(Outside Leonal's bedchamber)
A woman in red robes stood before the chamber door. Her fingers wrapped around the handle.
Her face was partially concealed by a red veil.
She hesitated.
A tremulous sigh escaped her lips as she listened to the silence beyond the door.
She knew about the young master's condition.
And whatever had happened to him, she had a sinking feeling that his recovery would not be as straightforward as everyone hoped.
At last, she turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The moment she stepped inside, she froze.
Leonal was sitting bolt upright in bed.
His chest rose and fell in frantic bursts. Sweat drenched his forehead. And the veins along his neck stood out prominently beneath his skin.
He looked like he had just escaped something horrific.
The woman hurried towards him.
"Leo!"
She reached for his hand. Her expression filled with alarm.
"Are you all right? Should I call the physician? Honestly, you always worry me to death!"
Leonal barely registered her words.
His mind was still trapped somewhere between the nightmare and reality. Struggling to make sense of the pain that had consumed him.
He looked at the woman. Then at the unfamiliar room surrounding him.
Everything seemed so real.
Far too real to dismiss as an ordinary dream.
He didn't know what had happened to him. Nor could he explain why his body had reacted so violently.
But one thing had become increasingly difficult to deny.
He was no longer in his hometown.
Whatever place this was, it was somewhere entirely different from the world he remembered.
Before he could gather his thoughts, footsteps sounded outside the chamber.
Leonal turned towards the door.
His eyes widened.
A squad of soldiers marched into the room. Their bodies clad in polished silver armour. Steel helmets concealed their heads. Metal gorgets protected their necks. Breastplates guarded their chests.
The sound of their boots striking the marble floor echoed through the chamber.
As they advanced, the formation split into two.
A figure clad in black armour emerged from between the soldiers. Striding towards the centre of the room.
He stopped several paces from the bed.
Then he dropped to one knee.
"Greetings, my lady. Forgive us for the intrusion. His lordship has summoned the young master Leonal to stand trial. We have come to escort him to—"
"Trial?"
The woman's voice cut through his words.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"On what grounds?"
Her gaze sharpened. And the soldier lowered his head.
"I don't care what his lordship has ordered. My son will not be dragged before the entire court like some common criminal."
The black-armoured man remained kneeling.
"Milady, please...."
"If the lord wants to see my son, he can come here himself."
Her voice was cold and unwavering.
"Let him come to me personally."
"Milady," the soldier pleaded. His composure beginning to crack. "Please hear us out. We are merely following his lordship's orders."
He hesitated before continuing.
"The High Council will also be present at the trial. We cannot simply disregard their summons."
For a moment, silence filled the chamber.
Then Silvia smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
"Do you think I, Silvia, am afraid of a bunch of old, withered fools waiting for their deathbeds to deliver a judgment on my son?"
The soldiers stiffened.
Even the black-armoured figure seemed to struggle with his response.
Silvia took a step forward.
"Go back and deliver my words exactly as I said them."
Her eyes narrowed.
"And if they want my son..."
She let the silence linger for a heartbeat.
"...they can come to me personally."
The bedchamber was filled with pressure.
The black-armoured soldier had anticipated this moment. Everyone in the palace knew of Lady Silvia's temper. Among all its inhabitants, she was perhaps the only person who dared openly defy his lordship's will.
Even the members of the High Council would think twice before challenging their lord's decree.
But things had already gone too far for the soldiers to back down now.
They had delivered the summons. Lady Silvia had refused. There was little else they could do without making the situation worse.
In the end, they had no choice but to report everything to their lord and await his decision.
The black-armoured soldier gave a slight nod.
The men behind him responded by striking their fists against their breastplates in unison.
Not a single word was exchanged.
They turned and marched out of the chamber. The clanking of their armour echoed through the room until the last of them disappeared beyond the doorway.
On the other side of the bed, Leonal watched the entire exchange with a bewildered expression.
Damn it, what the hell is going on here?
Who are those armoured guys? Am I part of some government experiment? Or is this some elaborate role-play orchestrated by a rich maniac?
All sorts of wild thoughts raced through his mind.
The scene had been so absurdly realistic that he almost felt like he had wandered onto the set of a historical movie.
Except there were no cameras.
No director.
And certainly no one was shouting that the scene was over.
Before his thoughts could spiral any further, the woman sitting beside him shifted closer.
"Leo, don't worry. No one will do anything to you as long as I'm here." Her voice softened as she reached for his hand. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
Her face was etched with concern. There was something deeply unsettling about the sincerity in her eyes.
Leonal turned towards her.
Then, after a brief hesitation, he asked, "Miss... do I know you?"
The words struck the chamber like a thunderclap.
The maid standing nearby froze.
Even the atmosphere seemed to change.
Silvia stared at him, momentarily unable to respond.
Then she quickly composed herself.
"Leo, don't frighten your mother like that." She tried to smile, though the strain in her expression was unmistakable. "I know you're frightened by what happened at the boutique, but you don't need to worry about it. I'll take care of everything. Just tell me how you're feeling right now."
"Miss, I think there's been some misunderstanding."
Leonal's voice was cautious but polite.
"I genuinely don't know who you are. Could you please explain where I am?"
For a moment, Silvia looked like she might burst into tears.
She managed to restrain herself. But the pain in her eyes remained.
Then she turned towards the maid.
"Fetch the palace physician. Immediately!"
"Yes, my lady."
The maid bowed and hurried out of the chamber.
Leonal watched her leave.
Or rather, he watched her disappear.
One moment, the maid had been standing beside Silvia. The next, she was gone. Moving so quickly that his eyes could barely follow her.
A chill ran down his spine.
The hairs on his arms stood on end.
Wait. What the hell was that?
His mind struggled to process what he had just witnessed.
Maybe he had missed something. Maybe she had simply moved faster than he could follow.
But even as he tried to rationalize it, a disturbing question surfaced in his mind.
Am I even on Earth anymore? The thought was absurd.
Yet the more he considered the events leading up to his awakening, the harder it became to dismiss.
He remembered walking to the grocery store. The sudden pain in his chest. Losing consciousness.
And then waking up in a room that looked like something out of a historical drama.
Now there were armoured soldiers, a woman claiming to be his mother, and a maid who seemed to possess an almost supernatural speed.
Nothing about this made sense.
His gaze returned to the woman sitting beside him.
Her face was tense with worry. Her eyes carried the sorrow of someone who feared she had lost something precious.
He could tell she was genuinely concerned about him.
But he couldn't afford to get distracted by her emotions.
Not yet. He needed answers.
And somewhere deep inside, he was beginning to suspect that the truth would be far stranger than anything he could have imagined.
All right. Let's look at the facts.
He lowered his gaze towards his hands.
They were pale. With slender fingers and smooth skin. They looked far younger than his own hands should have.
He raised one hand towards his face. Then brushed his fingers through his hair.
Long hair fell around his shoulders. Nearly reaching past them.
What the... He studied his reflection on the uncanny surface of a nearby ornament.
Even though the surface was slightly rough, the vague face staring back at him wasn't his.
His features belonged to a young boy. Perhaps sixteen years old.
He tilted his head down. With pale skin and a distinctly unfamiliar appearance.
For a moment, he simply stared.
The realization settled over him like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake.
This isn't my body. His stomach twisted. He wanted to panic. To demand an answer by grabbing the woman hand beside him and ask what kind of sick joke this was.
But he forced himself to remain calm.
Panic wouldn't help him. If anything, it would only make things worse.