Loren is the future king, a prince recently dropped on the step to the throne due to the late King Wilfried refusing to disclose where the Aether Stone is before he dies, leaving him with the heavy burden of finding the crowning jewel so he can ascend and save the kingdom.

  Estienne Klossner is the vice leader of the Constans Royal Guard, treated like a Duke as he always mingles with the nobles, whispered as the bastard son of the late king, and is rumored to be aiming for the throne—by way of killing Loren before the poor prince can find the Stone.

  Haight-Katia is the Eyes of the griffinkin in the Constans Kingdom, waiting as she stood amidst the court’s members. She might not have any power there for now, but if the poor prince doesn’t find the stone until the last leaf has fallen: she will usurp the kingdom, as it is the old kings deal with the griffins.

  And me, Rachell Webster, am … well, was the reader of Eyes of Aether, a fantasy novel about Loren’s inner turmoil dealing with his father’s cruelty, the results of it after his death, the tension of the kingdom’s court, and the danger lurking with Estienne and Haight-Katia around. Now though, I’m in it.

  I’m still unsure how, but the first thing I realized was I was shaken out of a carriage. My body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, my shorts doing nothing to protect me from the wet mushy ground and rocks that jabbed my arms.

  “What the hell!” I grunted, blinking a few times and looking up at the noisy figures, “what are you—”

  But before I could speak further, one of them pointed his halberd at my face, the glistening silver tip barely poking the tip of my nose.

  “And what are you doing here?”

  Under the light streaming through the leaves, I could see the outfit, the uniform they were wearing. I’ve seen those types of uniforms before. Like the palace guards in England mixed with those ren faire knights. But these ones looked real and worn, the heaviness of those plates was as visible as their dirtiness.

  My blood ran cold. Crap. They’re serious.

  I lifted my hands, heavy and caked with mud. “I-I don’t know! I don’t even know where I am!”

  The guards, two of them, weren't listening to any of my words, and for a second I was afraid I was speaking another language entirely. Crunches of branches and leaves directed my eyes to another guard emerging from behind the trees.

  “No coachman,” the patrolling guard went back to his comrades. “No horses too.”

  The main guard nodded at him before glancing at me with disgust in his eyes. “Did you kill them?”

  “NO!” I yelled, raising my hands higher. “I told you, I don’t even know where I am!”

  The patrol guard huffed, his hand dropping to the sword on his side. “Constans Kingdom. You’re trespassing the castle grounds,” he said, “we’re still in the forest part, but it is still part of it.”

  I blinked. Constans Kingdom? Like in the Eyes of Aether? Then, maybe all of this is just a dream? Because I'm pretty sure I fell asleep while reading that book. But I never felt a dream this real, unless … is it a lucid dream?

  I closed my eyes, imagining myself on a soft bed, surrounded by soft plushies and mountains of books I have wanted to read. Everything is nice and well and I’m not in pain after being dropped from a carriage. But nothing changed when I opened them back. The guards were still here, the ground was still muddy, and I was stuck in this dream. Just my luck, my first lucid dream was actively steering right into a lucid nightmare with this guard keeping his halberd aimed at my face.

  “Why would a noblewoman be here, in a carriage, all alone with no horses or coachman in sight, huh?”

  The guard put the halberd closer to my eyes, and I grimaced. It could almost poke them out now.

  “I…”

  I looked down, my mind churning with adrenaline. Come on, think, think! This might be a dream, but you’re still gonna get killed and hung if you don’t say anything! They’re gonna think you’re a thief or worse, an assassin! And I didn’t wanna get killed, in a dream or not!

  My throat dried up as I met the main guard’s eyes again, my voice coming up raspy.

  “I WAS ROBBED!” I said. “That’s why I don’t know where I am or where the horses are!”

  The guards went silent for a second, and within the sudden silence, I could hear the faint sound of a lively kitchen in the distance, going through the rhythm of the day.

  “And?”

  “A-and?” I gulped.

  “And why are you in the castle grounds?” The main guard reiterated.

