The grand hall was filled with dozens of stunningly beautiful women, each dressed in highly revealing attire that left little to the imagination. Their outfits seemed intentionally designed to seduce, flaunting curves with luxurious fabrics and golden embroidery. The entire place shimmered with soft candlelight and silk curtains, and the perfume of exotic oils lingered in the air. These women were none other than the royal mistresses of King Emris.
In the center of the room stood the man in the dark coat — the royal healer — patiently waiting. The mistresses, however, were whispering amongst themselves.
"Why were we summoned?" one muttered.
"Maybe there's good news," another speculated.
"If it's about the Lord regaining consciousness, shouldn't we be with him instead of waiting here?" said a third.
Their restless chatter only stopped when the tall double doors opened. In walked two figures — the eldest and youngest of all mistresses. The room instantly quieted.
Mistress Elara, the elder one, was a powerful hybrid with silver hair and violet eyes. Her commanding presence and authority were rivaled by none. Daisy, the youngest and an elf, was breathtakingly beautiful, her soft features carrying a melancholy today.
They both walked in solemnly and shut the doors behind them. Their expressions were unusually somber, something that made the rest of the mistresses tense.
In fact, a few mistresses felt a flicker of satisfaction seeing the two most favored women appear distressed — it was a rare sight.
One among them, perhaps emboldened by curiosity or laced with sarcasm, stepped forward.
"Miss Elara, Miss Daisy," she asked sweetly, "you both look so...downcast today. May we know why?"
Without any visible irritation, Elara replied, "You will get all your answers from the healer. Please listen to him carefully."
All eyes turned toward the healer as he cleared his throat.
"As most of you don't know yet, the Lord has finally regained consciousness," he began.
Gasps followed his words, but none dared to interrupt.
"However," he continued, "Miss Elara, Miss Daisy, and I were taken aback by the questions he asked. The Lord seemed to not recognize anyone. He asked where he was... who Miss Elara and Daisy were... and how he got here."
The room stilled. No one spoke. Some stared wide-eyed in disbelief.
"We suspect," the healer continued gently, "that the injuries from his fall may have caused memory loss. It's uncertain how long it will take for him to recover. For now, we must be patient."
Several mistresses broke into tears. Others were too stunned to process it. Elara and Daisy, despite knowing this already, still looked visibly shaken.
The healer raised a hand again. "The Queen Mother and retired King have already been informed. Her Majesty has summoned all mistresses to her court. She wishes to speak with you directly."
---
Meanwhile, I sat on the massive bed in the lavish room that I now knew belonged to the man whose body I was in. I'd had some rest — enough to feel slightly less like I'd been trampled by a herd of horses.
When I tried stretching, I felt a strange heaviness. I looked down at myself... and froze.
This body wasn't mine.
I mean... this chest wasn't mine. These biceps weren't mine. These abs DEFINITELY weren't mine.
I was staring at a sculpted body that belonged more to a gladiator or a royal knight than a regular guy like me. My skin was pale — ghostly almost — and flawless.
"Nope... no way. This isn't me," I whispered, horrified.
Suddenly everything started making sense — the crying women who hugged me, the luxurious room, the way everyone kept calling me Lord.
Whoever owned this body must've been someone very important.
I looked around the room, trying to find a mirror, but weirdly enough, there wasn't one. Just when I was considering opening the door to sneak out and maybe ask questions, I paused.
What if they realized I wasn't him? What if they thought I was a threat? What if this body belonged to someone dangerous?
"Nope... think, Ruel, think. You need to act smart. Don't die on your first day in a new life," I muttered to myself.
Just as I reached the door handle, it burst open.
A woman in her fifties — regal-looking but visibly shaken — rushed in, tears streaming down her cheeks. Without warning, she grabbed my face.
"My son! Oh, my precious boy! Please say it's not true — did you really forget all of us? Look at me! I'm your mother!"
She was sobbing uncontrollably now, clutching me as though I might vanish.
I was... stunned.
I've never had a mother. I never knew what that kind of love even felt like. And now... this woman was pouring her entire soul out in front of me.
A part of me wanted to hug her. But mostly? I really needed to pee.
Also... I felt sticky all over. My body felt gross. I needed a bath.
Still, I gently held her hands.
"I... I'm sorry. I really don't remember anything," I said. "But... if you say you're my mother, then I'll believe you."
Her crying intensified.
And all I could think was:
"Okay, Ruel. You've officially woken up in a rich stranger's naked body. And now you have a mother. Also... you seriously need to pee."
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Thank you for reading...
Next chapter is going to be fun let's see if Ruel can tell anyone that he needs to pee ✨