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Cale’s eyes fluttered open as the sparkling, golden sun pierced through the large balcony windows. He shifted around the bed, absentmindedly running his hand over unwrinkled, empty spots on the blanket.
The sheets shifted as he arose—stretching his stiff neck, combing through ruffled red hair—and wondered where the children went.
His fingers stopped at the base of his hair. Feeling his forehead with his nails, the skin felt pricked, cut dully by strangely sharp nails.
Dropping his hand, he watched, with an almost blank minded shock, the elegant, veinless palm and slim fingers, adorned with red coffin nails and a wedding ring…
‘His?’
Confusion broke through the dam and suddenly new sensations, a completely different parietal and vestibular sense, made it known that, once again, he was not in his body.
It made more sense as the drowsiness quickly scurried away and realization hit that he didn’t go to sleep before this. He entered the temple of the God of Despair.
Looking around the room after minutes of stillness, he looked for any unusual signs. A hint for what alternate dimension or deceptive setting the god shoved him inside this time.
Contrary to his original need for scrutiny, ‘the strange’ wasn’t hard to find. It was everywhere. He wasn’t even in a replica of his own home.
The room was pure in color, almost angelic, and it was luxurious: gilded in gold and littered with marble decor.
It was so obnoxious that it could’ve been a palace’s bedchamber reserved for the crown prince.
…
‘Or his princess.’
He glanced at the ring finger, shackled by the luminous gold and the glittering ruby.
His pointed fingers brought his hair to his face. It was silky, sliding down between his fingers; It was long, reaching down to his hips. And it was red. Red like autumn leaves; red like perfect apples; red like his hair.
Walking to the vanity mirror felt like deja vu,
…and a fair figure stood before him.
She was no taller than he used to be. The hair cascaded down around her and a white sleeping gown clung to her body.
Cale leaned closer to the mirror to observe her face.
‘It’s as if I simply turned into a woman.’
She beheld the same red-brown eyes, the dip in the outer corner of them, the drooping eyelashes, and the wide but thin lips. Even ‘Record’ was still ongoing.
Cale was observing his new body when a butler pounded through the door.
It wasn’t Ron.
She froze, watching through the mirror any sign of suspicion from the man. Cale must’ve looked like a narcissist with the way she was examining every small detail of her image. But the butler looked at her with a reserved but unsurprised expression.
‘Hmm.’
She took a nearby hand mirror and smashed it to the ground,
“My hair is all fucked up!”
In the corner of her eye, Cale saw that, while the butler stiffened, he still made no shocked or confused expression.
‘Ha.’
It was just the same. Trashy daughter, this time.
After the butler strode away to fetch other maids, Cale went through the chests, drawers, and shelves. Sure, she may be the trash daughter of the duke,—or maybe count—but that didn’t explain why she was here, in what was most likely the palace of the Roan Kingdom.
Only jewelry, wine, and trinkets filled up the storage spaces, and Cale was left with nothing but the ring she wore for any information.
As a woman, it wasn’t strange for her to be married. But she doubted the idea that Deruth married her off, and even more so the idea that the original body fell in love (if she was anything like his former Cale).
A sinking feeling formed in her gut, but it remained dull as the idea stayed in the back of her mind; she refused to acknowledge it.
Worried murmurs came from beyond the door before it reopened.
“Cale, dear?”
‘Gods no.’
Cale slowly turned around from the tall shelf, furrowing her brows–glaring–and devastatingly (albeit internally) stared back at the smiling face of the Crown Prince Alberu.
‘...’
The cold ring rubbed her skin raw as she tightened her fists.
Alberu’s demeanor was unfamiliar. His smile was perfect, but it was small; his eyes were curved, but the light didn’t reach them; his words were sweet, but his tone was cold.
‘…This Cale must’ve done something. Or many things.’
It was a hard pill to swallow, not that he’d never hidden them under his tongue before.
The prince stood like a statue, making no move to approach her, expectant of a certain behavior that implied much of her previous character. His prejudice was so plain it would be weird for her not to keep up the act.
Cale silently cleared her throat, squashing the discomfort spreading through every fiber of her being, and bounded over to the Prince,
“Baby. The maids were to do my hair in such a way that it would be pristine when I arise, but look at it.”
Cale watched every twitch, every strained change in Alberu’s expression, and easily caught the hidden exasperation. And he wasn’t one to be so tired.
