Zane wakes up. It's a slow, gradual thing, and the light that filters into his eyes irritates him more than it should. His eyes shut tightly once again, and it's only after bringing his hand up to rub at his eyes does he think to try and open them again.
His first thought, upon waking, is understandably one questioning how he's still alive. He shouldn't be. He knows that. He was on his deathbed for crying out loud.
He can still feel the warmth of his mother's hand clutched tightly around his-- one of the only times she expressed genuine fear and longing. Of course, she never hid her love for him, but she was a tough woman, she never liked openly expressing herself. Not even to her own son.
But in his last moments, he was glad she stayed by his side.
Or at least, what he assumed was his last moments.
Zane rubs his eyes again. He should be dead, but he isn't.
What is going on?
Zane looks up and immediately starts to panic. He has now only registered his surroundings. Grand, but a little run-down, fancy room filled with luxury and wealth. All materialistic, unnecessary items that once would have made him happy, but now send a jolt of terror and discordance within him.
Zane knows this place. It's his room.
Or, more accurately, his, 'Zephyr Byron's' room.
It's only thanks to his pop-cultural knowledge that Zane has an idea of what is happening. Still, it's a hard pill to swallow.
Even if he had reincarnated once, from Zephyr to Zane the rising dance celebrity on Earth, he has never expected to be reincarnated back into his old self.
His old self, with a family too focused on their darling heir and social flower, to even give him the positive attention he so craved. His old self, who everyone shunned because he was born lesser, a half-blood bastard that was taken in due to the Duke's mercy.
His old self, who no one ever showed mercy to, going as far as to torture him at the time of his death.
To say Zane is a little more than mad is an understatement. He absolutely does not want to go through this bullshit again. He refuses.
Clenching his fists onto the sheets, he almost misses the knock on the door while stewing in anger.
"Young Master, I am coming in."
Zane's head snaps up in surprise. Of course, while he knows he's back to his old life, it is still a surprise to hear the voice of his manservant after not seeing him for so long.
Zane opens his mouth to greet Aidan warmly, but then, hesitates. Aidan wastes no time entering the room.
"I see you have awoken, young master. How was your sleep?"
"Fine..."
"I see. That is good to hear. Well then, let us prepare for the day. Your father wishes to talk to you."
Aidan was a capable servant. Unfailingly polite, masterful, and subservient, Zephyr's personal servant was his pride and joy.
But Zane, with years of experience dealing with celebrity life, can finally see through this bullshit.
He hadn't noticed the first time, but Aidan talks to Zephyr with an almost mocking tone. On the surface, it is polite, but the strange way Aiden says them has Zane on edge.
Still, Aidan was strictly professional. That, Zane can respect. He doesn't like it, but he's at least used to dealing with things he does not like.
"Aidan, remind me again of the date? Complete one." Zane slips back to his aristocratic manner of speaking, as easy as a swimmer in the water. This time, subconsciously, he puts a bit of his celebrity flare into his action, something Zephyr had never done before.
His Earth Mother, Emma, had always said it was his photogenic mode, but Zane never really took her seriously.
But Aidan might.
Though the answer was prompt, it was delayed by a few moments of Aidan simply pausing to stare at the young master. "It is the sixth day of the third week, master Zephyr, around the fourth rotation of the moon, 431 Common Era."
Zane blinks, taking a minute to digest the information. Right. How could he forget that this wasn't Earth? There were no days of the week, months of the year crap. Instead, people just took records of days of the week from first to seventh. Moon rotations were this world's equivalent to months. Ten rotations denoted a year, while moons rotated for around six weeks.
At least they numbered their years.
If Zane remembers correctly, it was around this time when...Ah.
"So he's still mad about that," he snorts. In the past, Zephyr had done something completely humiliating-- insulting a foreign embassy can do that to you.
Aidan pauses again and stares at Zane, before clearing his throat. "If I may, young master. The lord is only worried that this may affect your family, as a whole. Do you not care to watch your own actions?"
It was a little critical, and bordering on rude. But Zane didn't really mind. He might have, like Zephyr, but this time he couldn't exactly fault Aidan. Even Zane realized how stupid it was.
It's the lingering bitterness and hatred towards this fucking Duchy that had Zane release a dry laugh.
"Why? My esteemed father never cared enough to teach me how."
Aidan falls silent, bowing, knowing exactly how to step away from boundaries. Zane would have liked him, had he not been a part of the betrayal.
"My apologies. What shall you be wearing today?"
"Something casual, please."
Aidan gets straight to work.