  Crap, they’re not satisfied with my answer yet …

  “I was … left here,” I muttered, “they took the horses and the coachman ran away. I didn’t know where to go, so I stayed here.”

  That felt flimsy, but I couldn’t think of an even more elaborate lie.

  “... more worthless than horses.” The patrolling guard grumbled out loud, and the main guard elbowed him for it. He just grunted in annoyance and looked away.

  “And where did you plan to go after this?”

  “To see the King?” My voice sounded absolutely unsure, but I tried to look like I meant it. I don’t really know what part of the story I’m dreaming about now, so I just took a wild guess on who’s ruling this kingdom now.

  And my guess failed as the next moment the guards laughed amongst themselves.

  “Heh, really?” The main guard shook his head as he let his halberd point away for a second. “You’re behind on the news.”

  The patrolling guard chuckled and whispered something to the silent one who was laughing along, seemingly enjoying my cluelessness so much. Too much, maybe.

  … honestly, they laughed so much that it made me regret even being here.

  Eventually, they calmed down and focused on my presence again.

  “Lady, I don’t know what griffin-blasted kingdom you’re from, but Constans doesn’t have a king anymore,” the silent guard said with a remnant of a grin in his voice, “not until that Stone is found again.”

  My heart almost stopped. I really am reliving the Eyes of Aether from the beginning. Damn it, I would rather not dream about a book I haven’t finished reading …

  The main guard cleared his throat and finally shifted his halberd away from a ready position, gesturing at the silent guard about something I didn’t understand. “For now we will take you to the castle and tend to your injuries,” he said, “then we’ll see what happens.” He pointed with his chin for me to follow him, and so I did.

  Meanwhile, the other two guards walked behind me, talking about a new stall in the city and other mundane daily things I barely paid attention to. I prefer to look around me, the leaves crunching under me, the distant animal and human noises, and the dampness of the morning air. It has been a while since I went out on a trek like this, and it really felt real. Since it just rained, the dirt under us was uneven and I kept sinking into the wetter part which made me cringe every time. I really needed to wash off when I could.

  “Gray, you forgot to ask her name,” one of the guards behind me suddenly spoke up.

  The main guard grunted and mumbled something about ‘I didn’t forget’ before he glanced back at me. “Your name?” he asked, almost begrudgingly.

  “Rachell Webster.”

  I didn’t see a reason to lie, so I didn’t hesitate to answer.

  The main guard just nodded and we continued walking in silence as I glanced at my surroundings, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the guards or their sharp weapons. After a while, my eyes stayed on a deer ahead, poking its nose around bushes. I didn’t think I’d seen that species before. Sure I’ve seen a few of them running down the road, but it didn’t look like them. This one had a longer neck and bigger ears with spots near its eyes that made it look bigger than it actually was.

  As we passed by it, the deer looked straight at me and ran away—but not before kicking some mud on my face.

  “BAH!”

  “Don’t look them in the eyes,” one of the guards behind me laughed. “They’re gonna bury you in the dirt if you do that again.”

  I wiped my face and grumbled. I never thought of it as something important, but people often said my luck was bad. The sauce packet in the store usually ran out just before I asked for it, the flashlight battery died just when I needed to grab something in the basement, most of my umbrella’s rib in the middle of a storm, and don’t forget that time I went up the stage for the Speed Reading Competition and got halfway thanking my cat before the announcer realized he misread my name and was actually meant to call for a ‘Rachel Webber’. The list went on and on, but the point is my luck is abysmal. Some of my dreams are usually about those unlucky times, but it has never been something new like this.

  My father sometimes joked it was because I walked under a ladder while grabbing the toolbox back in elementary school, but it should already be 9 years since then. Besides, I didn’t care about superstition. I always pride myself as a woman of rationality and science, so things like ‘bringing bad luck’ mean nothing to me.

  Of course, as soon as I said that, two birds passed by our heads and perched on the ground in front of us.

  “Bad luck,” the usually silent guard snickered and elbowed his friend, “better not put too much wager tonight.”

  We stepped around the birds pecking for worms on the wet ground and the guards continued talking about their plan for the day.

