The heavy silence that followed my words finally shattered.
Duke Veynard, still pale, his eyes so wide it looked as if they might pop out like in a cartoon, cleared his throat with a sound like a drowning toad, then stammered:
"Y…Your…Your Majesty?"
Then, in a trembling yet urgent voice, he barked:
"Slave! Go… go fetch the royal physician! And… uh… summon the four other ministers! At once! Quick, off with you!"
She nodded silently and slipped out running, her cat ears still flattened, the fur on her tail standing on end.
I remained seated, finally releasing my prey.
My hand fell limply onto the bed, tired, though adrenaline kept me awake.
The two dukes, however, had completely changed their expressions. The hungry vulture look, ready to tear apart my carcass, vanished as if by magic, replaced with such sickly sweet smiles I almost gagged.
"Your Majesty!"
breathed Duke Loras, beaming.
"This is… it's a miracle! Praise be to the Gods!"
"Praise be to the Gods!"
Echoed Duke Veynard, sweating profusely.
"What ineffable joy to see you return to us, Your Highness!"
The contrast between their venomous insults during my so-called coma, and this flood of syrupy flattery, made my stomach churn. But I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my face neutral.
Steady now… be smart. No confronting them head-on. Not yet.
I put on a fragile, almost dazed expression, lowering my eyes as though I were still emerging from the fog of a long sleep.
"Hm… I… my head is spinning…"
I murmured weakly.
"...What… what is happening?"
"Your Highness, you have been asleep for ten years!"
answered Duke Veynard.
"King Dragobert II and Queen Athilde, alas, did not survive the sickness. You are now the crowned prince, Your Highness."
added Duke Loras, pretending to bow his head in solemn respect.
A few moments later, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door swung open and the royal physician rushed in, breathless, his long white robes trailing behind him. He was a gaunt old man, dry as parchment, with round spectacles and fingers stained with ink and powder (medicinal, I hoped).
"Here is the royal physician, Your Highness!"
announced Duke Veynard.
"By the Gods! Your Majesty… you are… awake?!"
the physician exclaimed in disbelief.
A doctor with that kind of reaction does not bode well. Medicine in this world must be in a sorry state.
Without waiting for me to reply, he hurried to my side, laid a trembling hand on my forehead, then launched into a frantic examination: he took my pulse, listened to my breathing, tapped my ribs, checked my eye color, and even had me stick out my tongue like some sick child.
"Incredible…"
he muttered under his breath.
"No signs of permanent numbness… reflexes restored… heartbeat strong, clear… how is this possible?"
He straightened, swaying, staring at the two dukes and then at me, eyes bulging with sheer incredulity.
"I… I have no explanation. To my knowledge, a ten-year coma… never ends like this. Your Majesty, you are… A miracle!... The Gods have answered our prayers."
The two dukes nodded solemnly, as if the old man's words confirmed what they had always believed.
(Though I'd bet they'd already prepared my tombstone.)
At that moment, more footsteps echoed, and the door opened once again. An other noble entered.
A tall, lean man, still standing proud despite his white hair, his steel-gray eyes shining like polished metal. His voice carried naturally, deep, resonant.
"Praise be to the Gods,"
He declared, stepping up to my bedside.
"The royal blood of Almaris does not fade so easily! You are living proof that the will of our ancestors still protects this kingdom."
He dropped to one knee, fist against his chest, like a knight swearing an oath.
"Your Majesty, know this: your people never doubted your awakening, nor the heavens. The strength of Almaris's royal line, and the greatness of the Gods, manifests through you."
The other ministers echoed his words, some with genuine fervor, others more hesitant. The room filled with their praises and prayers.
And me, inwardly?
I was pissed off.
But I let nothing show. I raised my head slightly, like a prince still weak yet dignified, and simply whispered:
"Thank you… my loyal ministers. Thank you…"
A faint smile curved Duke Calistram's lips. The others bobbed their heads frantically.
In their eyes, I still saw shock, but also… a new spark. Anxiety. Fear.
And I realized my awakening had just changed the rules of their game.
Once their incredulity had mostly subsided, and every possible prayer and praise had been spoken (twice over), they summoned porters to carry me up to my chambers. They claimed they had been forced to move me downstairs due to special medical needs.
Honestly, do they take me for a gullible fool? Who needs a moldy, dusty dungeon for medical treatment?!
The ministers swarmed around me like dogs desperate to prove their loyalty, but their greedy eyes and overly high-pitched, polite voices betrayed a morbid curiosity:
They wanted to be the first to witness my return to life. And above all, to know what I knew. To know what would become of them.
We left the dank, gloomy cell where I had spent my first days in this world. The vast spiral staircases stretched upward, seemingly endless, each landing adorned with armor, tapestries, finely crafted furniture, and more.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached a massive double door of dark wood inlaid with gold. Two guards swung it open in silence.
I discovered my royal chamber.
The contrast nearly took my breath away.
Here, everything radiated wealth and grandeur. The walls, covered entirely in painted frescoes, depicted lush forests, cascading waterfalls, majestic animals: white stags with golden antlers, sapphire-maned lions, star-speckled whales soaring through the skies. The colors, vibrant and dazzling, seemed alive, ready to leap off the walls.
The vaulted ceiling was painted to mimic a starry sky of gold and azure.
Delicate midnight-blue drapes, embroidered with threads of gold, turquoise, and emerald, hung from the arches, softening the glow of candlelight. The floor, blanketed with thick rugs, muffled every step. The furniture was pure artistry: ebony tables inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold, carved armchairs, lacquered chests, and above all, that monumental canopy bed. Its polished dark wood gleamed like a mirror, supporting royal-blue velvet curtains that cascaded in elegant folds. The mattress, absurdly soft, was piled with silk cushions and pillows in shades of azure and jade. A true nest fit for a prince… (or a gilded trap, depending on perspective).
So maybe my second life wasn't looking too bad after all.
But nothing compared to the windows.
Three immense arched bays opened onto the outside. I couldn't resist the sight.
At first, I saw only mist. An ocean of thick, shifting clouds stretched endlessly, a grayish-white sea devouring the horizon. My heart raced.
Then, lowering my gaze, I understood.
Beneath my feet… there was nothing.
Or rather: There was the kingdom... suspended in the void.
A vast floating island of pastures and stone-and-wood houses drifted upon the sea of mist. And at its center, towering over all, stood my castle.
A stone fortress with spires thrusting skyward like lances. From this chamber at the very top, I was literally perched at the summit of the world.
I stood silent, mesmerized. Outside, the wind howled, whipping the blue-and-gold banners of the castle. The clouds below seemed alive, like waves eager to swallow this fragile miracle adrift in the sky.
A floating kingdom… I was in a floating kingdom!
My fingers clenched involuntarily on the porters' arms.
Everything I thought possible in reality collapsed in an instant. I was at once awestruck… and terrified. Thrilled… and uneasy…
Behind me, the ministers bowed deeply. Duke Calistram's strong, resonant voice rang out, as though reciting from an epic:
"Behold, Your Majesty. This is Almaris, kingdom of the skies, throne of the mists, legacy of the Gods. A land once desolate, reborn at your awakening. Now, it rests in your hands."
Then he proclaimed:
"Long live Crown Prince Dagobert III!"
All the ministers echoed in unison:
"Long live Crown Prince Dagobert III!"
I gave no answer.
Hypnotised by the endless white ocean… hypnotized, wondering what lay hidden beneath it.
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Prince Drago Awakening
Chapter 3: The Miracle of Almaris
Author: Léonardo de Deuille