She pushed further and latched onto his arms, hiding her own twitching face.
A firm, gloved hand prevented her from doing anything more.
She turned her head to the knight who stopped her and almost dropped her jaw when she saw Choi Han.
Quickly, she turned her eyes back to Alberu, not doubting that he already sensed even the smallest amount of fear–even worse, recognition–from her.
‘He probably isn’t the Choi Han I know. These two both.’
“I will replace your maids; don’t be so disheartened.” Alberu reassured calmly, as if he was speaking to a bratty toddler.
He flashed her with his well practiced, flawless smile. It was strange seeing it with the honest intent to fool her instead of to fool around with her.
To the Prince and Knight’s astonishment, she let it go without a fight.
She didn’t have time to fit her role perfectly–this short interaction wouldn’t be enough to start suspecting her– because acting so absurdly was getting in the way of her ability to process her growing devastation...
If nobody remembered her, him, Cale Henituse, that would’ve been fine. But to have them know her with a burning bridge in between them? Not even this was a problem when he originally woke up as Cale.
‘How do I even pass the trial?’
[…]
[Query received! Formulating response…]
“What?” Cale questioned aloud, though it was received with narrowed eyes and a blatant scoff by Choi Han.
Exhaling, she quickly shut down the train of thoughts. Regardless of her situation, she knew this was a trial.
Choi Han’s calloused hand remained on her shoulder until she stepped back. Crossing her arms, she resumed complaining while watching the blue screen in the corner of her eye.
It was identical to the pop ups she experienced back as Kim Rok Soo, back in a more evolved, apocalyptic earth.
‘Is that what this bastard is up to this time? Bringing back the apocalypse to mess with me?’
She stared at Alberu’s face. Was there any stress? Fatigue? Horror? Right now, he only looked tired from her presence, but that didn’t rule out chances of lurking creatures.
‘I’ll just have to see.’
“I need to get ready. Im not even in my dress yet.” Cale looked at the clock above the double doors and gave Alberu a sickeningly sweet smile,
“We’re eating lunch together right?”
“Hm. No, I have business to attend to. But we will eat dinner together.” That was a lie.
‘Good.’
Pouting and waving, latching onto the Prince to really drive home the discomfort, Cale secured almost the rest of the day to herself. They left, and it must’ve been the former Cale’s behavior for them to immediately start mumbling as if she wouldn’t have noticed.
Cale looked around the room; there was an absence of life. No portraits, no paintings, no decor other than the luxurious candles, furniture, and curtains.
‘She knew.’
An unsettling ding echoed in her mind as if it were her own thought.
[Final Objective: Unlock your friend’s memories.]
“How?”
[Query received! Formulating response…]
‘Is this how it’s going to be every time? At least there aren’t any apocalypses.”
Cale exhaled and headed towards the room divider in the corner, where a dress rested on a nearby cushion.
It was black, and she nearly laughed.
On top of the main dress were golden frills, the bodice was embroidered with black gemstones, and the lace holes were framed with swirling gold. The details were impressive and no doubt for royalty but the overall impression, well…
The–presumably new–maids shuffled in and began to dress her. They were quiet and expressionless, if she could catch their face at all. With all of their heads down, it was hard to see. Their fingers moved the minimum amount it would take to tighten the strings; their bodies bent to the exact angle to see. Like robots, they navigated around Cale until she was fully dressed, glammed, decorated as the Crown Princess should be.
Another ding.
[Quest Details:
Fill the bar above your companions’ heads to unlock their memory.]
Cale watched her reflection in the mirror, watched the glittering jewels and loosely braided hair.
She sighed, saw the maids flinch, and carefully moved down from the step riser. Watching the “screen” infront of her, she dismissed everyone and walked out into the hall.
‘How many people do I need to “unlock”?’
‘I doubt that I have enough influence to get what I need.’
‘I don’t remember what this Cale did before I arrived. Would everyone…’
The tall, familiar white pillars stood yards from each other down the corridor. Her heels clicked sharply on the marble floor, and she breathed. It smelled of fresh flowers from all of the bouquets on the occasional hallway cabinet.
‘Right now all I need is a chat with Alberu, and I’ll see from there.’
Left from right looked the exact same, and all of the doors were dark and tall, but never more grandiose than the next.
“How do I get to his office?” She muttered to herself, before freezing when she heard someone nearby. Cale straightened her head, poised, and turned.