  Eventually, we arrived at the castle. He ushered us to enter through the door of a building attached to the main one. Servants—butlers and maids in sleek and puffy uniforms, came and went from the rooms, busy carrying trays full of food, tall glasses, and all sorts of ingredients in big portions.

  In preparation for this afternoon, I heard one of the guards mumble. We steered away from the kitchen and went to the living area which was more quaint. There were fewer people walking by, and we stopped to—I think—wait for someone.

  “He should be here,” the main guard said.

  After a few more minutes of me standing around uncomfortably, a man who looked older than the guards approached us, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth. “You three. Fin’shed the shift already?” He turned towards me with a smile. “An’ who’s this?”

  His eyes met me and he looked down to match my height. He wasn’t much taller than me, but he still did it anyway. The gray on his combed hair was more than I expected, but it matched the white undershirt of his butler uniform and the stress that came with it.

  “A noble we found,” the patrolling guard said before he explained how they did it. The butler nodded along as he stared at the specks of dirt and mud sticking to my clothes.

  “Nice t’meet ya, Lady Webst’r. Ya can call me Zinovy.” He introduced himself with a nod and a shallow bow. “Since yer here, I guess ya need my help, then. Let’s go ta Aisling’s room. Mine ‘s a bit dirty right now.”

  Zinovy directed us to the second floor where there were rows of rooms. From the opened ones, it seems that they’re all bedrooms for the servants. He then stopped in front of one of them, opening it with a gentle push and ordering us to get inside before leaving again.

  The room was lived-in and reminded me of my dorm. The two beds were laid side by side with some spaces on them, the state of each one’s tidiness reflecting their owners’ personalities. Lining the wall beside the door were two simple wardrobes, some clutter on the floor, and a round wooden table with some glasses on top. It felt quaint and made me feel a surge of melancholy. Ugh, I want to wake up soon.

  After a while Zinovy came back with two basins on his hands and another person. Beside him was a much younger woman, looking only a few years older than me. Her black hair was tied up into a bun, far messier than other maids we went past, but it was contained partly under a cloth headband—that she also abruptly put on just before she stepped into the room. As she did so, I noticed how much she was observing me, those light brown irises almost felt like judging me and my probably foreign clothes. Then, she spoke up in a more clear and energetic voice than I expected from the soft shapes of her face.

  “I’m Aisling,” she said, “and you’re Lady … ?”

  “Webster,” the main guard spoke for me. “She’s hurt, but you know how the physician is.”

  “Sure. Take a seat, Lady Webster.” Aisling nodded and gestured at one of the chairs. Before I could move, she already picked up a box from the floor and moved it to the table. “I swear, that guy needs to be better. He’s here not only to treat the kins.”

  Zinovy called her something in a different tongue with a tone that made me sure he was scolding her. “Don’t speak like th’t in front of the guest.”

  “I’m telling the truth, though!” Aisling chimed back, pulling out some bandages and ointments. “Hey, come on, sit, sit!” She waved at me who was still standing.

  “Yeah,” I muttered. I took a seat on the wooden chair beside the table, and the guards that escorted me just started leaving. They didn’t say anything else and didn’t seem like they cared about me.

  Aisling helped wash my legs and put my slippers away on one of the basins, then Zinovy moved one chair to my other side to examine my upper body. The two worked diligently to clean the mud I stepped in and the injuries I got from being thrown onto the ground and splattered by the deer. Between that, I cleaned my face with the clean water in the basin and looked back at my reflection for a second.

  My auburn hair was a mess. The bangs stuck to my forehead and the back part ruffled up into a tangle with some mud sticking on them. Usually, I pin my bangs with hairclips, but since I was reading in bed, I let my hair loose down to my shoulders, which turned out to be a mistake now.

