" Prince Lan , I will repeat the question again,
Will you , the first prince of the Agreya kingdom, son of Montreal the second and rightful heir to the throne take the lady Hazel Marjorie as your sixth wife ? To love till you're both the dust , and to love more still when you come into the afterlife? " the voice of an elderly woman rang in the ears of Boris Web .
As his eyes cleared and his mind started to settle down , a barrage of memories came down on him like a surging ocean wave . He saw a blinding flash of light from a top a tall high rise building while he was seated in the back of his presidential limousine car headed to a political rally to quell a case of civil unrest. When the light dimmed , he was just able to make out the image of a sniper in military uniform who had marked him in his sights. The flash of light came from the scope of the rifle as its aim was being adjusted and before Boris had had the time to duck beneath the car seat for cover , the trigger was pulled. His heart was shot and he lost consciousness on the spot .
" Just say yes , like we practiced , and everything will be okay " the muffled voice came from directly in front of him , taking him by surprise. It was a young lady in a wedding gown , holding a bouquet of pink tulips with both hands. Her eyes were fixated on him , burning with suppressed anxiety.
He immediately looked away , turning to his right , and was even more shocked to see an entire congregation looking at him. He saw that they were all in a building whose interior bore close resemblance to a church , and that he was on an elevated podium lit up brighter than the rest of the room with side mounted candles and chandeliers. Next to him was the girl who looked like a bride and to his left , was an elderly woman draped in white robes decorated in silk and seemingly the finest gold money could buy . She stood between them , holding both of their hands in hers , which felt surprisingly warm and well tended to.
Intentionally , she tightened the grip on Boris' hand to draw his attention.
" Yes, " the words came out of him without his knowing.
The anxiety on the girl's face left her and she sighed quietly . The elderly woman proceeded to bring both of their hands together and then let go when they held. She took off the white scarf wrapped around her neck and used it to lightly wrap both of their hands together.
" Then it is with the power bestowed upon me by the crown that I , Priestess Agar of the house of Nalat , now pronounce the both of you as man and wife. You will each bear a lifelong responsibility to each other , to comfort and to protect. I bless this union , it is never to be..." Priestess Agar's words were lost to Boris as another flood of memories entered his mind.
This second wave of memories was not his , but as it kept coming , it became more and more familiar to him. His initial memories as Boris Web started feeling alien , like a distant dream he had just awoken from. The name Boris , the person whom he had always been since birth , now felt like something that didn't belong to him. All of his life , all he had learned and everything he had accomplished seemed like a distant fantasy left behind in a far away land that was never his. He now saw himself as prince Lan Montreal , and even though he had never lived the life , felt like he knew everything about him and the life the prince had lived ever since birth.
The mental load took a toll on him as he struggled with the split personality trying to force a new awareness inside of him. His legs started loosing strength making him shake weakly. A sharp migraine shot up his brain and he would have fallen of his feet hadn't the girl in front of him rushed to his rescue by quickly embracing him in a tight hug , a concealed attempt to support his body weight.
" You have to remain strong Lan , or you'll loose the kingdom by tomorrow ," she whispered to him , struggling to hold up his heavy body.