Wilson found himself laying on a soft material that he was intimately acquainted with. It was soft, and he dared to say furry to the touch. Its texture was unique, and only he could possibly own such a material.
Involuntarily, his body instinctively opened his eyes. Years of darkness made him aware that such action was useless as there was nothing he could see. But to his surprise, he actually felt like he was blinded again.
Blinded by the myriad of colors he had missed over the last six years.
Although there were thick canopies covering his windows and only a streak of light coming in through the gaps, it still overwhelmed him, who had not been used to it for such a very long time. Out of instinct, he closed his eyes again to give himself time to adjust—to give himself time to process the fact he could see again.
To ensure he was not dreaming, he even clawed his left wrist with his right hand. He didn't stop until he could smell blood being drawn. He let the wound be exposed to the wind to feel it sting before he believed he was indeed alive again.
Sighing in both relief and frustration, he allowed himself to cry. He let his tears run free on his cheeks. He sobbed once in a while until his heart felt less constricted, venting his years of suffocation under those years of darkness.
Still, it made him wonder, where was he now? Did that guy somehow save him from dying on that platform? If he did, how did he restore his sight as well?
Remembering that he had that wound on his neck, he reached out to feel for it. However, all he felt was an unblemished patch of skin—free from any sorts of wounds or scars. This alarmed him enough to stand up and frantically open the window blinds.
It was not a wise choice to do so. The morning sun was unforgiving to his still-adjusting eyes. He ended up taking a few steps backward and even fell on the floor in his haste as he closed his eyes in reflex.
Still, it was worth it once he more or less got courageous enough to open his eyes again. From the layout of the room, he could see it was the room he used to have when he was sent to the imperial academy for further education and networking. The last time he was here was when he was seventeen, just a year before he was declared as the legal heir and taken back to be prepared to take over his father's post.
Out of habit, he used his hands to feel the room and found the bed post to help himself to stand up. His eyes were stuck at the wooden blocks by the table next to his bed. It shows the day's date.
March 19th, 1026
That is exactly ten years before the date he was supposed to be executed. A year before he had to go home to formalize his status. Two years before his sight was lost. Three years before becoming a deposed heir. And seven years before his family's downfall.
"I came back in time?" Wilson reached out for the blocks.
He felt the texture and confirmed it was one of the woodworks his third brother made, with the marks it bore at the side. Furthermore, he could see the permanent darker part of the wood that his second sister had soaked with perfume in an attempt to make it always fragrant of his favorite jasmine flowers. An attempt that didn't really work, but did prolong the scent enough to make him less homesick.
This was their gift to him before he left for the academy. A thoughtful gift that had been specially marked on days of vacations to remind him to go home. Whenever those days came, he always found himself looking forward to it as well.
As he was processing everything, a knock sounded on the door. It was a simple knocking, but it held a rhythm that only his personal servant seems to use. He never noticed that he always knocked to his room with only that particular pattern until he lost his sight. From this sound alone, he could differentiate him from the other servants.
He allowed the servant to come in.
"Good morning, My Lord." A young-looking brunette said as he stepped in. "Would you need me to prepare your bath and breakfast right now, or would you prefer to go to the grounds for a light warm-up?"
Wilson regarded the servant for a moment. He tried to match this young man to the face he last remembered of him before his incident happened. The older him was a little rugged, but he figured it was because back then the situation was dire enough.
"My Lord?"
"... Right." Wilson said with a sigh. "I'd like breakfast, please. But before that, can you tell me my schedule for today."
The servant was puzzled, but obliged anyway.
"You have a test today on royal etiquette this morning at nine, a meeting with the Third Prince at eleven, and a conference with the young lord Davis in the afternoon at two."
Hearing about the Third Prince made him stiff for a moment. Never did he think he came back at this time where that bastard was actually gathering people to be part of his circle. Such a timing that he has little room for maneuver to excuse his presence from that meeting.
"I see." Wilson said as he looked outside the window to see the clear blue sky for a moment. "That should be all for now, John. I'll call you when I need anything else."
