"Is everything to your liking, sir?" the butler asked.
The table was long enough to seat twenty, yet only one place had been set. Silver platters crowded the polished wood, piled high with roasted meats, glazed vegetables, warm bread, sugared fruits, and pastries dusted with powdered sugar. Crystal goblets stood beside porcelain plates, and dozens of candles burned in golden holders along the center of the table. At the head sat a single chair, occupied by the only guest the feast had been prepared for.
"I think I bit off more than I could chew. And that says a lot." Pablo could barely take another bite. He burped.
"You don't have to finish if you can't, sir." The butler then brought wine and poured a glass for Pablo.
"Really? Where does all this food go, then?" He stared at the glass of wine before picking it up.
"In the garbage, sir."
"Damn." He wasn't a fan of alcohol, but trying wouldn't hurt. "I need to focus on-" The moment he took a sip, he almost gasped. "Holy shit, my tongue is dancing!" He took another sip. "This tastes amazing!"
"If you desire dessert, I will personally bring it to you from the eighth kitchen."
"...Eight…?" He mumbled in disbelief.
"I'm sure where you come from you're used to more than a measly 8 kitchens." Tempus drank wine as well, making Pablo flinch. "Where did you come from?!"
He wore a loose white tunic beneath a forest-green surcoat, the latter embroidered with the royal family's crest in muted gold thread. His trousers were tucked into soft leather boots, and a simple belt circled his waist. There was no crown or ceremonial jewellery, only a small golden pendant identifying him as a member of the royal house.
He had long wavy blonde hair, reaching all the way to his neck.
"I was always here." He took another sip.
"...Okay?" Pablo tried to ignore it and kept drinking the wine; he just couldn't stop. "This is…"
"...Horrible, right?" Tempus finished his sentence for him. "It's the only wine we have right now, sorry if it didn't fit your preference."
"Right, this is dogshit. Like, ew. Which utterly useless fool made this?" Pablo laughed. "The female vintners of this family." Tempus responded.
Pablo's smile fell.
"Utterly despicable cursed women. I cannot despise them enough." Tempus added, then scoffed, making Pablo exhale in relief. "Utterly agreed." He took another sip. "Tastes horrible."
"Your manner of speech perplexes me." Tempus crossed his legs. "Where is your point of origin?"
"..." His mind desperately raced for an answer. "Veythar."
"Veythar? Hm." He nodded in understanding. "I wonder why mother decided to accept visitors at a crucial time like this."
"What's your name?" Pablo poured himself another glass of wine. "Tempus Caedis. And you are Pablo Drake, I presume?"
"That's me." He just couldn't get enough of the wine. "Why did you come here, Pablo Drake?"
"Classified. I cannot share something like that with you." He tried to dodge the question and drink to calm himself down. "Really? Strange. It must be very important if I cannot learn from it."
"Utterly classified, one could say." He decided he had enough of the wine, even if he wanted to keep drinking.
He remembered Paula's words to act bratty and spoiled, even though he was afraid to do so.
"Hey, Tempus." He stood up. "Show me around the castle, okay?" He grinned.
Tempus took a deep breath and clenched his fists under the table, but stood up anyway. "As you wish."
The tour went surprisingly well, and Pablo enjoyed his time just looking at rich things. Even the red carpet below their feet, which covered the entire hallway, felt rich, as if his feet were on vacation and the carpet walked for him instead, which was a good thing, given how it felt like there was no end to this hallway. Just how large was this place anyway?
Tempus deliberately skipped his own rooms. Pablo noticed, but he didn't push him about it.
As they stopped at the guest rooms, Tempus showed Pablo his own room.
It was unlike any room he had ever slept in. The bed was large, larger than it ever needed to be. He could possibly roll around in it for hours and never even risk falling off it. Even before touching it, he could feel how soft it was, just by looking at it.
The room also included a golden table connected to the wall, paired with a golden chair–which looked terribly uncomfortable once he thought about it, and a mirror in front of the table.
He felt overstimulated by everything inside the room, with many other little touches that just felt like exaggeration at this point.
"This is… my room?" It was hard to believe that it truly was. "Yes. Only the best for you." Tempus confirmed.
"Right…" He felt the cold wind hit his neck. "Huh?"
"Is something not to your liking?" Tempus tilted his head and smiled; a vein popped in his forehead subtly. "No, no, it's just… forget it." Pablo decided it's best to ignore it for now.
"I'd like to rest for now." With an exhausted sigh, he sat on the bed. "Understood. If you'd like to change, you can use the clothes in the wardrobe." Tempus closed the door behind him. He put more strength than he needed to because of his frustration.
"Yeah, he's pissed." Pablo muttered to himself and lay down, spreading his arms and legs around the bed and just letting himself sink into it. "I should investigate this place and find a way to learn their secret. They wouldn't keep the Magiborns in the house though, would they? That sounds stupid."
His eyes closed, his body begging for sleep due to his exhaustion.
"I just want to rest for now." He took a deep breath, his voice shaking with pain. "I haven't slept properly in ages."
His breathing became lighter; his body stopped being stiff. For the first time in a while, he was actually calm.
That wasn't going to last long, though.
Suddenly, the pain of countless needles digging into his skin woke him up. He gasped and tried to get up, but noticed he couldn't even move his body. He could only move his eyes.
He frantically looked around with his eyes, but all he could see was the lamp above his head, shining like the sun. As his eyes got used to the light, he noticed the ceiling, which was composed of cobblestone with vines covering it.
"Oh, you woke up?" A voice belonging to an old man was heard right next to him. The figure then loomed over Pablo's head.
He could point out only these things:
The man wore a black robe covering his full body, with a necklace accompanied by a gem he couldn't recognise. The man had long hair, so long it easily surpassed Pablo's. His hair was dark and messy, unkempt, just like Nasaki's.
He couldn't see his face completely.
Only the sadistic grin.
"Good. I was hoping to hear you screaming anyway." The man let out a loud noise, something between laughing and screaming.
He pulled out a massive machete and swung it with all his might, aimed at Pablo's chest.
In fear, Pablo screamed and jumped out of his bed, covered in sweat from head to toe. He realised he could move and checked his body, only to realise that he was still in his bed.
No wounds, no holes, and no signs of any fatal wound on his chest.
"Holy shit…" He had trouble breathing. "Was that a dream? It felt too vivid. Not like the other weird dreams I've had… No–this one wasn't just vivid. It felt real, too real."
No matter how real it felt, the evidence was hard to deny. It was clearly just a dream. He looked outside the window and noticed it was dark outside. Just how long was he asleep anyway?
Any exhaustion and desire to sleep he had vanished. He didn't want to even lie in the bed anymore. He spent the night sitting in the chair and trying to keep himself together until the sun finally came up.