Chapter 1: Throne Room (1)
"…attempt to do such a thing to the king who is father and pillar of our nation?"
'King? Why are we talking about kings? Is somebody drunkenly ranting about that book again?'
'Aren't I supposed to be dead, or did a medical miracle happen?'
As a grating, high-pitched voice rapidly hurled questions and thinly veiled insults, the man, who suddenly found himself kneeling in an unknown location, tried to understand his current situation.
He was currently kneeling and actively damaging his poor knees on a very expensive-looking marble floor.
'As someone in his thirties, he really didn't have many years of youthful knees remaining, but maybe he could get the person who made him kneel to fund the inevitable knee replacement surgery?'
'A man could hope.'
As the grating voice continued to ask questions and list grievances, the man stopped fooling around and listened with half his mind while taking stock of his body.
Strands of white hair with red-stained tips tickled his nose and obscured his vision while droplets of blood dripped to the ground from his aching head.
His body felt heavy and unwell, and the skin on his hands was a sickly, paper-white color, slightly callused.
'This definitely wasn't in his own body.'
'Where was he, whose body was this then, and how did he get into it?'
'Was this some type of dream or nightmare?'
Since no answer was forthcoming, the man continued to analyze everything he could.
His clothes were of a strange style, similar enough to a modern suit but with drapery, ruffles, and embroidery.
The clothes looked and felt like they were of decent quality, but they certainly weren't top-of-the-line.
It reminded him of some historical shows his subordinates occasionally watched during their free time.
When the man lifted his head to take a quick peek at his surroundings, the extravagance of the furnishings, crystal chandeliers, marble pillars with veins of gold, intricate architecture of the place made it clear that, compared to the quality of his clothes, this body wasn't wealthy enough for this to be his regular abode.
'Was this body a visitor?'
'Or some kind of servant being punished?'
'Was that why his head was bleeding, and his body hurt?'
'And what exactly was he being accused of by that annoying voice that refused to shut up?'
Just as the man thought it, his question was immediately answered.
"Answer me, you ungrateful child! I have loved and treated you as my own. Why in the name of 7 gods and the 3 continents would you try to poison the king?"
"……."
At the ludicrous-sounding words, the man kneeling on the ground froze.
'HUH?'
'I BEG YOUR DAMN PARDON?'
'POISON THE KING?'
'What exactly do you mean by that?'
'You can't be talking to me, can you?'
'I'm not averse to poisoning people if I need to, and may have done it a few times in the past, but as far as I'm concerned, I've never met a king, much less poisoned one, before, so you can't be talking about me.'
As the man knelt there, fully confident that the annoying voice was speaking to somebody else, perhaps the master of this body, the illusion was shattered almost immediately.
"You there! Kneeling and bleeding out on the ground! Caellum Emberlin! Just because you're bleeding from the head doesn't mean you've become deaf and dumb, does it? Or does your white hair mean your head is really like clouds, empty and only full of wind! Why did you try to poison the king? What do you have to say for yourself? Answer me!"
As that grating voice screamed out once more, the man, kneeling on the ground, froze.
Not from the accusation.
But from realization.
'…kneeling and bleeding.'
'…white hair.'
'That was obviously referencing him.'
'….Caellum?'
'Why did that name sound so familiar?'
'Wait….'
'Caellum…Emberlin…'
'Was he supposed to be Caellum Emberlin?'
'That Emberlin?'
'No, no, no, no.'
'It couldn't be.'
'Wasn't Emberlin the last name of the Emberfield royal family in that novel, his subordinates were always talking about?'
'And the only Caellum Emberlin he was aware of was a loser of a 13th prince who was killed off within the very first chapter in the book.'
'His memories were a bit fuzzy since he had half-heartedly listened to his subordinate talking about the book in passing.'
'Still, he vaguely remembered that it had involved a poison attempt on…the 12th prince's father.'
'In other words, the king.'
'If what he suspected was correct, he had somehow ended up inside <Heir to the Burning Throne> in the body of a prince who was supposed to be dying soon.'
"Are you ignoring me, Caellum! If you're guilty, just confess and ask for forgiveness! I'm sure the king will have mercy and forgive you!"
"Yes, brother! Just confess!"
"Confess!"
"If you don't confess, you'll be dragged to the dungeon and immediately beheaded! Just confess!"
As various voices yelled at him to confess, the man tried to recall everything he knew about the situation, which was-
'Nothing!'
'He knew nothing at all.'
'In fact, the only reason he remembered the 13th prince's name was that he thought it sounded quite cool and had an interesting meaning, which, in novels, meant the character was important.'
'Unfortunately, his subordinates informed him that the character's death was five words long and never mentioned again.'
'In other words, there were no hints about the current situation, which ended in the 13th prince's death, because the incident wasn't even important enough to go into detail about.'
The man didn't know why he was brought to this body, but he had no plans to die as the original Caellum did.
'If he was stuck in this body, so be it.'
'He would become Caellum, live, and figure out what was happening.'
Quickly thinking, Caellum began subtly pinching his numb legs so that he could activate his long, shriveled tear glands and cry.
As his eyes filled with forcibly extracted tears, Caellum glanced up through his limp hair, quickly scanning every corner of the room once more while racking his brain.
It appeared to be a throne room with people he assumed were members of the royal family judging the supposed criminal, who was him.
At the very front of the room were steps with chairs on each level, some occupied and some empty.
Standing at the foot of the steps was a slender yet shapely older woman with vibrant green eyes and long blonde hair that swept the ground.
She was wearing an ornately embroidered green dress, and heavy golden jewelry set with emeralds of unprecedented size and clarity adorned her wrists, head, and neck.
'This was probably the queen who had been yelling and screaming as if she were a harpy.'
'She was the mother of the 12th prince in the novel, and her name was some type of jewel. Emerald or something of the sort.'
Then, at the top of the steps, seated in a golden throne at the center of 5 seats, was an older man with fiery red hair, wearing extravagant clothing and a golden crown.
With his legs crossed and his gaze focused solely on the dark-haired beauty with dark eyes and lush red lips sitting beside him, it was apparent that he was the king and that he would rather be anywhere but here.
Ideally, alone with the dark-haired beauty.
Caellum's eyes quickly swept over the rest of the area, taking in the other 3 women by the king and the 7 of the 12 seats on the steps occupied by young men and women who vaguely looked like those women.
'The women beside the king were likely his concubines, and the younger people seated below him were his half-siblings.'
Based on their disinterested expressions, as if watching a show, the man assumed that none were the mother or allies of this current body.
'Which meant he was alone.'
'Lovely.'
As Caellum's eyes drifted downwards, he noticed that the 13th seat at the very bottom of the steps was knocked over, the 12th seat was empty, and the 9th seat was occupied by a young man who facially looked like a carbon copy of the woman the king was staring at.
Staring at the delicately handsome face of the young man with a strange blend of black and red hair in a flame-like pattern, Caellum had to stop himself from smiling.
'Bingo!'
Subtly pinching his thighs once more, so more tears poured out, Caellum softened his voice and put on his most innocent expression. "What are you talking about…mother? Are you saying I tried to poison Father? I would never do such a thing! Why would you say that? Why are you falsely accusing me?"
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