Dizziness. He felt terribly dizzy.
Every cell in his head throbbed with intoxication. He wasn't even supposed to know what it was, but his vision, which was terribly wobbly, and his body, which seemed to be lying at the bottom of a distant ocean with a rock perched on his chest, knew that these were symptoms of some kind of intoxication.
He also knew that he was very unwell.
He made a commendable effort to part his eyelids.
His eyelashes fluttered repeatedly, shaking off the weight of his eyes and dispelling the film of sailing fog. He soon succeeded, facing a ceiling far away, painted white and inlaid with lofty gold patterns that made him knit his brows in disinterest
Since when have school ceilings been shiny and intact without cracks? He leaned on his hands and rose very slowly, scanning the vast room with a face filled with the most wonderful expressions of astonishment. He must have been hallucinating or daydreaming a lot. He was possessed by the most terrible headache he had ever experienced, and he noticed the bed, which was king-sized, with expensive covers and numerous pillows, and was also very soft. No wonder his body groaned from relaxing on that piece of cotton candy.
The windowpanes were painted a cool blue, and the sunlight cast heavenly shades on them. He would have contemplated them with fascination had he not been staring at the carvings painted on top of the entire wall. The picture of a fluffy peacock added to the majesty of the place. What was this place, really?
The door opened suddenly; he flinched
He was in a state of panic, almost collapsing, feeling that he was losing control of himself and his breathing. His eyes fell on the tall man with the styled brown hair and the old-fashioned suit that belonged to the servant class of the ancient centuries, as he had read in a book last week
The boy, who wasn't very old at all, seemed surprised to see him, tensing up before the former smiled and stepped forward to stand at the foot of the bed where Louis was curled up in the covers, his gaze screaming panic.
"It's good to see you're actually awake, sir."
Had a stranger several years his senior just called him sir? Louis swallowed with an excited shudder. Where did he come from, why did he happen, where was he, who was he? These were all questions crowding his idle mind, so he could only give the waiting boy a completely bewildered look. As if his state was something completely normal.
"Where am I?"
It was a logical question; he made sure to make it so, rolling it over his tongue. So when the young man's mouth widened until two hollow dimples formed in his cheeks, he frowned in amusement at why he was smiling like that. Did he just find strangers in a king-sized bed every morning? God, how many people had touched the same covers before him.
"You're in your room at this hour.
After the dance last night, I took you here so you could get some rest."
Many vague things came out of the young man's quiet answer. He was in his room, where the person standing before him had taken him after a dance the night before. No, he certainly hadn't gone mad; no doubt, it was a special golden dream that he would remember as soon as he woke up. He tried to pinch himself surreptitiously, but it was an unsuccessful trick, which he decided to blame on fantasy movies, and he only got pain
He was completely lost, and it showed to the steadily smiling boy. "It seems the liquor hasn't gone away yet, Count," the young man commented, retreating to a massive cabinet, which he opened to rummage through its contents while Louis struggled to take in the situation; his eyelids quickly dilated and his lungs rattled
Had a stranger just called him by an official title? Did he?
He remained rigid until the incomprehensible young man in a blue suit straightened over his forearm. He managed to decipher her features when the servant spread her out on the edge of the partition parked in the corner next to a decanter of water that seemed to be waiting to be approached. He flinched again when a second young man came through the door, pulling a golden carriage like the ones he saw in movies, topped with engraved plates and carved goblets.
What was the idea of adding a peacock crest on top of everything?
"By the way, Count, you must stop your soirées with the ladies these days; the Grand Countess is about to return and she may not be happy about this. Not after what happened last time."
The boy sent him a sideways smile, as if hinting at something familiar, but Louis didn't understand a word he said. He was still trying to process his nickname, the Count, the reason for the peacocks painted around him, and how he came to that particular place.
He watched him pour a hot drink by upsetting a mug containing two sugar cubes. It was tea. Louis wouldn't have missed the distinct smell even if he lost his memory or fell dead, breathing his last. He was too aware of the vapors floating around him to see the serious look on the boy's face.
"I also spoke to Liam about what happened because of Seraphina last night. She's become a disgrace to the palace, Count, and if you don't remove her now, she'll bring a lot of scandal to those walls."
Louis was too far gone to listen intently, but as the name fell upon him, it struck a chord with him. The name seemed all too familiar to his muddled mind. Seraphina, he'd heard it before, in a voice he knew well, in a place he'd rather be in now, in front of a painting whose mention made him recoil harshly in comprehension
All that was on his mind was the image of an absent blonde.
