talked to, every decision she'd made, she'd been certain that people would immediately notice that she wasn't really Isabelle, that she'd do something and reveal the truth and suffer some terrible fate from those who were so loyal to their new empress.
But...
Looking back, that was an absurd fear. No one could possibly know that kind of thing. That simply wasn't something anyone could have guessed, much less easily.
Right in that moment, however...was an entirely different situation.
It might have been absurd, but it definitely wasn't some kind of unheard of impossibility for the empress of Nevremia to be disguised as a maid to sneak out of her house arrest.