  The more I stared at myself in the water reflection, the more those hazel eyes that stared back at me felt real. I mean, I’m … probably lucid dreaming about a book I was reading, with the caveat that I couldn’t control anything yet everything felt so real. From the sights, the smells, the sounds, and most importantly, the pain. It was getting harder and harder to grasp around.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Maybe the only upside is the help I’m currently getting pampered by a butler and a maid, which was a sentence out from a historical drama or something that I would never think I’d ever say. My eyes turned to how trained Zinovy was at making sure my wounds were clean and how Aisling knew how to take some big stains off my clothes even though I was still wearing them.

  All my life I've been just a normal university student with a normal home life, and I’ve never received this kind of treatment before outside of going to the salon. And I couldn’t lie, it felt nice, even if this isn’t real.

  “Aisling,” Zinovy looked at the girl, “find something more suitable for the court for Lady Webster, will ya? I’ll take ov’r.”

  She stood up and wiped her wet hand on her apron. “I’ll see if I can find something.”

  The black-haired girl walked out of the room and left me with Zinovy who immediately gave me a weak smile.

  “Sorry f’r Aisling,” he said. He cleaned my hands with a wet cloth and a bucket of water. “She’s young, still learning to not speak like that wit’ the guards. They’re good company, but Estienne ‘s the vice leader, so we should be careful.”

  I just nodded in silence, but I knew. I knew well what he meant.

  Estienne is known in the story as someone with an uncanny ability in interrogations. He’s already intimidating, but some also said he had that ability because he inherited some magic from a griffinkin ancestor and it allowed him to read people’s minds. Loren, on the other hand, wasn’t able to use any magic at all.

  “So, I heard you’re here to see the Prince?”

  “Uh-huh,” I muttered, “is it … a bad time?”

  He continued treating the small cuts on my hands as he talked. “A bit. Maybe you havn’t heard, but Constans doesn’t have a King now. The Aether Stone that’s needed for the coronation ‘s just not there.”

  “I see.” Even though I knew all of this already.

  “Ye, so the Prince can’t ascend the throne and we’re in a power vacuum. Currently, Gunther handles most things, but we can’t stay like t’is forever, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. Gunther is the advisor and unfortunately, a staunch hater of Loren because of his hatred towards Queen Avia.

  “I pity the Prince,” he muttered, “the late King was harsh to anyone, but especially to Prince Loren. Even b’fore the late Queen’s death, he’s already pushing him on all his lessons without letting ‘im out. The people outside the castle don't know him much b’cause of that, and so they don’t care if the griffins take over. Better clear guidance than some random Prince,” he shook his head, “especially after the drought last ye’r.”

  As far as I read the book, the griffins weren’t particularly visibly awful. They acted like dictators, hovering over their kingdoms and giving powers to those who were willing to obey them without any question or disobedience. In return, they gave supernatural-good advice on how to take diplomacy and war as they make sure all the kingdoms they control have trade routes that benefit them.

  But the book also implies that the Griffins want to take control of the world to harness all the resources in it for some nefarious purposes, so I’m not sure just bending one’s knees to the griffins is the right solution.

  “Nobles are also not fond of ‘im, considering how naive he is.” He said it like it was a fact, which I didn’t particularly agree with, as someone who has read Loren’s inner monologue. “Word ‘s, they prefer if someone else took the throne, someone more experienced and stern, they say.”

  Estienne, I answered silently. I bet some nobles think Estienne would be perfect for that role.

  “With all that's happening ‘round here, I just think the Prince is just not in the best position,” Zinovy finished his story at the same time as he finished cleaning me up.

  "I agree," I sighed.

  King Wilfried was really a jerk. Withholding information about the Aether Stone just because … what? He wanted power even after his death? His true reason hasn’t been revealed yet in the last chapter I’ve read, but I knew he wasn’t half the man Loren thought he was.

  “Forgive my rudeness. Wh’t kingdom are you from, Lady Webst’r?” Zinovy asked nonchalantly.

  “Uh–” I immediately choked up, tensing under his question as my brain racked up what I knew about the geography of the land. “Pallagstur. I’m just the daughter of a small noble though, my … barony is nothing you’d ever heard of.”

  Zinovy laughed and shook his head as he put the basins to the side. “Ye, I don’t know much about kingdoms outside ones ‘round Constans anyway. Work here already demanding ‘nough.”

