When he awoke next, the Prince was being carried to the banquet hall. With limited vision, the watery pupils rolled around to try and see an exaggerated stage of wealth. Sadly, he might as well have been reincarnated as a blind bat because even when blurry, everything that shined somewhat hurt his sensitive eyes.
With a huff, he shut his eyes again debating whether to fall back asleep or not. For the past month, he felt like he had been in a perpetual state of limbo. He couldn't move because he was swaddled so tight. He could barely see anything unless it was placed at most, a foot away. His only form of food was breast milk. He could not speak to voice his irritation. And worst of all, he could not cry like a normal baby because he was really scared someone might lose their head.
The little Prince's mind rolled behind his eyelids with the same questions a philosophy professor would start off a lecture. 'Who am I? Where am I? Why am I here?' He didn't know how or what led him to this strange time and place. As a teetering half-atheist, half-apathist, who previously didn't exactly fear gods and ghosts, after this experience, the Prince was so scared that he wet his diaper several times.
In his previous life, his first name was John, last name Smith. His most common of common name was an unfortunate outcome of a randomized placeholder naming system given by a social worker who first received him. They said that if he were ever to be adopted, he could change his first name along with the last.
Unfortunately, that time never came. John Smith was a good-looking child with a quick mind even at a young age. In most cases, he should have been a number one pick for most parents seeking to adopt.
But, more unfortunately, John Smith was a sick medicine jar who couldn't live a day without swallowing a bitter pill since the age of two. Heart disease, epileptic episodes, even asthma and allergies to pet dander made him as weak and delicate as a piece of porcelain. So, one year after another, John Smith had lived in the orphanage, or hospital, depending on how much God loved him that day, and kept his absurdly common name.
As for how he came to this strange world where they dressed like ancient Europeans and thankfully spoke English, even if it was a bit outdated, John Smith was still trying to figure it out. What was even more concerning was that he had turned into a baby and was involved in a deadly palace scheme on his first day of his new life.
He had just been pushed out of the womb, was still covered in afterbirth, and was instinctively activating his overdeveloped lacrimal glands when he was taken from his new mother's maid and switched with the stillborn First Prince. His 'newer' new mother was passed out from having just pushed out what seemed to be a big, fat boy. It was unfortunate that his cousin didn't survive for obvious moral reasons, but John Smith also wished the real First Prince lived so that he wouldn't be placed in such a messy situation.
The Concubine's Head Maid made threats to silence any and all mouths in the room if a word about this were to spread. According to her, with the real First Prince dead, none of them, including all those serving under the Concubine, were probably going to survive this episode once His Majesty's wrath really rained. It did not matter that they weren't the ones to hurt the lady and highness. Their mistake was their carelessness at such a critical time.
The doula and four other women quickly agreed, albeit reluctantly. But later, in a rare time when John Smith was fully awake, he heard from palace gossip that all five women had been fired after a dozen lashings each. Ironically, they were shown mercy because they were present in delivering the First Prince, thus His Majesty's 'light' pardon.
The Prince didn't have long to continue his nap as his entourage, including his Nanny, two maid servants, and four guards, had already arrived at the banquet hall. Before heading in, his 'father', the King, met them with his own posse surrounding them. His nanny quickly handed him off to the man who the Prince held such complicated feelings toward.
He looked up toward the man wearing a crown inlaid with jewels the size of his baby-fist, causing the Prince to squint as he studied the King today. He, like many of the men in this world, had waist length hair, though his was uniquely platinum with an almost silvery hue, very much like to a famous fantasy show he used to watch religiously. He wasn't as overpoweringly handsome as those kings in the books he read at leisure, but he did have a very nice face with a roman nose, prominent cheekbones, and thick dark brows that thankfully did not match his silvery locks. Unfortunately, his beard was so long that it almost prickled his sensitive newborn flesh and hid an important feature as a man, the jaw. So, the young prince had to impartially deduct a few points from the King. If what the King hid under that bushy beard was a weak jaw, the Prince would understand why the King wished to resemble himself to a certain famous wizard. Lamentably, the man had amazing eyes that were a deep blue similar to the sphinx cat he found and took in on the day he moved out of the orphanage at eighteen, rounding the King back up half a point… Okay, a full point.
His beloved Ringostar had been his best friend and only family since then. Thus, the color always made him feel a bit sad and nostalgic.
He really hoped Ringo would be okay… Luckily, he had given a key to a good elderly neighbor that would occasionally come over during the day to entertain the bald cat. His past self wanted to be sure that if ever he were to end up in the hospital, his only family member would be taken care of.
A moment later, the doors were opened to a vast hall. Feeling the radiance of all things shiny, the Prince didn't even bother opening his eyes this time. He could only guess how frightening the scene before him was. After all, the shuffling of a hundred people rising from their seats was enough to give him a jist of what he was going to have to deal with from now on. In front of them, a young eunuch who sadly seemed to have gone through the voice changing period before… having things removed, coordinated the collected rise and announced His Majesty, the King, and His Highness, the Prince's arrival.
"Greetings to Your Majesty!" The Eunuch sang.
"Greetings to Your Majesty!" The crowd echoed.
The King moved down the steps and stood to the left of his seat at the head of the table. To his right was the Queen followed by the still recuperating Concubine Leena Esque and two other women from the King's Harem. To his left sat the male royal family members who were of the highest seniority such as the various Vassal Kings of the King's father's generation - notably, these Vassal King's were granted to leave their territory as they are old in age and of no threat to the King's throne. He still held the Prince in his arms as he commanded all to sit. "We welcome Our family to dine and celebrate with Us on this day. For years, this King has been wishing for a son. And it was finally on the first of this year did God bless Us with a Prince. Today, We tell you his name! For wisdom and strength, he will be first named Ulfstead. For dignity and honor, his second name is Novas. A royal child who bears the name Elio. The First Prince of Besirique! The Son of Sirav! May God bless the Prince!"
"May God bless His Highness, the Prince!"