As you feel utterly self-conscious under so many stunned gazes, a skinny old man in rather ostentatoius robes runs up to you, and to your shock, bows deeply.
"Your Majesty!" he bellows out, having a surprisingly large voice for such a wizened man. "Please be aware of yourself! Think of what would happen if something befell you while you were out without your guards, and no heir to boot!"
"I think you have made some sort of...mistake...I'm not..." your voice, oddly deep, trails off as you notice that every single one of the people who were staring at you a moment ago are now either bowing or genuflecting on one knee, not one of them daring to meet your confused gaze. You're so put off by your surroundings that it takes a few seconds for you to realize that your clothes feel strange. Looking down, you find yourself covered in garments that would not look out of place in a Shakespearean production, but worn in enough to verify that they are not mere stage props. But it's not only your clothes that are strange; something is off about your body, but you can't quite put a finger on it under all the robes. Looking up, you notice a store window across from you, the glass somewhat distorted and of poor quality. However, it provides enough of a reflection for you to see a male face staring back at you. Taken aback by the odd relfection, you reach up and place a hand over your mouth to muffle a gasp, as the mirror image does the same. It is not the actions of the figure in the window that shock you most, however. It is the fact that the hand that is now over your mouth is also covering a square chin and the rough texture of stubble.
I'm....a guy?! Now you finally understand why your body feels so odd, since until a few minutes ago you were undoubtedly female. The idea that you are no longer in your own body stuns you to the point where you nearly forget how the old man addressed you. Before you can gather your thoughts, you see the old man giving you a rather frustrated look.
"Your majesty, if you would, the guards are ready to accompany you back to the castle," the old man says in a stern voice, indicating that you should walk in the direction from which the old man came. Unable to think of an alternate course of action, you numbly begin walking in that direction as the old man follows behind.
"Truly, your Majesty," the old man sighs and whispers, ensuring the peons could not hear. "If you would just take your duties seriously for once. The danger posed by warlocks and magic-weavers is truly one which could shake the foundations of this kingdom, and the other races are ever ready to pounce upon our weaknesses. I know I am only your Chief Advisor, but I worry for the kingdom. If you insist upon such frivolity, you should at least produce an heir to the throne."
You stonily nod at his commentary while not really paying attention, more engrossed in your own problems than the travails of the body you have somehow ended up in. You allow yourself and the Chief Advisor to be surrounded by the Royal Guard and accompanied back to the castle, all of which you observe with a sort of stony detachment, trying to convince yourself this is all a weird dream.
However, that hope is shattered the instant you step into the castle courtyard.
"Your Highness!" a high-pitched voice squeals as you get the wind knocked out of you, confirming the fact that there is no way you are dreaming this. Looking down at the source of the discomfort, you see an elegantly-dressed young woman has hurled herself at you, rather lovingly embracing you while giving you a pouting look. "How could you leave the castle without a word?"