  Softly, I sighed. Maybe I’ll be safe from being questioned by the servants here. In the book, Pallagstur is already a small country that only gets mentioned because they’re also not under the griffins rule, so I don’t know much about it if my lie gets prodded.

  After checking me one more time to make sure my injuries were all taken care of, Zinovy smiled a light yet genuine smile that reminded me of my grandfather’s. He clapped his hands together and settled to sit beside me.

  “Snce you’re new, might I tell ya what ta do ‘round here?”

  My eyes probably lit up when he said that. I’d never refuse an offer on learning more about this place. I already adored the bubbling yet quaint vibe of Constans in the book, so learning some inside scoop was really something I wanted, especially because well, I’m currently still in it.

  “Of course! I mean, if you don’t mind!” I smiled widely.

  The conversation turned to rooms I could visit and where to find them, tips on not looking at specific nobles directly, and many many more that only came from years of work in the castle. The whole time we talked, I held a smile on my face. God, this is definitely a 180 from how the guards treated me and I couldn’t be happier. I started to feel that maybe I wouldn’t be so miserable until I woke up.

  As our conversation continued, Aisling went back into the room with an emerald green dress in her hand. It was an A-line dress, the neckline quite high with somewhat puffy shoulder pieces. Down the gown was accessorized with a gold accent and patterns. It wasn’t as regal and uppity as I imagined a noble dress would be, but it was still certainly a fancy dress.

  “Lady Webster, what do you think of this one?” She lifted it up higher, revealing the beautiful lining and laces adorning its hem. “I had it made for, you know, slipping into parties and stuff. But you need it more for now.”

  “Really?”

  I glanced at her again, meeting her eyes which only reflected eagerness. The dress looked expensive, and considering this was a handmade one by a maid who was already busy working in the royal palace, it felt even more expensive than what I thought it would sell for. My head got dizzy just thinking about me accidentally ruining it with my unluckiness.

  “As long as you return it,” she snickered. “This is one of my favorites, after all.”

  I clenched my hand, a bit more nervous after hearing that. “C-can’t you just get me another one? One you don’t particularly like wearing or something … ”

  “Oh, don’t mind it.” Aisling waved her hand as she walked in and stopped by me. “What are you afraid of anyway? It’s easy to move in, and the palace here isn't that treacherous or anything.”

  “What if I accidentally … ruin it?” I muttered, the image of me tripping down the stairs and ripping it into three parts already vivid in my mind.

  Aisling blinked, as if not comprehending my question.

  “Then I’ll sew it back on? I still have the fabric.” She looked down at the dress and hummed, thinking. “I also want to change some of the beads and laces, so I’ll do that too if you accidentally damaged it.”

  “Ah, is that so?” I almost choked again. I didn’t expect that nonchalant of a response. Aisling hadn't seen how my unluckiness ruined most of my things, so she probably didn’t think it’d be that bad, but it was still a nice gesture that I couldn’t possibly refuse. “Then, if you don’t mind, I’ll take it.”

  The girl smiled. “Happy to hear that, Lady Webster! Please take good care of it!”

  I smiled back, sighing a bit. I knew it was part of their job to help ‘nobles’ like me, but it still felt so nice for them to do this. A pang of guilt settled deep in my gut for lying to them about who I am—though I know I also couldn’t actually say who I really am without getting in the dungeon. So for now I’ll go with this identity.

  “Honestly, I’m forever in your debt,” I said. “Both you and Zinovy.”

  “Don’t think about it too much.” Aisling put her dress on the bedside as she continued talking to me. “After Zinovy is finished, you can go take a bath and change. I’ll wash your clothes.”

  "I'll arrange a room f’r you too," Zinovy said. “It won’t be the best one we have since your arrival is quite sudden, but I’ll see that at least ya will have a view.”

  “That’s okay, I’ll take any room,” I said.

