Darkness, an endless pitch of black like a bottomless pit was the first thing to greet him. Trying but failing to open his eyes, he realized his state was a deep slumber.

Still being capable of perceiving his sense of touch, a delicate plus smooth cushion that let the body fall and merges into it was the ensuing sensation he experienced.

'What was going on? Where am I? Who am l?'

Disoriented, and with queries consuming his being, he endeavored to distinguish the situation. With no fore thoughts coming to mind, he was compelled to succumb to his desires as he finally opened his eyes.

'This place?'

Astonishment replaced his previous feelings. There, in the space that received him was a room suitable for royalty. The ceiling had chandeliers, the sheets beneath him were one of the softest materials he ever perceived, and the bedroom had a refined interior.

'Could this be my room? Am I someone of high status?'

Calming his amazement, he rubbed his pulsating headache as he spotted a large mirror posted against the wall. Touching the image on the glass, an acceleration of his heartbeat could not help but reappear.

Instead of blonde hair known for its nobility, he saw one of Asian descent. His appearance had long black hair, handsome features of a youth in his teens, eyes that held curiosity plus eternal wisdom, and a dignified bearing that spoke of his standing.

*Knock* *Knock*

"Please excuse me, Your Highness." Before further thoughts occurred, a maid dressed in traditional attire walked in.

"Ah! I... I apologize Your Highness. I didn't think you would be awake after being three days in a coma." This acknowledgment was spoken with her eyes shifting to the ground.

'A coma? For what reason?'

Intending to ask her about his predicament, the words at the tip of his tongue died the moment she announced her objective. "I'm sorry but the Prime Minister as summoned you to the dining hall."

'Huh? Did I miss hear?'

To be told that he was summoned instead of requested was absurd. Just by the little tell signs gained, the maid was addressing him as someone from royalty.

In that case, he had to be at least someone from the royal bloodline or a direct descendant. Despite this, her wording implied that it was a demand.

Since when could a prime minister enter a prince's home and claim authority? Just how influential was this man? What would happen if his weakness of being clueless was known to such a man?

Having no further plans to let slip the lost of his memories, he agreed to come after getting dressed. Even more peculiar was the maid stepping outside to allow him to change his clothes.

Giving that most servants would help dress the master, her actions were indeed odd. It could also just be that his assumption was wrong and it was, by contrast, the Prime Minister's house he rested.

But what were the chances?

___

Moving along the halls, he was positioned in front of the maid leading the way. Of course, he was inwardly crying. It exerted all his skills of body language, acting, inferring, and instinct to pull off the impression of knowing.

'Hm? I think that with this narrow way, it's not ideal for group chatting so it must not be a place for eating. Oh? Her foot looks like she might go right. Good, so I was right.'

Among his internal mumbling, he paid strict detail to his surroundings for mapping while subtly examining the palace, or what he presumed was one.

Portraits of ancestors adorned the walls. The carpet was violet with gold embellishment, and the plafonds well illuminated. The source of the light didn't even appear to be fire either.

As he familiarized himself exceedingly, he noticed the maid fidgeting. 'Is she getting impatience because of my leisurely pace? Better to diffuse her suspicion I supposed.'

With that, he hurried his stride, arriving in front of the dining hall doors. The maid then took this chance to give a knock in advance, letting the Prime Minister know of their arrival.

However, he stopped her efforts as he was still sure that this was his home. If he insisted on even knocking to his own eating place before others, he should give up the title of a prince altogether.

Regardless of the Prime Minister's beliefs or fame, there was still principles that must be followed regarding the respect of nobles.

He also very much doubted the Prime Minister would forgo this status quote over a simple show of prestige.

Here, he would have dismissed her, but he was still ignorant of his name. Wouldn't this opportunity allow her to give an entry induction of welcome and solve the problem? "Come."

Pushing the doors open, he was left with the sight of a man at the head of a long table, and a young teenage boy sitting to his right.

The table had a display of varieties of foods from regular chicken to exotic foods of weird balls that might have been better-called eyeballs. The meal completely ignored the morning hours.

But what mainly drew his attention was the duo's sitting arrangement. As a prime minister, one's status could be said to be only below the emperor and above all.

It was not unreasonable if a prince had an unequal standing to some. The problem with the scene ahead though, as the owner of the house, naturally he should be the one at the head seat.

If that weren't worse enough, the following highest position would be to the right of the one holding the highest honor. And yet, that too was occupied.

The whole setting looked like nothing more than a blunt humiliation and provocation. It was clear just how the Prime Minister saw him.

"Please forgive me for my late announcement. His Highness, the Royal Prince Duan Yun, has come to greet Your Excellency." The Prime Minister just waved his hand to have her leave.

After her respectful bow, Duan Yun watched her leave as he turned his eyes back to the two sitting down. Neither one had bothered to stand up.

"It's good to see you doing well again. Go ahead. You may have a seat." Listening to the Prime Minister, he continued watching as another servant pulled back a seat at the furthest from the head.

'Was this a joke?'