Hellen's eyes fluttered open to the glow of sunlight filtering through silk curtains.
The bed beneath him was impossibly soft, the sheets smelling faintly of lavender.
Warmth pressed against his legs — Momo, curled up and breathing gently, tail twitching in a dream.
Relief washed over him.
You're safe… he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he stroked her fur.
But then it hit him.
This was not his cramped, peeling-ceiling room back home.
The walls were lined with golden patterns, a chandelier swayed lightly overhead, and the air smelled too clean, too rich.
The heavy wooden door creaked open.
A large, broad-bellied man entered first, his red robes trimmed with gold.
Behind him, a boy about Hellen's age followed, though his gaze carried nothing but disdain. The boy's lip curled the moment their eyes met.
"You've awakened," the fat man said in a deep, booming voice.
"This is the Kingdom of Thornevale. You were found on the border, unconscious and bleeding. My healers saved you."
Hellen kept his hand on Momo, wary.
The man continued, "In this land, when one is summoned from another world, they receive their Sacred Weapon… but you were in no state to undergo the awakening. You will rest here one week, then we will call the ceremony."
The boy snorted quietly, muttering something under his breath before turning away.
Without waiting for a reply, the man — a king by the richness of his dress — left the room with his son. The heavy door shut, leaving only the muffled echo of their footsteps.
Silence returned.
Hellen glanced down at Momo, still sleeping peacefully.
His voice was barely a whisper.
"…What do we do now? It's my first time in a world like this."
He patted her softly, but his mind was far from calm.
The memory of that dark figure returned, its voice curling like smoke in his thoughts:
I can give you strength…
Hellen's stomach twisted — but not just from fear.
It growled, loudly.
"…Momo… we haven't eaten since… yesterday he muttered. His chest ached with emptiness. Momo's ears flicked as if agreeing, her tiny meow sounding like a complaint.
He waited for a servant to bring food, but minutes passed. Then an hour. Nothing.
Had come did they forgotten ous? Hellen say or we are not the heroes there are looking for ?
Finally, Hellen stood, cradling Momo against his chest.
"Guess we'll have to find something ourselves," he said.
He pulled open the heavy door and stepped into the long, carpeted hall. The castle was quiet, too quiet. Golden sconces burned with soft light, and distant footsteps echoed somewhere far below.
His stomach growled again, pushing him onward.
"I'll just… find the kitchen. Maybe bread. Anything," he whispered to Momo, who peeked out of his arms with curious eyes.
The halls of the castle were endless. Hellen and Momo wandered like mice in a maze, the boy's stomach grumbling with every step. No one had come to call him for dinner, and after hours of waiting, hunger finally pushed him from his room.
"Maybe… maybe the kitchen's this way," Hellen whispered, rubbing his belly.
Momo padded ahead, tail swishing, meowing at one particular door. Curious, Hellen pushed it open.
Inside was a small room, candlelit and quiet. A plate of golden cookies sat unattended on the table. His eyes widened.
"…Finally," he breathed, reaching out.
But before his fingers touched the plate—
A shadow swept over him.
Hellen jerked back, but too late — a cold hand clamped down on his wrist, twisting it behind his back. His body slammed against the table, the cookies rattling.
"Don't move."
The voice was low, distorted, almost genderless. Steel pressed against his throat.
Momo hissed and leapt, claws catching the attacker's mask. The grip on Hellen faltered just enough for him to stumble free.
He spun, chest heaving. A figure in black stood before him, clad like a silent blade of the night, face hidden behind cloth. The glint of a dagger still shone in their hand.
An assassin… inside the castle?
Before either could move again—
"Stop."
The command rang out like a bell.
Both Hellen and the masked figure froze as the door opened wider.
A girl entered, her posture regal yet chilling. Midnight-blue gown, silver crescent hair ornament, and eyes as cold as winter frost. She carried herself not like a girl of his age, but like someone born to rule.
The assassin immediately lowered her blade and dropped to one knee.
"…Princess Selene."
Hellen's breath caught. A princess…?
Selene's gaze fell on him, unblinking. "So. This is the one the king dragged here."
Her words were calm, but they struck him harder than the blade had.
"I—I don't…" Hellen stammered. "What's going on?"
"You don't need to know." Selene's tone was flat, dismissive, as though his confusion was beneath her notice. She walked past him, examining the assassin with a single cold glance. "You failed."
The masked figure bowed their head lower. "…It will not happen again."
Selene raised a hand, cutting off further excuses. "Return to your post. This boy is under watch. By my order."
The assassin melted into the shadows, vanishing as if swallowed by the walls.
Hellen stood frozen, his chest tight. None of this made sense — a hidden princess, an assassin obeying her, talk of the king… Why was he here? Why was everyone acting like he was important when he felt so powerless?
Selene turned back to him. "You should not wander. These halls are not safe for you."
Her words, though cold, carried a weight that made Hellen's knees weaken.
Two guards appeared outside the door, waiting silently for her command.
Selene didn't hesitate. "Take him back to his quarters."
The guards nodded.
Hellen opened his mouth — then his eyes flicked to the cookies still waiting on the table. His stomach growled at the worst possible moment.
"…Um," he muttered, flushing red. "Could I… maybe take one of those?"
The guards looked startled. Even Momo meowed expectantly.
Selene paused, her icy expression unreadable. For a moment, the silence stretched heavy in the room.
Then, with no change in her cold gaze, she walked to the table, picked up the plate, and set two cookies into Hellen's hands.
"Don't waste my time starving," she said quietly.
Hellen blinked, startled, holding the cookies as though they were treasure.
Before he could say anything more, Selene had already turned away, her gown brushing against the floor as she left the room, the air colder in her absence.
The guards guided him back down the corridor.
Momo eagerly nibbled on her share while Hellen stared at the cookie in his hand, his chest tight with questions.
What is happening here? Who are these people? And why… why me?
He had no answers. Only the taste of sweetness on his tongue, and the cold memory of Selene's eyes.