(Marcus's PoV)
Marcus stood before the heavy oak door to his office, his heart still pounding from the whirlwind of emotions he had just faced. The memories of his old life—the exams, the accident, the gunshot—still lingered like a haze over his mind. But now, the reality of his new existence pressed down on him. He had no choice but to confront it.
He was not a heartless man who could ignore thousands of life being at risk just because he couldn't get his act up. He had to be Marcus Aurelius, Grand Duke of the Solstern Empire.
Taking a deep breath, Marcus tried to steady his racing heart. His hands, though still slightly trembling, grasped the door handle. He was no longer just the man who had once lived a simple life, worried about exams and everyday concerns. Now, he had responsibilities that extended far beyond anything he could have imagined. A duchy on the verge of collapse, a sister he couldn't remember, and a looming threat from monsters at the borders. And there was no one else who could step into the role but him.
He paused for a moment, allowing the memories of this new life to settle within him. The knowledge he had gained since waking up in this body was becoming more natural, slowly blending with his own thoughts. He now knew the layout of the grand duchy, the names of the knights, and the faces of the advisors. He even understood the politics of the empire, the bitter feud between the Grand Duchy and the imperial family. But despite all this knowledge, there was one glaring absence: **his new family**.
No matter how much he tried to recall the faces of his parents and sister, they remained elusive, like ghosts at the edge of his mind. He could sense their importance, could feel the weight of the grief he was supposed to carry after their sudden deaths, but their faces were a blank canvas. His connection to them was hollow.
**Why can't I remember them?**
The thought gnawed at him as he pushed open the door and entered the office. The room was large, lined with shelves of books and maps of the duchy. The scent of old parchment and polished wood greeted him, giving the space an air of authority. This was where Marcus Aurelius made decisions that shaped the lives of thousands.
**And now, it's where I will, too.**
Behind a wide, ornate desk sat several reports, letters, and documents that had piled up during his absence. His eyes swept across them, but none of the words registered. His mind was still too scattered, too raw from the collision of two lives.
As he stood there, trying to gather himself, the door creaked open behind him.
"Your Grace," came the familiar, firm voice of Captain Armand, his chief knight. Marcus turned to face the man, whose expression remained as stoic as ever. "I understand it may be difficult with everything that has happened, but we cannot delay any longer. The situation at the northern borders is worsening, and the people are growing restless. They need their Grand Duke."
Marcus swallowed hard, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders once more. He felt like a man who had been thrown into the deep end of a freezing lake, forced to swim without knowing how. But he couldn't afford to panic now. He had to act. He had to at least try to be the leader these people needed.
"Captain," Marcus began, surprised at how steady his voice sounded, "what's the latest report from the northern borders?"
Armand stepped forward and laid a sealed envelope on the desk. "The monsters have breached several villages, and the local militias are struggling to hold them off. With winter fast approaching, the citizens are also suffering from severe shortages of food and supplies. We need to take immediate action to prevent further losses."
Marcus nodded, though inside, his mind reeled at the enormity of it all. Monsters. Starving citizens. A land on the brink of collapse. He had no experience with any of this in his old life, but Marcus Aurelius did. And those memories, hazy as they were, stirred within him. He reached for them, hoping they would guide him through this.
Slowly, the knowledge began to surface. He knew the strategic points of the duchy, the towns most vulnerable to monster attacks, and the names of key advisors who could help him. He even remembered bits and pieces of old strategies his predecessor—his father—had used to fend off the monster invasions.
But the one thing that still felt like a black hole in his mind was his family. His parents were dead, but they should have left a mark on him, memories, emotions. He should have felt something. And his sister—he couldn't even remember her name, let alone her face. How could he protect a family he couldn't recall?
"I will address the situation immediately," Marcus finally said, snapping himself out of his spiraling thoughts. "But first, tell me about my sister. Is she… well?"
The question seemed to catch Armand off guard. The captain hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "Your Grace… Lady Eleanor has been under the care of Lady Myra, as per your instructions. After your parents passed, she has been—"
"Eleanor," Marcus whispered the name, hoping it would spark something, some recognition in his mind. But there was nothing. The name meant nothing to him. How could it be possible that he remembered the structure of the duchy, the strategies of battle, and even political nuances, yet not the face of his own sister?
Armand looked at him carefully, clearly sensing something was amiss. "If you wish, I can arrange for you to see her."
Marcus's first instinct was to refuse. How could he face a girl—**his sister**—whose existence he could barely grasp? How could he pretend to comfort her, to guide her, when he felt like a stranger in this life? But he knew he couldn't avoid her forever. He had responsibilities to her, to the duchy, and to this body he now inhabited.
"Later," Marcus said, his voice firm. "For now, we focus on the northern border."
Armand bowed his head. "As you wish, Your Grace. I will summon the council and prepare the necessary reports."
Once the captain left the room, Marcus collapsed into the chair behind the desk, rubbing his temples. His mind was still trying to process everything. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, but it was the gaping hole where his family memories should be that troubled him the most. Why couldn't he remember them?
He stared down at the documents scattered across the desk, maps of the duchy and letters from concerned officials. The reality of his new life felt overwhelming, and for a moment, Marcus wondered if he could truly handle it. Could he really be the Grand Duke these people needed? Could he protect the duchy from monsters, keep the empire's political schemes at bay, and care for a sister whose face he couldn't even picture?
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He had to trust the memories he did have, however incomplete they felt. He had to play the part of Marcus Aurelius until it no longer felt like an act.
With trembling hands, he picked up the first document and began to read.
A.N:- ** ** means his inner thoughts