  “Oh, want me to help you brush your hair too, Lady Webster?” Aisling asked. “Xia doesn't usually let me do her hair because it gets in the way of her helmet.” She took a step forward and looked me up and down to see my hair more clearly. “Well, yours is shorter than hers, but I can work with it. Just gotta wash them first then … ”

  “Aisling.” Zinovy cleared his throat. “Don’t rope Lady Webster into your games.”

  “Come on, we’re probably the same age!” Aisling gestured at me as she turned to the older man. “Lady Webster needs the styling too, anyway!”

  Seems like we thought the same. I laughed. “It’s fine, I don’t mind,” I said, “I’m not exactly equipped to be in the court here, so I appreciate both of your help in any way.”

  Zinovy hesitated before he sighed, then smiled. “Understood, Lady Webster. But please tell me if Aisling bothers ya at all, okay?”

  “Mhm, of course,” I answered.

  Hearing my answer, Aisling fixed her headband as she mumbled something under her breath which Zinovy only gave a side eye at.

  “Excuse me.”

  A masculine voice boomed through the room as the patrolling guard that brought me here entered the room.

  “Benito,” Zinovy greeted the man. The guard, named Benito, apparently, waved as he approached us. Zinovy realized he hadn’t come to talk to him, so he continued tending my legs as Benito turned to address me.

  “Lady Webster. We’ve decided that until the Prince is ready to meet you, you can stay here,” he said, “under our watch.”

  “Understood,” I answered. It wasn’t like I was gonna do anything anyway, but I understand their hesitancy of letting me linger. The previous king died with no way of crowning the next one and the current one was seen as incompetent while the rumored bastard son is aiming to replace him. Benito was fine with my answers and said a few things to Zinovy before heading out again.

  I wondered if he was suspicious of me. I’m sure he was, but he couldn’t really carry an interrogation. And fortunately, Estienne wasn’t with him—as he’s probably busy plotting Loren’s demise—and I got off scot-free.

  At least until someone finds out I’m not a noble from a faraway region.

  That afternoon, after taking a long hot shower in my newly acquired room, I decided to take a look around. I walked down the castle hallways while pulling on Aisling’s dress. She was a bit taller than me, so the bottom grazed the floor and covered my feet, which was partially good because Aisling’s shoes kept slipping off. My feet are still a bit sore from the fall and the cuts pulsed with pain sometimes, but it’s already better than before. Rather than dwelling on my pain, I prefer to think about what I should do now.

  As someone who read the novel, I probably have the moral obligation to stop Loren getting killed by the many people who want him dead. But I’m not sure I actually need to.

  Eyes of Aether is a young adult book. The main characters are a bit older than 18, it has some violence from the sword fights and murder attempts, and Estienne throws curses at the griffinkin, but the bastard son’s attempts at regicide haven’t really worked so far. So Loren should have a happy ending. Maybe at the last second Estienne realized he was wrong for trying to kill him, maybe he even helped Loren find the stone and stop Haight-Katia’s schemes. Who knows? I won’t too until winter comes in around four months.

  With that, my conclusion was I shouldn’t mess around much and just watch everything from the sideline. I will return Aisling’s goodwill by buying her a better dress, of course searching for a way to wake up, and … hmm, what else can I do?

  The main hall was filled with nobles as I passed by it. In a few weeks, they will hold a ball so Loren can find the future queen. Unfortunately, it was just another reason created by the nobles to push him to find the Stone—and get crowned—faster. They will fail anyway since Loren goes ‘missing’ when he finds a griffin tongue-covered tunnel beside the old kings’ and queens’ tombs and he spends the night trying to decipher it.

  “The lace one is better,” a high-pitched-voiced noblewoman waved her fan at another.

  “No no! The ribbon will frame the plates better!”

  My feet immediately took me away from the unimportant squabbles. I never cared for them when I read the story and now I see them firsthand, I care for them even less.

  After wandering around, and listening to horrendous decoration picks by people who clearly never see anything that didn’t have gold flakes in them, I decided to stop by the refreshments and quench my thirst. I hadn’t drunk anything yet since I came here, so the sight of those glasses free to be grabbed caught my eye. I walked towards the tables, trying to blend in with the ‘other’ nobles. The way around them wasn’t crowded, but eventually, I still bumped against someone’s back.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, moving past the man to reach for a glass. I just grabbed the nearest one to me.

