Reporting

The day of my meeting reporting with Lieutenant Lancaster finally came and my nerves were on edge, and it showed in my restless demeanor. I stare at the letter that lay on my dressing table.

Sir Thomas,

I trust this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I hope that your recent mission was successful and that you have returned safely to the garrison. Your unwavering commitment to duty and your remarkable skills in service to the kingdom are greatly appreciated.

I must inform you that your presence is requested at the garrison office for a debriefing and reporting session. The details of your mission, as well as any pertinent information you have acquired, are of great interest to our superiors. Your firsthand account will undoubtedly contribute to our ongoing efforts to ensure the safety and security of the realm.

Please make your way to the garrison office at your earliest convenience.

-Lieutenant Marcus Lancaster

The weight of my impending mission bore heavily on my shoulders. The letter before me was a symbol of the role I had to play—a knight.

Despite my efforts to appear composed, the toll of my emotions was evident in the weary lines on my face and the bags under my eyes. I haven't slept much in the past few days.

My mother, ever perceptive, noticed my distress and approached me with a reassuring smile.

"Emily, my dear, you'll do wonderfully," she said, her hand gently resting on my shoulder. "Remember, you are strong and skilled. You've been trained well by your brother"

"I think I could use three years of training though" I replied anxiously. .

She gave me a warm smile while I stood in my room, still clad in my robe. She gently brushed my hair back and began to weave it into a tight braid, securing it with a dark blonde wig that matched my brother's hair color. With each movement, I could see the resemblance between us growing stronger, and for a moment, it almost felt as if I were looking at the reflection of my twin brother in the mirror.

"Emily, my dear, you bear such a striking resemblance to your brother," my mother remarked, her voice filled with pride. "With this wig and armor, no one will suspect a thing."

I nodded, taking in my reflection in the mirror. The wig fit perfectly, hiding my long hair and giving me the appearance of my twin brother, Thomas. As my mother helped me don the armor, I couldn't help but marvel at how much it resembled the armor he wore during his knightly duties.

With every piece of armor secured in place, my mother stood back to admire her handiwork, her eyes shining with concern.

"Are you sure about this, Emily?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a hint of regret. "I know I agreed to your brother in this plan for his safety and I have such confidence you but seeing you right now wearing this armor makes me filled with worry"

I adjusted the armor, trying my best to exude confidence despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach.

"I'll be careful, Mother," I replied, my voice muffled by the helmet. "I can't just let Thomas have an award or something for saving the monarch, right? He's doing important work out there."

My mother's gaze remained fixed on me, a fleeting smile touched her lips, "You've always been headstrong, just like your father," she said softly, her fingers brushing against the edge of my helmet. "I suppose it's in your blood to take on challenges because you just truly look like a knight right now, Emily"

I smiled at her, "Thank you, Mother, I will do my best to not embarrassed Thomas Hamilton"

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the transformation that had taken place. In the armor and wig, I truly did resemble my twin brother.

My mother handed me my brother's sword, its hilt worn from years of use.

"May this sword guide and protect you, just as it has your brother," she said, her voice filled with motherly pride.

With my mother's blessing, I took a deep breath. I was no longer just Lady Emily Hamilton; I was now Sir Thomas Hamilton, a skilled knight.

I was about to walk to the door, ready to get out while trying to ignore the glass set on the dressing table but it looked like my mother didn't forget it.

"I think you are forgetting to drink this," my mother said, taking the glass and gesturing it towards me.

I pouted, "Do I really need to do that?"

"Yes, your brother stressed it enough to me"

I reluctantly accepted the warm milk mixed with honey that my mother offered me, knowing it was meant to help me achieve a more manly and deeper voice, befitting of a knight.

"But Mother, I don't like honey," I protested, wrinkling my nose at the thought.

She chuckled softly, "I know, my dear, but it will help in making your voice more convincing. Just this once, for the sake of your disguise."

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and downed the mixture in one go, trying my best not to grimace at the taste. The warmth of the milk and the sweetness of the honey-filled my mouth, and I couldn't help but shudder at the unfamiliar combination.

As I finished the last drop, my mother handed me a handkerchief to wipe my lips.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

I forced a smile, trying to ignore the lingering taste of honey.

"No, not so bad," I replied, though my tone might have still sounded a bit too feminine for my liking.

"Don't worry, Emily, with time and practice, your voice will grow more confident and convincing. Just remember to speak from your chest, not your throat."

I nodded, taking in her advice. Speaking in a deeper voice didn't come naturally to me, but I was determined to do whatever it took to maintain my disguise as Sir Thomas Hamilton.

As I prepared to leave, my mother held me close, her embrace warm and comforting.

"Take care of yourself, my dear," she said, her voice soft and tender.

Touched by her words, I hugged her back tightly. "I will, Mother"

With a deep breath and a comforting squeeze of the hand from my mother, we made our way through the mansion, with my mother by my side. I couldn't help but feel a rush of nerves and anxiety. The weight of my disguise as Sir Thomas Hamilton bore down on me, and I prayed that no one would see through my act.

The servants we passed glanced at me with curious eyes, and I tried my best to maintain a composed demeanor, just as my brother would. I straightened my back, squared my shoulders, and forced a stoic expression, hoping it would be enough to convince them that I was indeed Sir Thomas.

My mother, ever the astute one, noticed my unease and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You're doing well, Emily," she whispered softly. "Just remember to walk with confidence, and no one will suspect a thing."

I nodded, taking her advice to heart. I tried to emulate my brother's confident stride, though it felt unfamiliar and awkward.

As we approached the main hall, I braced myself for any interactions with other members of the household. I prayed that no one would ask too many questions, for I knew that I had to be careful with every word I spoke.

Fortunately, most of the servants seemed busy with their duties, and I managed to avoid too much direct attention. But I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and my heart raced with fear.