“What does your next step have to do with me cross-dressing?!” Roland turned pale with shock in an instant, utterly dumbfounded.

Silva smiled bashfully, shaking his arm. “I need you to disguise yourself as me and return to the palace.”

Roland blinked slightly, confusion flickering across his face.

Silva explained: “I’ve planted spies among the rebels. With them in place, the rebels won’t revolt yet—at most, they’ll imprison the royal family and divide power.”

“If we return now, the exposed rebels will panic. They might even try to assassinate me directly.”

“There’s a Grand Sage among them. If I go alone, I’d vanish without a trace. After thinking it through… only you, my darling, can pull this off. You’re strong—you won’t fail.”

“No. I won’t cross-dress. Non-negotiable,” Roland said firmly.

Blushing, Silva shook his arm and cooed, “Darling, just this once! After we marry, I’ll give you *so* much allowance!”

Silva couldn’t figure it out. Why did she enjoy acting coquettish with Roland? She’d never done this with her parents… Was she really in the honeymoon phase, like the books said? But they weren’t even a couple yet…

She felt troubled. Had she unilaterally fallen into infatuation?

“With me here, what’s there to fear? Even a Grand Sage won’t touch you under my watch. I don’t need to disguise myself,” Roland declared, pounding his chest. “Let’s go—I’m ready to unleash hell!”

*Anything’s better than cross-dressing!*

But Silva shook her head. “They sent a Grand Sage to ambush us. If we return unharmed, rebels will suspect us. Hidden ones won’t surface—and my years-long purge plan fails.”

This operation aimed to cleanse every rebel and spy from the palace. One escapee meant total failure.

“So… what’s the plan?”

“In the story, my fiancé Roland sacrifices himself protecting me. Only I escape the palace,” Silva said seriously.

“And Yenoa?”

“She dies too.”

“If I pose as you… where do you two go?”

“Xiao Ya and I will sneak in as maids. The guard squad’s already alerted—they’ll meet us.”

Roland understood. He and “Yenoa” would “die” protecting her. Only “Silva” returns.

Back at court, rebels would panic—maybe even strike. But that move would trigger their total collapse.

Silva was sharp. She’d considered angles he hadn’t. This was the only viable path.

Those rebels were cunning; one whisper and they’d vanish. This chance was too precious to waste.

But… he *really* didn’t want to cross-dress.

This aversion was just too deep.

“Any other plan?” Roland asked tentatively.

Silva shook her head helplessly. “No time…”

Roland sighed, gazing at the night sky veiled in dark mist, stars dimmed.

Peace was impossible tonight.

He saw the hope in her eyes, weighed the stakes, recalled his own words: *“Don’t worry, Silva. I’ll protect you forever.”*

He felt utterly helpless.

*You made the boast. Now swallow your pride and see it through.*

Finally, Roland let out a soft sigh.

“…Sigh…”

Silva’s eyes lit up. “You agree?”

Roland closed his eyes and nodded resignedly.

“Thank you, Roland,” she whispered with a joyful smile, rising on tiptoes to kiss his cheek lightly.

“Oh—do you have a transformation potion?”

“Uh… yes…”

“Good. Time’s short. Xiao Ya and I will change first.”

She pulled a fresh maid outfit from her Spatial Bracelet—white stockings, even matching lingerie and cute panties.

“This is mine. Darling… you’ll wear what I’m wearing now.”

Before Roland reacted, Yenoa tore a magic scroll. Their forms vanished into the barrier.

Moments later, Silva and Yenoa reappeared in crisp maid uniforms.

Blushing, Silva handed Roland a bundle. “Wear *everything*. Or you’ll be exposed. Every single piece.”

Yenoa tore another scroll. In a blink, Roland stood alone inside the barrier.

He examined it—fitting-room sized, crystal-clear walls. Visible inward, opaque outward.

“Not bad. Imperial Archmage’s work,” Roland murmured, then inspected the clothes.

Bloodstained white dress? Fine.

But this white lace lingerie set?!

*Whoa.*

Roland pinched the bra and panties, shooting a puzzled look outside. Silva, shielded by the barrier, didn’t notice—but her flushed cheeks and shy expression were unmistakable.

*Why give me your underwear?! And why seductive lingerie?!*

*Is “decisive battle” lingerie casual wear?! Were you planning this all along?!*

The fabric held her lingering warmth, a faint delicate fragrance.

His hands trembled slightly. His “gentleman’s soul” burned fiercely.

He crushed the urge to sniff them, pulled two pills from his coat, and swallowed.

His body shrank rapidly to Silva’s height. Features shifted. Hair lengthened. Soon—Silva’s face, Silva’s hair.

“Ahem. Hello, I’m Silva,” he tested. Nodded. Voice perfect.

The pills: transformation and voice-altering—both forbidden continent-wide. Hard-won.

Visualize the target; effects last four hours. Appearance and voice shift.

Gender-defining traits? Unchanged.

He sighed at the clothes.

…

“Xiao Ya… will we succeed?” Silva asked softly.

“We will,” Yenoa replied, gripping her hand firmly.

The barrier shattered. Roland stepped out.

Both girls froze.

The figure before them was Silva’s mirror image.

Skin like fresh snow. Delicate brows. Eyes clear as water, shimmering with spirit. Petite nose, soft lips, porcelain neck—every detail exquisitely matched.

Save for the unmistakable bulge beneath the skirt…

Noble grace. Serene demeanor. Identical to Silva.

Yet… *prettier*. Slimmer frame, near-perfect proportions. Legs more slender.

Flatter chest. A ribbon hiding the Adam’s apple. Somehow… more alluring.

Seeing their shock, Roland puffed up slightly, hands on hips. “Well? Convincing?”

“Oh! Chest padding!” Silva snapped out of her daze, pulling pads from her Spatial Bracelet. Stuffing them in, she muttered: “How can *she* be prettier… Impossible… Absurd…”

All girls cared for beauty—especially a maiden like Silva. Despite years of grueling work, her skin stayed flawless thanks to elite elven skincare.

Yet before Roland-in-disguise… she felt strangely inadequate.

*My boyfriend cross-dresses as me… and outshines me?!*

*No girl could accept this!*

“Ahahahahaha!” Roland laughed wildly, patting her shoulder. “Relax, Silva! Cross-dressing gives men a stat boost! You’re bare-faced. I just added *a tiny bit* of makeup—that’s why I’m *slightly* prettier.”

“Hahaha…” Silva forced a laugh, heart sinking into dejection.

“Alright. I’m going. Get ready.”

Roland shifted instantly—tears streaming, sobbing heartbreakingly. His acting speed left them stunned.

“H-how… was that… *sob*… Oscar-worthy… *sob*… Yenoa, you died so tragically…” He wiped tears, voice cracking like a professional mourner.