The scent of roses lingered in the air as Newton paced in his chambers, muttering under his breath. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, grappling with the absurdity of his situation.
["A feudal society riddled with petty rivalries, and I am forced to play the role of a villainess? Preposterous."]
He stopped mid-step, staring out the window. The gardens stretched before him, lush and vibrant. Yet the beauty of the scene did little to calm his frayed nerves.
A rustle behind him made him spin around. Perched on the edge of his desk was a duck—if it could even be called that. Its sleek feathers were as black as night, shimmering faintly in the candlelight, and its amber eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity.
Newton blinked, unsure whether exhaustion had finally gotten the better of him. "And who are you supposed to be?"
The duck tilted its head, a decidedly unimpressed expression crossing its avian features. Then it spoke, its voice deep and resonant, carrying a faint echo. "I am Dani Donner, a divine being tasked with guiding you through this world, mortal."
Newton stared, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
["A talking duck. Of course. Why not? This world grows more ridiculous by the moment."]
Dani ruffled his feathers, looking at Newton as though he could hear his thoughts. "Ridiculous or not, I'm here to help you survive. The author clearly has no intention of making this easy for you."
Newton crossed his arms. "The author? You speak as if they are a tangible entity."
"They are," Dani said simply. "A cruel one, at that. They've written this world and its people to follow their narrative. But you, Isaac Newton, are the anomaly. A variable the author didn't account for. That's why I've been sent to assist you."
Newton narrowed his eyes, curiosity overtaking his disbelief. "And how do you intend to assist me?"
"By being your familiar," Dani replied, hopping down from the desk and waddling closer. "I'm bound to you now, whether you like it or not. Think of me as a guardian, a guide, and—" He paused, his beak curling into what could only be described as a smirk. "—a much-needed voice of reason."
Newton pinched the bridge of his nose.
["A divine being in the form of a duck. Wonderful. Truly, this situation could not be more absurd."]
Before Newton could respond, a knock at the door interrupted them. A servant entered, bowing deeply. "My Lady, there is… a man requesting an audience with you. He says his name is Metrus."
Newton frowned. "Metrus?"
"He's a knight, or rather, he was a knight," the servant clarified nervously. "He's fallen from grace, accused of treason. He claims he seeks your aid."
["A disgraced knight? How intriguing. This could prove useful—or disastrous."] Newton exchanged a glance with Dani, who gave an approving nod.
"Send him in," Newton said.
Moments later, a tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the room. His armor was battered, his dark cloak torn, and his face bore the weariness of someone who had seen too many battles. His piercing gray eyes locked onto Newton with an intensity that made even her borrowed body's spine straighten.
He knelt before her, bowing his head. "Lady Isadora, I am Metrus. I beg your forgiveness for intruding upon your time, but I have nowhere else to turn."
Newton regarded him carefully.
["He carries himself like a soldier, yet there's an edge of desperation in his voice. A man cornered."]
"What is it you seek from me, Sir Metrus?" Newton asked, keeping his tone cool and measured.
"I was wrongfully accused of betraying the kingdom," Metrus said, his voice firm despite the emotion behind it. "I have been cast out, my name disgraced. I only ask for a chance to prove my innocence. You are known for your… boldness. I believe you are the only one willing to hear my plea."
Dani quacked softly, muttering, "Boldness, huh? That's one way to put it."
Newton ignored the comment, his mind working quickly.
["An accused traitor seeking redemption. He may be an outcast, but outcasts are often underestimated. He could be an asset if his loyalty is genuine."]
"And why should I trust you?" Newton asked, his gaze sharp.
Metrus looked up, his expression earnest. "Because I swear on my honor, what little remains of it, that I am innocent. I was framed by those who wished to see me fall. I only ask for the chance to clear my name."
Newton studied him for a moment before nodding. "Very well, Metrus. I will hear your story in full. But understand this—if you deceive me, you will find no mercy here."
Metrus bowed his head again. "Thank you, my lady. You will not regret this."
Before Newton could delve deeper into Metrus's story, the servant reappeared, his face pale. "My Lady… Lady Alora has arrived."
Newton froze, his mind racing.
["Lady Alora? My so-called rival. This is the antagonist the author has placed in my path."]
Moments later, Lady Alora entered the room. She was breathtaking, her presence commanding the air around her. Her emerald gown clung to her figure, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like molten gold. But her eyes were cold, sharp as a blade, and they locked onto Newton with an intensity that could cut steel.
"Lady Isadora," she said, her voice smooth but laced with venom. "I hope I am not intruding."
"Not at all," Newton replied, meeting her gaze with equal determination. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Lady Alora?"
Alora's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I merely wished to discuss the matter of your… interference with my trade agreements."
Newton tilted his head.
["So she's come to confront me. A test, no doubt, to see how far I can be pushed."]
"I assure you, my lady," Newton said calmly, "any difficulties you've faced are purely coincidental. However, if you seek resolution, perhaps we can discuss terms."
Alora's smile faltered for a brief moment before returning, colder than ever. "Terms, you say? I did not take you for a diplomat, Isadora. But very well. Let us see how you fare."
As Alora took a seat, Newton couldn't help but feel the weight of her presence. She was no ordinary noblewoman—she was a force to be reckoned with.
And so was he.