Grégoire's consciousness surfaced. He opened his eyes and saw an unfamiliar room. He rubbed them, noticing the sudden heaviness in his head.
"Hello?" he called out.
He heard the door opening. As soon as the sound reached his ears, he instinctively backed into a corner of the room.
"Damn it, Master Will. You finally woke up," a flat female voice said. "I thought you'd be out for longer. At least that way the peace would have lasted a little more."
The door opened fully. A young woman in a maid uniform stepped in. She had long jet-black hair and dark bluish-purple eyes. She looked at Grégoire with mean, exhausted eyes and leaned against the doorframe.
"So... feel any better?"
She noticed him cowering in the corner like a scared animal and laughed.
"What's wrong? You scared of me or something?"
She gave him a disgusting, perverted grin-the kind creeps give.
Grégoire, unsettled by her stare, stuttered in confusion.
"N-no. I just wasn't expecting such a fast appearance, is all."
She scowled.
""Is all. You sound stupid. What's wrong with you? Why are you so wimpy all of a sudden?"
Grégoire grew frustrated. He had no idea why this woman was being so hostile toward him.
"Um... okay then."
He looked around the room. It was well-built, like a nobleman's house. The architecture and overall appearance surprised him.
"Where is this? Are we in some sort of hospital? A fancy hospital?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Is this some kind of trick to get me into your bed? This is a new low, even for you, William."
She sighed and looked at him with disappointment.
"Why do you keep calling me Will or William? That isn't my name, young miss."
She smacked him on the forehead and watched his reaction.
He flinched. She hit him again, her eyes filled with curiosity.
"Master William, are you okay?"
She struck him harder than before.
"Who is William? I don't know who he is. I'm not William. My name is Grégoire Lemarchand!"
He stepped back, voice tense and confused, and covered his face to avoid another hit.
"You'd normally be yelling insults at me right now.."
She lifted his head and inspected him, gripping his chin.
"My name is Charlie. Do you remember that name at all?"
Her tone was curious, almost amused by his behavior.
"I don't. I don't know who you are. I have no memory of you or this place. I'm sorry."
"Are you being honest? Because if you're lying, I'll break your leg."
Grégoire slipped out of her grip.
"I am. I really don't know who you are or where this is. I don't know who William is."
"You're William. William Whitlock. Son of Arno Whitlock."
She looked uncomfortable as she said it.
"No. My name is Grégoire Lemarchand."
Charlie's eyes widened, but the reaction vanished quickly. She sat on the bed Grégoire had woken up in and looked at him directly.
"I guess you weren't lying back then. The mana incident must have done something to you. That's why you're like this."
Grégoire sat down beside her. She immediately shoved him off the bed, glaring as if his closeness disgusted her.
"Not happening. You've been out for two weeks. I don't want your filth on me-or anywhere near me."
Grégoire stood back up, confused and hurt, wincing from the pain.
"Why are you so rude to me? I haven't done anything to you. What can I do to make you trust me? I don't understand you at all."
Charlie shot him another ugly look, as if his question was painfully obvious.
"I am who I am, and that means I'm the most elegant flower around. I wouldn't want any insects ruining this beauty."
Grégoire just stared at her, his expression saying everything words didn't.