Marcus's PoV
The sun had barely risen, casting a pale light over the Grand Duke's council room. The meeting droned on, but Marcus Aurelius wasn't paying much attention. His mind was still lost in the dark echoes of the dream that had haunted him the night before.
He tried to focus, but the council members' voices sounded distant, like they were underwater. Their words washed over him without sinking in, as if his mind was refusing to engage with the present.
**"You're not ready to know the truth yet."**
The phrase kept repeating in his head, sending a chill down his spine. What truth? And why was it linked to his most painful memories from his past life?
"Your Grace?" a voice cut through the fog in his mind. Marcus blinked, his gaze snapping to Viscountess Seraphine, who had inherited her title under his reign. She was watching him with a mix of concern and amusement.
"I said," she repeated with a teasing smile, "if you keep zoning out like this, we'll start thinking you don't care about the future of your duchy."
Marcus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sorry, Seraphine. Just... didn't sleep well."
"Nightmares?" she asked, her tone softening slightly. The others in the room had turned back to their discussions, leaving the two of them momentarily out of the spotlight.
"Something like that," he muttered.
Seraphine raised an eyebrow but didn't push further. "Well, don't worry. We've got things under control—at least until you fall asleep in your chair. Then I'll take over as Grand Duchess, of course."
Despite himself, Marcus chuckled, the tension easing just a bit. Seraphine had a knack for lightening the mood, even when things seemed grim.
"If I fall asleep, you'll probably burn the place down," Marcus teased back, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not sure that's the kind of leadership we need right now."
"Hey!" she feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over her heart. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent leader. I just prefer setting things on fire metaphorically. Most of the time."
He shook his head with a small smile, the banter helping to clear some of the fog that had been clouding his mind. But even as they joked, he couldn't fully shake the weight that had settled on his chest.
As the meeting continued, Marcus did his best to focus. Discussions about the duchy's income, the upcoming harvests, and the state of the new guild filled the room. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to that dream. The darkness, the voices, the pain he had felt so vividly. It gnawed at him, refusing to let go.
By the time the meeting ended, Marcus felt more drained than when it had started. The moment the last council member left, he stood up, desperate for some air.
"I need to clear my head," he muttered to no one in particular, though Seraphine caught his words as she stood by the door.
"You sure you're okay, Marcus?" she asked, her tone more serious now. "You seem... distracted."
Marcus hesitated, considering whether to tell her about the dream. But he decided against it. There was no point worrying her—or anyone—about something that might be nothing more than a nightmare. He could hardly explain the strange fusion of his two lives, let alone the cryptic message he had received in his sleep.
"I'm fine," he said, forcing a reassuring smile. "Just need some fresh air. Don't burn anything down while I'm gone."
Seraphine rolled her eyes but grinned. "I'll do my best."
With that, Marcus left the room, his footsteps echoing in the silent corridors as he made his way outside. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of pine from the forests beyond the castle. It helped, a little. But the unease still lingered, clinging to him like a shadow.
He walked through the bustling streets of his territory, watching the people go about their day. Some nodded to him in respect, while others whispered praises about the improvements he had brought to their lives—the food shortage solved, the guild offering new opportunities, hope beginning to bloom in a land that had been starved of it for so long.
But Marcus barely heard any of it. His thoughts kept circling back to the dream, to the door he had walked through and the darkness that had swallowed him whole.
**"You're not ready to know the truth yet."**
What truth? And why now? He had enough on his plate without mysterious voices haunting his sleep.
As he strolled through the marketplace, Marcus tried to push the thoughts aside. He forced himself to engage with the world around him, to smile and nod at the merchants and townspeople who greeted him. But deep down, the tension remained.
No matter how hard he tried, the dream's message wouldn't leave him alone. And the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if there was something lurking beneath the surface of his life—something he wasn't seeing yet.
The truth, whatever it was, was out there. And eventually, it would find him.