  Without waiting, I poured the liquid down my throat. The glass was thin and tall so I finished it all in one gulp, leaving no remains as I put it back on the table. The taste was sweet, reminding me of a strawberry and watermelon with a hint of … a flower. It was certainly soothing and made me want to sit down for a bit.

  I leaned back against the wall and missed. My heels slipped on the floor and I scrambled to grab the edge of the table and missed again. Everything started spinning and spinning and spinning and my torso hit the marble floor, followed by my head.

  As I lost consciousness, I could see the man I bumped into turning back to face me—alongside a few other nobles who gasped in horror.

  “How do you feel?”

  It was only a few seconds after I woke up again, and I couldn’t answer right away. My body felt bumpy from being stung by a thousand mosquitos, both inside and out, but I went numb instead of itching all over. The man seemed to realize that and waited until I could speak.

  “N’t gud,” I muttered after a minute of trying.

  He grunted, staring me down with impatience in his eyes. “Try and state your name.”

  “R-rachell,” I tried to speak, but my tongue still barely scraped the roof of my mouth, “W’bster … ”

  “The robbed noble.”

  With a sigh, I nodded. I didn’t want to be known with that title, but what choice do I have?

  I looked around to orient myself. I recognized the room as the guest room Zinovy picked out for me, but there was no one else besides us. I could also see some bottles on the nightstand beside me, a drink like the one back in the main hall, alongside spare bandages identical to the one Aisling had in her box. Did Zinovy and Aisling tend to me again? I grimaced as much as I could with my sore mouth. I’m still here for a single day and I’m already in their debt twice. Curse me and my unluckiness.

  Meanwhile, the man sitting on the bedside put a hand on his chest. “My apologies. I’m Estienne Klossner, the vice leader of the Constans Royal Guard.”

  “Huh?”

  This is Estienne?

  In my mind, he was more cold. He had a permanent scowl on his face, his hair was spikier, held back with cans of hair gel, and he always held his head high from times he needed to blend in with the nobles. All the remarks of a cold and uncaring man.

  But the man in front of me looked warmer. He looked melancholic, the lines of his eyes were soft yet stern enough for a guard, and his dark brown hair was held back, but it was also messy and a few centimeters longer than my image of him. The sense of nobility was still there, but it was more subdued by this faint disregard for his surroundings, which was alarming because he was one of the best in the Royal Guard. His clothes also didn’t stand out as I imagined. It was barely different from the ones the other guards wore, aside from some details and padding.

  Seeing him like this, staring down at me with those baby blue eyes made me realize that maybe this world is based on the original author’s vision of them, not my own imagery of them. And now I wonder what Loren looked like.

  Estienne got uncomfortable from my staring and he cleared his throat. I immediately realized what I was doing and averted my gaze. He stood up and fixed his uniform before bowing. “I’ll be going, Lady Webster. Hope you can heal soon.”

  “ ... thank you.”

  Estienne turned around and left the room, making sure to close it behind him. At least he didn’t grill me, I sighed in relief. He was a bit intimidating in person, but I really couldn’t ignore that sense of melancholy on his face.

  Hm, wait.

  Now that I have time to think about it, didn’t one of Loren's first incidents happen because he started coughing out blood when he faced the advisor? It happened after he was schmoozing with the nobles about the party, and he eventually recovered because he begged the physician through his pain to help him make a cure, but the advisor still deemed him fragile because of that.

  My heart beat faster as the familiar situation rooted itself in my mind. Wait. That couldn’t be what just happened to me, right?

  The thought almost made me laugh, but then I looked at the glass on the nightstand and recalled the slightly tinted color of the liquid back then, ever so slightly different than the one sitting there. Those two should be the same drink. But they weren't. I was drinking something else, something … poisoned. My blood ran cold.

  Maybe my luck was swirling down the drain.