The air tasted fresh. The warm ray of sunlight enveloping my skin as I walked besides Liona. Honestly, I felt like a dwarf next to her. She was a head taller than me. Her posture was straight, there were no weaknesses.
"So," Her voice was clipped. "What exactly did you dream about during the two years that you were asleep?" She asked.
"I would rather... Not talk about it" I gave her a clear answer.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Fine, I won't pry."
I wasn't expecting that. I thought she would draw her blade and demand answers.
"Many thanks." Still, I couldn't let my guard down.
—Woof woof!
I turned to see a small dog running towards us. Liona knelt to its level and scooped it up gently.
She turned to look at me, glaring.
I get it! I won't touch it or anything. Stop looking at me like I'm a psychopath!
"What's its name?" I asked, curious.
"Why? Suddenly interested in the dog you despised so much you had to kick?" Her eyes narrowed.
Sorreeel!!!
"…Just curious."
"Tia. Its name is Tia." Her voice softened, letting the 'strict' fall from her voice for once. But of course, it wasn't for long.
"The servants must have informed His Majesty that you had awoken. You should visit him."
Knight commander or not, even she tread lightly when the emperor was concerned.
---[line break]
We reached the doors that loomed tall enough to swallow me whole. The doors that will lead to the highest authority in this kingdom.
"Commander of The Imperial Knights—Liona Volt, escorting The Third Prince—Sorrel Valdren, would like to humbly request Your Majesty's permission to enter the room."
I noticed a drop of sweat on her face. It seemed like the emperor was the only person she's scared of.
"Enter." The voice from within sounded like a harsh storm.
Liona's hand tightened on the handle before she pulled it open. The wood groaned.
"Sorrel, my son."
I was greeted by a young-looking man...?
He was lean, with the sharp, contained energy of a rapier rather than a broadsword, His green eyes were befitting of an emperor.
He looked in Liona's way to say,
"Leave us, Volt." He said without sparing her a second glance.
Before turning to the door to leave, she bowed at the emperor. She then closed the door gently—It seems she knew the way she opened the door was too loud and disrespectful.
The Emperor's attention quickly turned to me as if I was a prey trying to escape from the predator.
"So, who are you?"
The air thickened. My bones felt like they were about to break under an invisible weight—worse than when I first woke.
So this is what made Liona sweat.
I forced my posture straight, swallowing the urge to collapse.
"I am Sorrel Valdren, The Third Prince, and your son." I answered.
His eyes scanned me head to toe. Seconds passed by before the pressure lifted.
I exhaled silently.
"Did you sleep well?" His lips curved, humorless.
"It was a splendid sleep, sir." My voice cracked slightly, but I held his gaze.
"I am thrilled to hear that you've woken" Was he, though?
"It seems my memory is… still unclear," I admitted carefully.
"What do you remember clearly?"
"Nothing."
...
For a moment, shock flickered across his face. Then he recovered.
"Naturally. You were struck on the head."
Struck? By who—
—Knock knock
"The Second Prince, Ranchael Valdren, requests permission to enter."
He sounded quite young. But wait, Ranchael Valdren? I've heard of that name before. He's one of the side characters from [How To Save The World]. Could it be—I'm really inside a novel!?
But… something didn't add up.
In the story, there was no "Sorrel—The Third Prince." I wasn't a protagonist, or even a villain.
Which means either the author left out a whole royal son, or I'm just an extra.
Great. I can forget about the original plot now. Being a royalty, I must have had an impact on the story already.
The Emperor's jaw tightened. "You may not enter. I am speaking with your brother."
"Yes, sir." Ranchael's voice was smooth, but I couldn't hear his footsteps. He was waiting outside, eavesdropping.
The emperor turned back to me. "Rest, Sorrel. Try to remember what you can."
"Yes, sir."
I bowed and left.
Ranchael stood waiting, His blond hair fell around his neck. It was neither short nor long. He was around the same height as me. His lips curled into a mock-apology, "Seems I hit you too hard. My apologies."
Not sorry at all.
"You don't have to, brother." The words slipped out bitter.
I brushed past him, my eyes already set on the resting Liona.
"Hello, Miss-Scared-Of-The-Emperor~" I said, teasingly.
She glared daggers through me. Yep. I lost that one.