The servant made a small bow before saying that his breakfast will be served in 10 minutes. Seeing that he was acting a little odd this morning, he asked if Wilson would like his breakfast at the terrace or on his study. Thinking for a moment, Wilson decided to eat at the study today as he needed to plan what he will do now that he was given a second chance at life.
With the servant gone, he changed into a simple wear. He still has his long blonde hair at this point of time, so he found himself a tie to not let it hinder him. He looked at himself in the mirror to look at the vintage of his younger self—of his young and foolish self who was unwittingly used to his damnation. Green eyes looking more sharp than they should be as he thought back on what happened to his family.
"We'll not go down to that path, Wilson." He said to the image reflecting back at him. "We're no longer naive to believe others' promises easily. We've lost too much once, and never will we go there again."
Closing his eyes for a moment, he turned around and went out of his room, and into his study. He needs to think of what he can do to avoid the tragedy ten years from now. He needs to note down who and what he needs to avoid to steer clear of the schemes he was dragged to.
Going to his drawers, he took out an unused journal he typically has as extra for his studies before. With a nostalgic sentiment as he felt through the paper and the fountain pen, he began writing a rough summary of what will happen in the future. He might have a strong memory, but it is inevitable that he might miss a few details as time passed on.
The first thing he had to do is to be wary of the Third Prince: Alphonsus Gio Helme. The very bastard whom he once held affection with and the very reason for his family's downfall.
The bastard was charming and very deceptive. He charmed everyone that he is a virtuous prince in public who is approachable and dependable. He was a manipulative scum who uses sentiments to get what he wanted.
Wilson took a long time to actually come to terms with this person's true nature. John and his fellow servants had gathered more than enough information about his deeds behind the well-crafted person that was this hypocrite prince. That he uses the people in his circle to slowly build an image of being impartial and just to be a strong contender to the throne.
Prior to his family's fall, he heard of minor barons being ousted by the Third Prince's faction. How their fate was actually a prologue of what was to come to him. That out of his affection and offered loyalty, he was met with a systematic scheme made for greed for something he was never meant to have.
Jotting down a few major families that were in Alphonsus' fraction and circle, he thoughtfully circled a few whom he could deter from fully incorporating with the prince. Through marriage, political stance, and even economic ties, he can save them from being used as pawns. These few people tried to help his family out back then as well, so it is just and right for him to get them off the swamp that they are about to drown in.
Having them turn away from and from supporting Alphonsus will no doubt hurt the prince's development. For a family to be a major family among the nobles, they held military, financial, and land as a capital of their strength and influence. Things a prince would need to be well-connected and influential to be a monarch.
Once these people are out of the picture, that bastard will have a hard time to stand out among the other princes. And when that happens, he'll be a cornered beast. Then he will step in and break the man slowly as he did to him in the future when his family was wrongly executed.
Writing down key events that he can exploit, he then wrote another set of names whom he can reach an alliance with.
Alexus Ram Davis.
The legal heir of the Dukedom of Davis and the holder of the golden ram's horn and insignias which represent the nation's highest military honors. A man of honor and someone who values loyalty and friendship over political gain. He was the patron John had told them about before, but arrived too late as he cannot leave the capital as much as he liked.
Before his arrival, he could have lost quite a lot to bring in his soldiers to march to his family's lands. After all, without a deployment order from the king, it is generally not allowed for anyone to mobilize their army. The King is a well-known profiteer, he would have to pay a fee to get such approval to bring his men over.
Circling his name, Wilson felt complex on what he can do for this man.
Their interactions at school were professional and can be described as neither close nor distant. Through shared lessons from common teachers, they often share a project or two. And out of convenience they are each other's preferred partners in school matters.
Outside of school, they are quite familiar with one another since they were merely seven years old. Both of their families are considered close with each other due to their matriarchs having close bonds, so even before they got to the academy they often met with each other. Their childhood was spent in each other's company as prospective heirs of their families.
And there was the confession before his death. Wilson is not sure of how to proceed with the knowledge in mind. He is currently hell-bent to punish and cripple Alphonsus to protect everyone. Alexus will no doubt distract him from his goals if he catches his schemes. He is that protective as long as he has a justification to do so.
Not wanting to think about the man until he gets himself together, he continued writing until John knocked on the door, signaling his breakfast had arrived.