Pain.
A dull, throbbing ache at the base of his skull. His limbs felt like someone had stuffed them with bricks, and the smell of incense was so strong it was practically committing a crime against his nostrils.
His eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was a ceiling far too extravagant for his liking.
Red silk. Gold embroidery. Some fancy-ass dragon motifs.
It was the kind of ceiling that screamed, "Congratulations, you have either transmigrated into a rich noble's life or a very elaborate hostage situation."
Spoiler alert: It was the second one.
He took a fraction of second to regain his control over himself. The inertia was high but he tried to move only to hear the metallic clink of chains. His wrists were bound to an ornate wooden headboard by golden shackles, smooth and cold against his skin.
Okay, breathe. Let's assess the situation.
He turned his head to one side to look around the posh place. He eyes fell on a polished bronze mirror across the room and almost screamed.
Staring back at him was a stranger's face.
Smooth, pale skin. Sharp, elegant features. The kind of beauty that made poets write tragic verses.
"…F_ck," he muttered under his breath.
The recent memories weren't there. His mind was a blank slate, and all he knew was one thing-
This was not his body.
"Your Highness, you are awake."
The voice nearly made him jump. Whipping his head around, he found a eunuch standing by the bed. The man dressed in muted grays, his head lowered in perfect servitude.
Your Highness?
Oh. Great. Not only was he kidnapped, but he was apparently some kind of royal hostage.
The eunuch didn't wait for a response. "His Highness seeks your presence. "
Another his Highness?
Before he could say something truly inappropriate, the doors swung open with a heavy creak.
A procession of guards filed in, forming two rigid lines, like they were welcoming some kind of god.
And then he walked in.
The Crown Prince.
Tall. Regal. Robed in deep crimson, embroidered with golden dragons. A jade belt at his waist, a sword strapped at his hip, and eyes as cold as winter after a massacre.
Welp. He's hot.
That was an issue.
"Leave us," the Crown Prince commanded, voice smooth yet absolute.
The attendants scurried away like frightened rabbits, leaving only him and this dangerously good-looking tyrant in the estranged chamber.
The Crown Prince's gaze swept over him like one might inspect a prisoner of war. His golden eyes lingered on the golden chains, then flickered up to meet his.
"You will not insult my intelligence, Prince Ling."
Oh cool, I have a new name.
Too bad he had zero clue what this body had done to piss off this man.
Keeping his expressions perfectly controlled, he lowered his gaze in practiced submission. He could act, after all.
"This humble prince does not understand—"
A sharp click interrupted him, the sound of a jade ring tapping against a sword hilt.
The Crown Prince stepped forward.
"Enough."
Wow. Someone has an attitude problem.
But the smart thing to do? Shut up. Look remorseful. Do not die.
He exhaled slowly. "Your Majesty, this prince may have suffered a head injury. If I have acted against Your Majesty's will before, allow me to—"
"Is that so?" The Crown Prince tilted his head.
That tone. That dangerously amused tone.
He had no idea what kind of history this body had with the Crown Prince, but it had to be bad.
He rolled his eyes, not visibly, but in his mind. He had to go through this stranger-stranger thing once again.
The metal clattered onto the silk sheets.
With a single motion, the Crown Prince unclasped the chains.
"If your mind is truly fogged," the Crown Prince said, his voice low and dangerous, "then I shall help you remember your place."
The Crown Prince took one step forward.
He gulped loudly, Oh boy. That did not sound fun.
"Rise."
Swallowing, he pushed himself up, his instincts screaming, 'play along'. Feeling the silk robe shift dangerously down his shoulders, he quickly pulled it up before it revealed anything inappropriate.
The Crown Prince's lips twitched slightly.
"Kneel."
He almost choked.
Kneel?
Alright. Maybe this body had done something really horrendous before.
His pride flared for a moment but he crushed it.
With measured grace, he lowered himself onto both knees, his back straight, his hands resting perfectly in his lap.
The Crown Prince studied him for a long moment, as if waiting for him to slip up.
But he played the role of a submissive man really well. His movements graceful and gentle, fitting his status of a prince. His head bowed obediently in front of so called crown prince who, he knew, was judging his every step.
"Good."
The prince exhaled softly.
I live another day.
But just as he relaxed, the Crown Prince leaned down, his fingers grazing along his jawline.
"I will call for you again," the Crown Prince murmured. "Do not keep me waiting, Ling A'Xian."
Ling A'Xian.
His name.
And just like that, the Crown Prince was gone.
The doors slammed shut. A long silence stretched.
Ling A'Xian exhaled sharply, rubbing his wrists where the golden chains had been.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "So I'm apparently a hostage prince, I may or may not have pissed off the hottest ruler in the empire, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here."
He groaned, falling back onto the bed.
"…I swear to the heavens, if this is another world- transmigrating punishment, I am suing whatever cosmic bastard sent me here."
But deep in his chest, something stirred.
The Crown Prince's touch. His gaze.
Geez- why the hell am I calling him hot!!?