Kieran's brain was still trying to process what had happened. He stared at the window glass, eyes wide in disbelief.
He touched his cheeks. Soft. Delicate. He lifted his hand again and slapped himself, feeling the sharp sting spread across his skin.
It was real. Completely real.
Which meant only one thing.
He was going to die.
The thought alone sent chills down his spine. He remembered those dreams, the ones where flames swallowed him whole and burned him into ashes. Even the heat in those dreams had felt too real to dismiss as imagination.
Great. Just what he needed.
He was just a normal seventeen-year-old student who still depended on his parents' money. Not even the smartest kid around. And now he was supposed to survive in a life where death was practically guaranteed?
Oh hell no.
He looked closer at the reflection. White hair, short and slightly messy. Slightly chubby cheeks. Judging by his appearance, he was around fifteen or sixteen. At least that meant he still had time before the disaster of the future arrived.
Deep in thought, he tried to calm himself. As long as the story had not changed, everything should still follow the same timeline. The problem was simple. Nobody liked Luke. He was infamous for being a scumbag. Who would ever want to help someone like that.
"This is driving me insane," he muttered, pinching his temple.
"Your Highness."
A calm male voice appeared behind him, without a single sound of approaching footsteps. Kieran's heart nearly dropped. He quickly turned around.
A pale man stood there. A neatly tailored black tailcoat. A white vest and high-collared shirt. Grey hair slicked back perfectly. Black gloves. Shoes polished to a mirror shine.
A butler. Thank goodness.
"What is it?" he asked, trying to sound natural, trying to be Luke.
"It is time for your classes."
Kieran stared at him in disbelief. "Oh… of course," he replied calmly.
Inside his head, he was screaming.
No. Absolutely not. Classes? This was hell.
Then something clicked. This man probably knew a lot about Luke. Maybe everything. He needed that information. He needed to squeeze it out of him.
"Um… who are you again?"
The words slipped out before he could stop himself. The moment he realized what he had said, he wanted to bury himself. Who forgets their own personal butler?
The man opened his eyes slightly, surprised. "I am Eric, Your Highness."
"Right. Yes. What day is it?" Kieran asked quickly, hoping to erase the embarrassment.
"It is the seventeenth day of the fourth moon."
"What year?"
"The year three thousand three hundred and twenty of the New Epodh."
Now that was good news. That meant he still had around six to seven years before he would ascend to the throne.
With that much time, he could plan. Maybe escape if he had to. And if everything ended well, maybe there was even a way back home. Back to his cramped, cheap dorm.
So why did it feel like he was a prisoner counting down to his own execution?
"I see. Then let us go to class," he said, trying to stay composed.
He did not want to go. Someone please kidnap him.
"Of course, Your Highness," Eric replied, turning to lead him into the castle.
Kieran followed, stepping into a grand hall that nearly made his jaw drop. Everything shone with ridiculous brilliance.
The ceiling stretched high above, letting the air feel wide and cool. Golden ornaments decorated almost everything. Even the windows gleamed with golden frames. Curtains of pure white silk hung with silver embroidery.
While walking behind Eric, there were many things Kieran wanted to ask, but he needed to choose his questions carefully.
If he raised suspicion, he could already imagine himself tied up in a dungeon, interrogated about where the real Luke was. Or accused of being a witch who had taken over someone's body.
His head throbbed the more he thought about it. This was too complicated.
Kieran looked at Eric. "May I ask you something?"
"Yes, Your Highness?" Eric replied, slightly turning his head.
"What classes do I have today?"
"For today, it is only History of Magic, Political Speech, and Magic Hierarchy."
Now that sounded useful, Kieran thought as he stepped onto the white marble floor. His heels echoed through the hallway.
In the distance, a few maids chatted softly as they wiped the furniture. Sunlight poured through tall arched windows, making them appear almost radiant. Their gentle laughter echoed pleasantly through the hall. Golden accents sparkled everywhere.
But the moment one of them noticed Luke, everything stopped.
She tapped the others urgently. The cheerful laughter vanished instantly. They lowered their heads and hurried back to work, not daring to meet the prince's gaze.
Kieran noticed their reaction. He was still far away, yet they had already frozen. Just what had this boy done to make everyone so terrified of him?
Question after question formed in his mind, but he pushed them aside. He would escape sooner or later, so this probably would not matter much.
He already knew the map of the town from the game, even if the one he remembered was the ruined future version. But what he needed next was the true devil.
Money.
He did not have any money of his own, but Luke certainly received allowance. He just needed to check the room later and borrow it.
That did not count as stealing. This was his body now, so the money was his too. Finally, something to thank the original Luke for.
"Your Highness, we have arrived," Eric announced.
"Huh?" Kieran blinked, stopping in front of a white wooden door. He must have been thinking so hard that the walk felt short.
"Before you enter, I should tell you," Eric continued.
"The tutor is new to the kingdom."
"Sure. But why tell me that now?" Kieran asked curiously"
"He is from the countryside, so this is his first time here," Eric explained, his gaze filled with quiet concern.
Without thinking too much, Kieran nodded. "Fine. I will do my best."
"And Your Highness."
"Yes?"
"Please do not make this one quit too."
There was silence.
So that was why he told him.