Zach was still sitting on the stone steps, trying to breathe like a normal person, when the air changed.
It pressed down on his back. It felt heavy.
He turned slowly.
A man stood behind him.
Zach jumped to his feet so fast the hem of the skirt tangled around his legs. He barely caught himself.
"Who the hell are you?" he snapped.
The man didn't react.
He was tall, silver-haired, and composed in a way that felt unnatural. His calm eyes passed over Zach like he was a minor inconvenience.
"So you're awake now." The man said.
Zach raised an eyebrow, then forced a laugh, it was loud and fake.
"Haha… wow. Okay. This dream is way too realistic." He slapped his own arm. "Wake up, Zach. Wake up already."
The man tilted his head slightly.
"Elise," he said.
The sound of the name landed hard.
Zach's breath caught as something strange twisted in his chest…an emotion that wasn't his. Tight. Familiar. Painful.
'Whose feelings are these?'
He pressed a hand against his chest, unsettled.
Footsteps rushed toward them.
"My lady!"
Several maids hurried over, faces pale, breathing hard as if they'd been running for their lives.
"My lady, you have only just awakened," one of them said, hands braced on her knees. "And you kept running. Please, you must rest."
She straightened and then froze.
Her eyes locked onto the man behind Zach.
All color drained from her face.
"Y-your Grace!"
The maids dropped into deep bows at once.
Zach stared.
"Your Grace?"
Slowly, he turned back to the silver-haired man.
'Who was this guy? And why did everyone look like they were about to faint seeing him?'
He didn't care.
"W-we will escort Lady Elise back to her chambers," one maid said quickly, still bowing. "Please forgive her behavior."
The man's gaze flicked toward them.
Cold.
Sharp.
The maids flinched as if struck deep inside their bones.
Hands reached for Zach's arms.
"Wait, wait," he said, backing away, palms raised. "Guys. Ladies. Sir. What kind of drama is this? Is this real? What the hell is going on?"
"My lady?" one maid whispered, eyes filling with tears.
The man finally spoke again.
"What nonsense are you spitting, Elise?"
His tone was calm. Controlled. Serious.
It slid down Zach's spine like ice.
He took another step back, hands still raised.
"Sir, I'm not Elise," he said quickly. "I'm Zach. Zach Mitchell. And I really need to go home."
For a split second, hope flickered.
It died immediately.
The man stared at him without anger or surprise. Just quiet judgment.
Then he turned slightly toward the maids.
"Bring her back to her chambers," he said. "Call the royal physician. Tell him to use his magic."
Zach's eyes widened.
"Royal physician? Magic?" he repeated. "Hey, wait… what?"
The maids grabbed him before he could run.
"You don't understand!" he struggled. "I'm not Elise! I'm not from here!"
They held tighter.
One maid was already crying.
"Our poor lady," she sobbed. "The trauma must have been too great. She's forgotten who she is."
"I did not forget anything!" Zach snapped. "You're the ones being dramatic!"
He twisted hard, yanking his arms free.
His body moved faster than expected.
Lighter, but strong.
The maids stumbled back and fell with startled cries.
Zach stared at his hands.
"…Oh."
A smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it. He's got his physical strength with him.
He pointed at them. "Okay. Listen. I don't know what kind of prank this is, but where is my body?"
The maids burst into louder sobs.
"Our Lady Elise is speaking so strangely!"
Zach opened his mouth to yell again but then-
Click.
A sharp sound rang inside his ears.
The world tilted.
"Oh come on…"
The ground rushed up.
Darkness swallowed everything.
"Lady Elise!"
The voices echoed far away.
ৎ────
Zach gasped awake.
His body jerked upright, breath coming fast.
Night.
Moonlight spilled through tall windows, painting the room in silver.
Same bed. Same heavy curtains. Same room.
His chest sank.
He pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a slow breath.
"So it wasn't a dream," he muttered. Then added weakly, "Or maybe I'm still dreaming… right?"
His stomach answered with a loud growl.
Grrrrr.
He froze.
"…Seriously?"
He looked down.
A thin sleeping dress clung to him, soft and far too light.
"What the hell am I wearing?"
He slid out of bed and padded toward the door, then stopped when the mirror caught his eye.
The woman stared back at him.
Purple hair is messy from sleep. Gray eyes half-lidded.
He sighed.
"You look beautiful, madam."
The reflection offered no argument.
He shook his head. "Whose body is this…?"
He cracked the door open.
Empty hallway.
No guards. No maids.
"Huh."
He stepped out.
The castle at night felt larger. Quieter. Shadows stretched along the walls. The interior felt magical with the strange lights designs on the wall.
He rubbed his arms.
"Okay," he muttered. "If this is a dream, I'll play along. Just tonight."
His stomach growled again.
"First problem," he said, "I'm starving."
Portraits lined the walls.
One showed the silver-haired man. Cold eyes. Serious face.
Another showed the purple-haired woman, smiling softly.
Zach stopped.
"…Are they married?"
He clicked his tongue. "Tch. Whatever."
Downstairs, a guard stood near the entrance.
"Hey, dude," Zach called.
The guard jumped.
"My Lady Elise!" He bowed so fast he nearly fell over.
Zach laughed. "Relax. Where can I get food? I'm freaking hungry."
The guard blinked, then nodded. "The kitchen, my lady."
"Lead the way."
The kitchen was massive.
Silver trays. Glass cases. More food than Zach had ever seen in some fancy restaurants he has been to.
His eyes lit up.
"This dream has a really good budget."
He piled food onto a table and ate without shame, one foot on the chair, crumbs everywhere.
Sweet. Savory. Warm.
He leaned back, full.
"Nice food," he said. "Thanks, dream."
A burp slipped out.
Satisfied, he returned to the room and collapsed into bed.
"I'll sleep it off," he said. "When I wake up, I'll be Zach again."
ৎ────
"Lady Elise."
A voice pulled him from sleep.
"Lady Elise, please wake up. You must join His Grace for breakfast. Your dress is ready."
Morning light flooded the room.
Zach rolled onto his side.
"Argh."
Same bed.
Same body.
"No way."
He slowly sat up and stared at his hands.
Long fingers. Pale skin. A dress laid nearby.
Nothing had changed.
His mouth opened.
"Nooooooooo."
And somehow, deep down…
He knew it was only going to get worse.