"Hold on… isn't this a bit…"
Aden stepped out of his room, the ornate purple door clicking shut behind him. The rich, polished floor gleamed underfoot, reflecting the soft glow of enchanted lanterns that lined the hallway. His footsteps faltered as his eyes landed on the butler standing just ahead, waiting with his usual poised and polished demeanor.
'Provocative.'
Aden's face burned as he caught the faintest flicker of surprise in the butler's golden eyes. Though the man's expression remained composed, Aden could swear he noticed the butler's gaze linger briefly on his attire—the backless tunic and the audaciously placed cutout at the stomach.
'He's definitely judging me,' Aden thought grimly, tugging instinctively at the edge of his sleeve, as though that could somehow shield him from the unwanted scrutiny. It didn't. The outfit left little to the imagination, and the weight of the butler's silent appraisal made Aden's skin prickle with heat.
'I feel like a hooker,' he thought, stifling the urge to groan.
Behind him, the soft shuffle of Cashew's footsteps drew his attention. Aden turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of the boy's sweet, shy smile. Cashew looked perfectly comfortable in his modest violet tunic and simple trousers. The fabric was functional and tailored neatly to fit him—not flashy, not revealing, just… normal.
'Why couldn't I wear something like that?' Aden wondered bitterly. Or better yet, the butler's crisp, practical uniform. Anything would have been better than this absurd outfit, designed as if its sole purpose was to draw every pair of eyes in the room.
'God. Please, why is this happening to me?'
Aden swallowed hard, his fingers brushing against the intricate lace that draped from his sleeves. Every detail of the ensemble—the shimmering golden embroidery, the delicate beading, the way the fabric clung to his frame—seemed deliberately crafted to make him stand out.
His exposed back felt vulnerable against the cool air, and the cutout at his stomach made him hyperaware of every slight breeze.
The butler cleared his throat delicately, snapping Aden out of his spiraling thoughts. "Your Highness," he began, his voice steady and formal, though Aden swore he detected the faintest hesitation in his tone, "shall I escort you to the hall?"
'Do I have a choice?' Aden thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded stiffly, squaring his shoulders in a futile attempt to mask his discomfort. "Yes. Let's go," he said, though his voice lacked the conviction of someone used to giving orders.
The butler gave a slight bow before turning to lead the way. His movements were graceful, purposeful, as if he had done this routine a thousand times before.
As Aden followed, he caught Cashew's soft, encouraging smile again out of the corner of his eye. For a brief moment, it eased some of the tension coiled in his chest. The boy wasn't judging him, at least. If anything, Cashew's expression seemed to suggest this attire was entirely normal—at least for whoever Aden was supposed to be.
'This is just how it is,' Aden realized. It didn't make him feel any better.
Still, as he trailed after the butler, he couldn't stop the thought from circling in his mind.
'What kind of prince wears something like this?'
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
For the ten minutes Aden walked behind the butler, who led him through the labyrinthine halls of the palace, he quietly observed and learned a few things.
First, the butler's name was Lucius. Aden only found this out because several maids and knights they passed greeted Lucius with utmost respect, bowing or murmuring, "Good day, Sir Lucius," as they passed.
'So, not just any butler,' Aden noted.
Second, the servants gave Aden peculiar looks—none of them good. Some glared at him with barely concealed disdain, while others regarded him with pity that made his stomach churn.
'That's not a good sign,' Aden thought, his unease growing with every step. 'Whoever I am, I'm definitely not well-liked.'
It made him wonder: Was this one of those stories where the protagonist reincarnates as the villain? It seemed likely, given the mix of disdain and pity directed his way. Still, something didn't quite fit. Villains were supposed to be intimidating, right?
Yet Cashew didn't seem scared of him, and Lucius carried himself with the quiet authority of someone who wouldn't tolerate being pushed around—not even by a prince like the one Aden was inhabiting.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Aden confirmed he was in a fantasy world. It was a realm vastly different from Earth, filled with magic and creatures he could have never imagined.
As they walked, Aden did his best to keep his expression neutral, but it was hard to hide his awe. The chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceilings emitted a soft, magical glow, and outside the massive windows, he caught glimpses of incredible sights: birds with glittering scales soared through the sky, their wings shimmering like gemstones. Beyond the palace grounds, rolling hills dotted with unusual, glowing flora stretched into the horizon.
It was breathtaking.
'Kaz would have loved this,' Aden thought wistfully. His sister, with her endless love for fantastical worlds, would have been thrilled to find herself in a place like this.
After what felt like an eternity of walking, Lucius finally stopped. Aden looked ahead and immediately felt the weight of intimidation settle on his chest.
A massive door loomed before them, its surface dark and glossy like polished obsidian. Two imposing knights stood guard on either side, their heavy armor gleaming under the magical light.
But Aden wasn't focused on the knights. His attention was locked on the door itself.
'This is… obsidian,' he realized, his mind flashing back to his college days when he used to play Craft Mines, a game where players could mine and craft items. Obsidian was a prized material in that game, and the resemblance was uncanny.
Lucius stepped forward, his voice cutting through Aden's thoughts. "I have brought Prince Florian Thornfield."
The knights didn't speak. They simply stepped aside, bowing their heads in unison.
'Florian?' Aden thought, the name echoing in his mind. 'That's my name? Or—well, this body's name?'
The name stirred something deep in his memory. It felt oddly familiar, as if he'd come across it before—but he couldn't quite place where.
Lucius raised his hand, drawing Aden's attention to the ring on his finger. The ring, which Aden hadn't noticed until now, held a small chunk of obsidian. As Lucius moved his hand, the obsidian began to glow faintly, and with a soft rumble, the intricate locks on the massive door clicked open.
Aden stared, amazed, as the door slowly creaked open, revealing the grandeur within.
"Let us go before His Majesty arrives," Lucius said, his tone calm but firm. "Best not be late...he seems agitated today than ever."
Aden hesitated for a moment, but eventually stepped forward, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the chamber ahead. Just as he passed the threshold, he realized something was off.
He turned and saw that Cashew had stopped just outside the doorway, his small frame hesitant and still.
"You're not coming?" Aden asked, his brow furrowed.
Cashew's eyes widened, clearly startled by the question. Even Lucius looked momentarily surprised, though he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.
'What? Did I say something weird?' Aden wondered, glancing between the two. 'Are servants not allowed in this room?'
"He's not coming, Your Highness," Lucius explained with a measured tone. "You know that when the harem is summoned, only the harem is permitted to enter."
'There it is again… the harem.' The word made Aden's stomach twist uncomfortably. 'Do I… have a harem?'
"Oh… okay," Aden replied awkwardly. He turned to Cashew and gave a small wave. "See you later, then."
Cashew hesitated, clearly unsure how to respond. Slowly, he lifted a hand and waved back, his expression still tinged with confusion.
As the doors closed behind him with a soft thud, Aden felt the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders.
'Well, here we go,' he thought grimly. 'Let's see what kind of mess I'm walking into.'
"Well, well...look who decided to join us." A female voice spoke, though her tone wasn't pleasant. "The only one in this harem that the king still hasn't summoned privately.'
'Excuse me?'
"Prince Florian."