Zane looks at himself in the mirror. How nostalgically dull, he thought, staring at his appearance. The hair, matted and disheveled, was a murky shade of grey, his eyes jaded and shadowed. Though well fed, Zephyr was lean and unfit, and the clothes he wore were a bit too baggy.
"Can you do last-minute adjustments?" Zane asks idly.
--------
Aidan...does not know what's going on. He goes about his day normally and received a message from Master Kallis to send his bastard son immediately to his office. It's a normal order, one that has happened many a moon rotation.
Only...the young master was a little different, this morning. For one thing, he wasn't as loud as he usually was.
That in itself isn't concerning, as young master Zephyr DID have the occasional off-day.
But then...he asks for the date. Aidan complies, but he is confused. Should the young master not know the date? And why ask for the complete one?
If that wasn't enough, Aidan decided to test the waters by bringing up a slight criticism that would have surely had master Zephyr acting out again.
And it worked. Kind of.
It was definitely young master Zephyr, Aidan had no doubt about that. The anger that had sparked in the boy's eyes was familiar, and Aidan braced himself for the fallout.
Except it didn't happen.
The young master merely made a statement while, very much hid anger and resentment, was so tame and, dare Aidan say it, resigned.
The strangeness continued on when dressing the young master.
He said please. He acted like it was a throwaway comment, but for Aidan who has never heard the young master be polite, it had shocked him. He nearly fumbled while getting clothes.
The young master stares at his reflection in the mirror. The outfit Aidan chose for him was indeed simple and casual, but very refined and carefully made, as befitting of the Byron Duchy. The only issue being that the clothes were the wrong size.
Or, the young master could simply not fill in the clothes entirely, being far too thin. Aidan always wondered about that. The clothes were indeed tailored to Zephyr's body, of course they were, it was always the exact length for the young master. However, there are always loose-fitting areas that make young master Zephyr seem smaller.
Aidan has concerns over whether the boy would notice and throw a tantrum, but the young master merely gave his clothes a considering look. Then, angling his head at Aidan's direction, Zephyr spoke.
"Can you do last-minute adjustments?"
Aidan blinked. "Pardon?"
Zephyr gestures to his ill-fitting clothes. "Adjustments, Aidan. Just to make it look like I'm not a drowning cat in a blanket."
Aidan ignores the strange metaphor and inspected the clothes. "Certainly, sir." And holds out his hands, but Zephyr surprises him once again by turning back to the mirror and holding his arms out in a lateral position.
"Good. Make it quick."
Aidan, had he been less of a capable servant, would have gaped at the boy. However, Aidan is a professional, so his momentary lapse is merely a pause before promptly getting to work, unloading pins, needles, and thread from his person.
Silently, he begins folding parts of the fabric that were making the clothes look bigger than necessary and inserting pins to hold them in place. While working, Aidan risks a glance at his strange master.
Holding perfectly still, standing rigidly like a mannequin, young master Zephyr lets Aidan quickly make adjustments. Zephyr's face is stoic and unmoving, but it isn't frozen, pupils darting this way and that, eyeing Aidan's work before staring back at his reflection.
Five minutes later, Zephyr nods at the mirror and turning to Aidan with a vaguely approving look. "My thanks," Zephyr says, and Aidan has to choke back the surprise.
"Of course, young master," Aidan replies, bowing. However, internally, he feels conflicted. Just last night was the young master throwing yet another temper tantrum, childishly acting like a fool and disrespecting the servants working at the Duchy.
Just what has happened to make the young master so drastically different?
Aidan watches as Zephyr bypasses him and approaches the door. Somehow, the young master made the action seemingly breathtaking, walking with a grace previously absent within the boy. The confidence Zephyr exuded was familiar, but at the same time, not. It was less suffocating, this time around.
This time, it was almost alluring.
Aidan blinks. When had the young master fixed his hair? It was bedhead not a minute ago!
The answer comes quickly as Zephyr runs another hand through his hair, the strands falling down like a cascading waterfall.
The young master looked handsome. Aidan could admit that now. Before, Zephyr had no care towards his appearance and only did the minimal grooming that was expected of him. As a result, Zephyr would look far too plain and out of place from the extravagance of the Byron Duchy.
But now, with correctly adjusted clothes and some unknown grace blessing the young master's every step, even Aidan could say that Zephyr Byron was a sleeping masterpiece.
"Are you coming, Aidan?" Zephyr asks, looking back at him.
"Yes, young master," Aidan replies.
He wonders how long this new Zephyr will last.