Edward paused for a moment, his mind churning with thoughts on how to handle this bizarre situation. He was under no illusion – he couldn't pull off the whole "crown prince" charade. Acting was just not his thing, and he knew it. He had grown up in the world of gangsters, leading his own crime family since the tender age of 14. His education might have been top-notch, but his upbringing was far from royal, and his way of speaking was a dead giveaway.
In the face of this tricky predicament, Edward remained eerily calm. His grandfather's influence had molded him into a fearless leader, and he wasn't about to panic now. Besides, this time around, he had nothing much to lose anyway. After mulling over his options, Edward decided to roll with the classic "Amnesia" card.
He cleared his throat, his voice carrying a hint of innocent curiosity, though his acting skills left much to be desired. "Um, excuse me, but... who are you?" he ventured, feigning confusion that sounded more like intrigue. Acting didn't seem to be his forte, and he couldn't help but cringe internally at his attempt.
The Emperor's brow furrowed in response, his expression reflecting his puzzlement. "What do you mean?" he responded, a touch of concern slipping into his voice.
Edward kept at it, hoping his less-than-stellar performance was passable. "No, seriously. Who am I?" he prodded further, maintaining the facade of curiosity and bewilderment.
Here's the kicker – when someone's lost their memory, fear is the dominant emotion, not mere curiosity. But Edward's risky gambit was working. As the realization hit those around him, the Crown Prince's possibly genuine amnesia dawned on them. And in the midst of this intricate act, not a single detail escaped Edward's notice.
With a delicate grace, the Queen – whose name Edward managed to salvage from the recesses of his memory, Selena – leaned in closer, a palpable worry emanating from her gaze. "My dear son, have you lost your memories? Do you even remember your mother?" Her voice held a quiver of concern, and her eyes glistened as if holding back tears. The turmoil in her heart was painfully evident.
Edward maintained his act, playing his role to the hilt. He looked at Selena, his expression a mix of confusion and vulnerability, mimicking someone grappling with the sudden void of lost memories. "Mo... mother?" he stammered, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty. The others present couldn't have asked for a more convincing performance – it was almost as if Edward had forgotten Selena too.
Interestingly, Edward's facade contrasted sharply with a reality that he held close. In truth, he had always been a mama's boy, harbouring a deep affection for his mother. Despite his status as the crown prince, a multitude of factors had led to his half-siblings and other nobles attempting to exert control over him. However, with his elder brother and his mother, Selena, at his side, their attempts had always fallen flat.
As this complex web of deception wove itself, Edward held onto his inner truth, a truth that even amnesia couldn't erase – he was indeed a mother's son, and his bond with Selena was unbreakable.
The old man made a hasty reappearance, and if looks could kill, Selena's glare would've done the job. Beads of sweat formed on the guy's forehead like he was in a sauna. Little did he know, his life was about to get even stickier. He was muttering silent litanies of "Why me?" and "Could this day get worse?" in his head as he approached the bedside.
The old man's internal monologue painted a vivid picture of his inner turmoil. "Seriously, what did I do to deserve this kind of mess? Why did I get roped into dealing with the Imperial Crown Prince's case? Knowing my luck, there's bound to be some drama, and I'll somehow get tangled in it. I've got to wrap this up pronto and make a hasty exit before I'm knee-deep in trouble."
With Selena's laser-focused glare and the palpable tension in the room, the old guy must've felt like he was facing down a firing squad. He checked Edward over like his life depended on it. Everything seemed pretty normal, physically at least. So, the diagnosis? Well, the impact or whatever went down might've been such a shock that it fried Edward's memory circuits. The guy basically concluded that the memories were just temporarily AWOL, waiting for their grand reentry into the scene. When? No one had a clue.
This little revelation triggered a range of reactions. Frowns etched the brows of those who genuinely cared for Edward, their worry painting the scene. On the flip side, a couple of folks couldn't hide their smug expressions, like they were celebrating their secret victory. Yeah, it was like a soap opera playing out in real life.
Edward was in his element, taking mental notes of the reactions around him as if he were still orchestrating the intricate moves of his criminal underworld. In his former life, such observations and strategic planning were second nature. Amidst his strategizing, the emperor's voice, Nova Dragona, cut through the air.
"Um, so you've got some memory issue due to shock, huh? Well, let's start from square one. You, my dear son, are the fifth prince of the Dragon Empire. Oh, and by the way, you've got the Sun's blessing – they're calling you the Holy Son of the Sun Temple."
Edward couldn't help but mumble to himself, and just as quickly, his chuckle escaped his lips. Everyone's brows shot up – what in the world was so hilarious about being the Sun's chosen one?
The Emperor, Nova, raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by Edward's unexplained amusement. He asked with a touch of seriousness, "Care to share the joke?"
Edward's lips twitched into a smirk as he responded, "You see, I'm the son of the Sun – it's like being the grandson…" He let the sentence trail off as he caught the baffled looks on everyone's faces. With a resigned click of his tongue, he remarked, "Guess the sense of humor's not exactly your strong suit."
Another round of silence followed as the crown prince's audacity hung in the air. Nova, a clear question in his gaze, asked, "What's gotten into you?"
Edward swiftly backpedaled, realizing he had momentarily slipped into his true persona. He offered a hurried explanation, "Well, everything's so new to me now, it's only natural that I'd change too."
The nods of agreement that followed seemed reasonable enough. But beneath the surface, a transformation was taking place – the once uncertain crown prince now seemed to wear confidence and cunning like a second skin. It was as if his memory loss had paradoxically catalyzed his growth into a different, intriguing figure.