It was Choi Han. His face was like a stranger’s. They were the same eyes, mouth, nose, brows—but he looked at Cale with a set impression that had him staring almost distastefully. And Cale never thought she would see Choi Han like this ever. At her, ever.
She tightened her hands, calmly holding them behind her back.
“Hm, knight, could you bring me to Alberu?”
His brow twitched,
“His highness’s office is down the corridor. I can escort you.”
Choi Han offered his help with no intonation. Rather, the only intention Cale could pick up was from his hands, which were tense, and his eyes, which were narrowing.
Cale ignored the suspicion and gestured for him to show the way.
Once they got to Alberu’s office, Choi Han fumbled with the door knob. Not embarrassingly or obviously, but he grabbed it a second late from when they arrived and with the speed that indicated an alertness from stupor. Most likely from feeling bothered by Cale’s stare.
It was hard not to when she usually doesn’t see the back of Choi Han when they were walking. He gave her an eye before opening the door for her.
Resisting to avoid his gaze, she thought to get used to these changes as fast as possible while thanking him with a smile.
The office was the same. And how funny it was, telling herself to adjust to the differences when the usual sight of Alberu sitting at his desk felt so off.
There was not a single twitch of acknowledgment from him when she entered, so she stood for only a moment before settling herself down to the velvet cushions in front of the coffee table. The usual cookies weren’t there, and not even the tea set was prepared.
She fixed her hair, staring at the crown prince and planned to do so until he finished. The continuous scratching of paper made by the fountain pen was a soothing sound to listen to, until it stopped abruptly at times and became shaky at others. Cale smiled when suddenly, and finally, Alberu looked up with a quirked brow.
“Aren’t you going to ask me for something?”
“Should I not have waited for you to acknowledge me?”
The prince didn’t reply, with nothing short of disgruntledness on his face (though only she, who read him frequently, would catch), and smoothed the front of his suit.
“Yes, I should’ve done so. I apologize.”
“There is no reason to apologize.”
‘This is most likely what Cale would’ve deserved if I hadn’t replaced her.’
Alberu stood up and walked to sit on the opposing couch, noticing with a retreating hand that the tea cups were empty.
On the way to his office, Cale thought of conversing about familiar topics. Except most of their conversations before was war plans, political moves, debts, owes. Alberu here would clearly shut her down.
‘All I need to do is change my reputation once again.’
And they will be able to encounter familiar territory with no risk. Easily enough, Alberu had already mellowed out from their previous interactions.
That and filling up ‘the bar.’
Cale looked at the bar above Alberu’s head, pale and empty. On his heart was a black lock.
‘This is a bit tacky.’
“I wanted to have a chat.”
Alberu turned back to her after calling a maid to bring in some tea, questioning,
“Is there something unsatisfactory?”
“Not at all. I wanted a simple chat.”
Silence. Then, from the door, tupperware clinked against one another on a cart. She received her tea with both hands and Alberu denied a cup. The rest of the proceline plates were set on the coffee table before them.
“How was your day?” Cale asked, holding the tea close to her in order to drink in the silence, because small talk was lost on her. As much as the words ‘do you remember me?’ stayed restless on her tongue, it is evident that he doesn’t.
“I was busy.” Alberu replied, finally deciding to hold the teacup when he had nothing more to say.
“So you won’t be joining me at supper?”
“Unfortunately, no. We can eat breakfast tomorrow.”
“Really?” Cale tried to smile, tried to put hope and neediness into her voice. But it came out half monotone, clearly insincere.
“Is there truly nothing wrong?”
“Oh, you noticed my mood?” Full charm once again.
“As your fiancé, I must do my best.”
Should she jest? Bring back the familiar joke they passed? Would it even work?
“Our Roan Kingdom’s most suited, golden prince. You see me as vastly as the sun touches the world.”
The Crown Prince coughed, covered his mouth with scrunched eyes, before responding coldly,
“Hm, I have some things to get back to,” he looked back at his obviously uncluttered desk, “You should go one with your duties.”
“I don’t have any.”
He stared at her with no concern,
“There must be.”
The bar is pale and empty.
She walked outside and shut the door soundly.
Out on these familiar grounds, there was no sight of a swordmaster. Nor a butler, chef, children, no one she knew was here. There was dead silence in the halls, and she didn't—knew she couldn’t—expect someone to break it.
Cale ran a cold hand down her face, the ring jutting out and freezing on her cheek.
‘Fuck.’