Louis opened his eyes slowly. It wasn't a clear view at first but eventually, he was able to properly take in his environment. He was laying down in an elegant king-sized bed with the softest bedding he had ever felt.
The room that surrounded the bed was the most luxurious he had ever been in. The panelled wooden walls were ivory coloured and had elaborate carvings etched into them. Symbols and drawings that Louis could surprisingly make sense of, almost as if he clearly understood them. There were golden drapes that covered the massive windows and antiquated paintings (framed inside embellished wooden borders) scattered around the walls. The floor was also wooden and very glossy with beautiful rugs distributed all over it. The ceiling comprised mainly of an aged but stunning mural (depicting what seemed to be a war) that was bordered by patterned gold. Glass chandeliers with the most complex designs floated just below the ceiling providing a warm glow to the fancy chamber. The high-end furniture not only served its intended utility purpose but also complemented the aesthetic of the room.
To Louis, this was paradise. But how did he get here? Why was he laying down half-naked? The last thing he remembered was gawking at a dragon after almost being brutally attacked by a manticore!
"Today might just be the craziest day of my entire life," he said to himself.
"And it's about to get crazier," replied a familiar voice to his right.
It was the trench coat man! He had been watching over Louis from the shadows of the room. Standing at an impressive six foot and two inches ( just an inch shorter than our dear Louis), the slightly muscular man smiled at the chap before him. His silky blonde hair was packed in a neat ponytail and tiny hoop earrings adorned his small earlobes. His light-blue dress shirt, navy-blue tie and plaid waistcoat were all charred and frayed around the edges. The slacks he wore were burnt and torn all over. His exposed limbs were covered in dark but detailed tattoos.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Blaise Zerzen but you can call me Blaze."
"Why am I here?"
"Someone wants you here."
"Why are your clothes burnt and-?"
"Woah, take it easy there. All your questions will be answered in due time." With folded arms, Blaze crossed over to the other side of the room and grabbed a whiskey glass. Louis stared blankly as he poured (presumably excellent) whiskey into his glass.
"You were very close to becoming manticore lunch, I must say," Blaze said as he took a sip of his drink. "Luckily, I was able to intervene before that could happen."
"Wait, don't tell me-. You were the dragon I saw?"
"I thought that much was obvious." Blaze replied sarcastically staring at his burnt clothes.
"But how? How is that even possible?"
"With magic. Anything is possible with the appropriate kind of magic."
Louis laughed out loud. Blaze stared at him with a straight face.
'I'm dreaming. I'm definitely dreaming. Magic isn't actually real. There's no way,' Louis thought as he pinched himself.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, it's only going to hurt. Magic is as real as it will ever be. You just weren't exposed to it. How do you think you got here in the first place? Magic. How did I stop you from moving further earlier? Magic. How did I cloud your awareness so you wouldn't know I was following you? Magic. And how did I just read your mind? Simple. Magic."
Louis blinked. As he opened his mouth to speak, two sharp knocks sounded from the large double oak doors.
"Come in."
Two maids filed into the room, one holding a tea tray and the other carrying a t-shirt and a garment bag. They both stooped their heads in Blaze's direction and addressed him.
"Your Highness," they chirped.
Blaze nodded in their direction and they continued their work. The second maid handed the garment bag to him and the first one set down the tea tray on a coffee table and began to prepare the brew. When they were done, he excused them and they both courtesied and scuttled out the door.
"Please, help yourself to some tea but put the shirt on first," Blaze said as he entered the dressing room with the garment bag draped over his arm.
Louis got out of the bed and put on the black shirt on the sofa opposite the bed. He moved towards the tea tray. Holding the teacup in his hand, he took a sip of the warm tea. It was fantastic, unlike anything Louis had ever tasted before. He had lifted the cup again to take another sip when he heard the doors open once more and two uniformed guards bustled into the room on each side of the doorway. Very quickly, they turned to face each other with one hand on their foreheads in salute.
"Her Royal Highness!" They both voiced in unison.
The lady from Louis' dreams strolled into the room. If one word could describe her, it would be: dignified. Her snow-white hair was packed neatly in a French twist. She was dressed in a plaid grey Midi skirt and a light-blue blouse that hung loosely over her skirt. Her small black belt (with a golden buckle) folded smartly around her skirt. Finally, a dark-blue and white neckerchief swaddled perfectly around her thin neck.
Louis could only stare in shock at her demanding but gentle blue eyes. She smirked slightly at him. Her posture was incredible.
"It is certainly nice to see you once again, my child," she said calmly.
Louis couldn't utter a word.
"Come on, let it out. I know you have something to say."
"B-b-b-but... you were in my dreams. How-w-w?" he managed to utter out. "Your Royal Highness." He turned his face downwards briefly.
"I am sure Blaise would have mentioned it to you by now. It was only possible through magic."
"A particular type of magic you excel at, ma'am," Blaise had come out of the dressing room clutching the garment bag and wearing a new suit. "Your Royal Highness."
She smiled back at the approaching Blaise.
"Ah, Louis I see you've met the Senior Dowager. Queen Prisca of Stellenheim."
"Please, cease to pronounce his name as 'Loo-wis', Blaise. His name is pronounced as 'Loo-wee'. As per his father's wishes."
"What would you know about my father, Your Royal Highness?" Louis replied suddenly.
"Plenty. Before you proceed to ask me to reiterate what I know, I have a request. I would prefer if you only styled me as 'Your Highness' in public. When we are in private, however, you can refer to me as 'Grandmother'."
"Grandmother?" Louis scoffed. "I know both my grandmothers and you look nothing like any of them. Hell, you don't even speak like them. I doubt you even know my mom."
"Your adoptive mother? Melissa Dermont? Beautiful but little known model in the late seventies. Married your adoptive father, Billy Dermont, towards the end of her career. She is a very close friend of mine. I can assure you, that I indeed, do know her."
"Did you say adoptive?" Louis was flabbergasted, to say the least. This weird, mysterious old lady had just dropped a huge bombshell on him and he didn't know whether to believe it or not.
"Yes, my dear Louis. You are adopted. I am your true grandmother. This is my private residence, Stellenburg, and the room we stand in now once belonged to your true grandfather: King Domenico."