As Seth and Clark entered the castle's main hall, the hum of activity abruptly ceased. Servants, caught mid-task, froze in place. Their eyes widened as they focused not on Clark but on the figure walking behind him.
The air grew heavy as recognition dawned. For a breathless moment, silence reigned, and then the staff collectively bowed, their reverence palpable.
Clark glanced at their expressions, noting a curious mix of awe and trepidation. Beneath their initial fear, there was unmistakable respect—respect that seemed to have deepened in Seth's absence.
Seth's crimson eyes swept over the hall, taking in the sight. He raised a hand, motioning for them to resume their duties. The servants immediately obeyed, though their stolen glances lingered as they cautiously returned to work.
The estate has been running well without me, Seth mused, his expression unreadable. At least outwardly.
Clark continued to lead the way toward Seth's chamber. Their journey was quiet, interrupted only by the occasional murmurs of staff passing by. But as they approached the office wing, Royfield emerged from one of the rooms. He paused mid-step, his sharp eyes locking onto Seth's form.
The head butler's normally composed expression faltered. His gaze widened, his hands trembled faintly, and his carefully maintained demeanor cracked under the weight of relief and disbelief.
"My lord…" he murmured before quickly recovering. He straightened, bowing deeply in the familiar manner of respect that masked his emotions. "Welcome back, my lord."
Still hiding your feelings so carefully, Royfield? Seth thought with faint amusement. He noticed the subtle sheen of unshed tears in Royfield's eyes, though the butler remained composed.
"What were you doing in the office so early in the morning?" Seth asked, his tone casual but probing. "Has Claire been taking to early starts as well?"
Royfield hesitated briefly before responding, "Miss Claire has been working tirelessly in your absence, my lord. I've tried to advise her against overexerting herself, but she has been quite… persistent."
Clark chuckled softly. "That sounds just like her. My sister always overdoes things when she gets invested."
Seth's gaze turned sharp, pinning Royfield with a look. "So Claire has been disobeying my orders not to overwork herself. Is that correct?"
Royfield's lips twitched into a faint smile, his tone taking on a mock-sorrowful edge. "Yes, my lord. Regrettably, Miss Claire has chosen to ignore your directives."
The playful exchange left Clark puzzled. He looked between them, confused by their shared understanding. Whatever agreement his sister had with Lord Arlecia, it was clearly beyond his knowledge.
Seth finally broke the tension. "You may leave now, Clark," he said. "I'll continue to my chamber with Royfield."
Clark bowed, still uncertain. "Of course, Lord Arlecia." He stepped back, watching as Royfield and Seth moved past him.
"Is Claire sleeping now?" Seth asked as they walked.
"Yes, my lord," Royfield replied smoothly. "She finally took a nap after staying up most of the night."
Seth's expression darkened slightly, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his crimson eyes. "So, she's become a night owl in my absence. Very well. We'll discuss her punishment later." He glanced sidelong at Royfield. "For now, take me to my chamber and give me a full report of the estate's status."
"As you wish, my lord," Royfield said with a respectful bow.
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In his chamber, Seth lay on the bed, staring at the ornate ceiling as the soft fabric of his bedding surrounded him. He gestured for Royfield, his ever-dutiful butler, to approach.
"Royfield, tell me," Seth began, his tone calm but edged with curiosity. "How much time has passed since I lost consciousness?"
Royfield's expression tightened, though his voice remained steady. "Seven weeks, my lord. It has been seven weeks since you fell unconscious."
Seth bolted upright, his silver hair falling over his eyes as he moved. "Seven weeks?" he repeated in disbelief. "Are you joking, Royfield?"
"My apologies, my lord," Royfield said, bowing slightly. "But I assure you, this is no jest. Seven weeks have passed since you lost consciousness."
Seth ran a hand through his hair, his crimson eyes narrowing in thought. "I didn't expect the time gap to be so vast. It felt like mere moments in the astral realm." He sighed and leaned back against the headboard. "I must have missed a great deal. Tell me, have I lost anything important?"
"Not at all, my lord," Royfield replied with a calm confidence. "Miss Claire has performed her duties excellently in your absence. The estate has been managed with remarkable efficiency."
Seth nodded but noticed a flicker of hesitation in Royfield's demeanor. "Out with it, Royfield. You've more to say, haven't you?"
Royfield hesitated before speaking, his tone quieter. "My lord, may I ask what happened to you? That time, your body was cold, unresponsive… as if you were dead."
Seth studied his butler for a moment before a playful smirk crept onto his face. "Do you want to hear the truth or a convenient lie?"
The question caught Royfield off guard. He straightened, his eyes betraying his curiosity even as he tried to maintain composure. Before he could retreat from his inquiry, Seth relented.
"Very well, I'll tell you the truth," Seth said, his tone suddenly serious. "My soul was mistakenly taken by a spirit from the astral realm."
Royfield's brow furrowed. "The astral realm… My lord, is that even possible? To survive and return from such a place?"
"I'm not sure myself," Seth admitted, his voice calm but thoughtful. "This was my first time there, and it was… enlightening, to say the least. As for how I ended up there, Clark's soul was meant to be taken. I interfered, and the creature took me instead."
Royfield's reaction was subtle but telling. A flicker of tension crossed his features before he regained his composure. "The astral realm…" he repeated, his tone measured. "I've read about it in ancient texts, but I never imagined it truly existed."
Lie, Seth thought to himself, smirking. He'd read about Royfield's background in the novel and knew the butler was a member of the infamous Seven Shadows, a cult once commanded by the enigmatic Shadow Eye. Their connection to the spirit world—and the astral realm—was undeniable. Still, Seth chose not to press the issue. For now.
Like Zasha said, Seth thought, the astral realm is dangerous. It's home to the underworld and even the master's palace. Returning from there is no simple feat.
Royfield bowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "Thank you for sharing, my lord. I will keep this knowledge in confidence."
Seth dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand. "Enough of that. Since Claire has managed things well, has anything concerning arisen with the estate?"
"Nothing of significance, my lord. Everything remains under control."
"Good," Seth said, reclining once more. "You're dismissed, Royfield."
"As you wish, my lord," Royfield said, bowing deeply before stepping back and leaving the chamber.
Alone, Seth stared up at the intricately carved ceiling, his mind awash with thoughts.
There's so much more to this world than the novel described, he mused. Zasha's revelations had opened a door to knowledge Seth hadn't anticipated, leaving him with more questions than answers.
What is the true origin of this world?
Why was I brought here?
The questions churned in his mind, unrelenting. According to Zasha, the master of the Gray Palace had also been summoned to this world, their circumstances eerily similar to Seth's. Yet, unlike Seth, the master was a god-like being, their power vast and their influence unquestionable.
And then there were the twelve mysterious seats. Zasha had mentioned them briefly, describing their occupants as individuals blessed with the master's power. Each seat represented an immense force, and the power dynamics they created intrigued Seth.
Finally, there was the Red Gate. When Seth had asked Zasha about it, the creature had seemed confused. Yet the Red Gate was central to the novel's major events, a phenomenon that summoned swarms of abyssal creatures. It was disturbingly similar to the apocalyptic events Seth had witnessed in his previous life.
Closing his eyes, Seth let out a slow breath. "How should I proceed now?" he murmured to himself, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.
The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—Seth would need to tread carefully if he hoped to unravel the mysteries surrounding this world and his place within it.