The memory of them standing in front of a portrait of his doppelganger jolted his mind, and he became like a lost, lonely outcast searching for his traveling companion. He knew that breaking the school's rules would have dire consequences.
"Drink your tea, Count, for you have a busy day ahead." The unknown boy urged him with a small smile. Louis looked at the swaying surface of the tea in the mug and his terrified gaze was reflected back, framed by only one question.
What happened to Sam?
Her two jewels glittered in amazement
The light from a triangular candlestick on a huge dressing table shaded her gaze as it looked at the woman incomprehensibly. Her hair had grown to the end of her back, which astonished her. Her nightgown was slipping off her shoulder, freely showing off her charms beneath it, which shocked her. She had a mature body, with overwhelmingly feminine features. She was no longer seventeen, but a woman in her twenties.
"What the..." she muttered, running her fingers over her features, the traces of sleep having melted away and replaced by complete confusion. What an interesting dream, how real it had seemed, so real that she hoped to be this beautiful when she was the same age. Her musings were interrupted by a loud knock on the door, followed by a sharp woman's voice from outside. "You'd better get ready, Seraphina, or the Count will be even angrier than he already is."
"Serafina..." she repeated the name softly, turning to the woman after the woman's menacing voice faded away. "Serafina, Serafina, Serafina." She repeated it absently, savoring its familiar sound on her tongue. Was she dreaming that she was a woman from another time now? Because she looked like one.
She tore her eyes from the mirror to scan the corners of the room, which was very vast, filled with puffy furniture embroidered in an antique way that didn't really suit her taste. Sam raised her mouth in distaste and advanced toward the tall dresser on the right, peering through it with a scrutinizing look; she couldn't contain her astonishment
The number of dresses in different colors was enough to make her drool. They resembled the fashions she saw in magazines and old-fashioned shows. She picked out a turquoise dress that consisted of a fluffy skirt and a waist-cinching jacket with straps that cinched the chest. It looked nice, but it didn't stay that way for long.
Putting it on was quite a challenge. It fitted her curvy body and accentuated her charms in a way she liked; it made her feel like a fully grown, beautiful woman. Was it so bad that she liked the situation and wanted to never wake up from her dream?
She ran a hairbrush gently through her locks, enjoying its length and thickness in a way she'd never imagined possible. Many bottles and utensils crowded the dressing table, and she was about to follow her head's urge to inspect them only to be awakened—a second knock from behind the door that made her flinch, cursing under her breath.
"Serafina! Open that door right away!"
Apparently, she was the one who was impulsive; she moved anxiously forward, turning the key inside the handle so it would click open, revealing a woman she reminded her of the head matron at school. She had a thick face and bulging eyes with clumped lids. Her black hair with gray streaks pulled back tightly, adding sharpness to her features.
"What are you wearing?"
The first thing the madam gave her was a sneering look, which she wiped away after her disapproving remark. Yes, Sam might not know how to wear those dresses, but she saw she looked good in them, so there was no need for an angry woman to bully her.
"I liked the color of it," she justified, surprised by how hard her tone was and how cold her eyes were, a look of defiance she hadn't intended. The madam didn't seem surprised by her manner, but simply knitted her brows sternly. "You must be begging for a death sentence with those actions, Seraphina! Come in at once and change..."
"Excuse me." He interrupted the lady's order, which Sam was about to boldly object to. This was her dream, and she would not take orders from a woman of her own imagination.
They noticed the man wearing a guard uniform, emblazoned with a blue peacock emblem, standing before them with a stoic expression.
"The Count wishes to see Seraphina immediately."
She expected the strict lady to object, but she did not. Sam stood up straight, proud of her dress, which the woman did not like. If she could, she would have prevented her from fulfilling the request of the man who had come at the Count's invitation. It felt like a very familiar situation, as if it had happened before or she was used to it, so she did not need guidance to begin following the guard's steps up the stairs covered with a dark blue carpet. Incomprehensible paintings traced the path with masterpieces of gold and precious stones. Everything glittered and glowed in the heart of her fascinated irises
If this was just a dream of hers, it was amazing how much imagination she possessed to envision such luxurious things. She continued to gaze at the chandeliers with candles burning a fierce red, until she felt the carpet beneath her bare feet send an unpleasant shiver through her body.
When they reached a long, dimly lit corridor, they met a broad man with a penetrating gaze and a solid build that made Sam swallow. She had a suspicious subconscious to imagine all these vague people. The guard bowed to him before leaving, leaving her in the company of the unknown man, who gave her a scrutinizing look that made her frown in annoyance, and he smiled.
"I swear you have a strong desire to die."
She didn't understand whether it was a threat or a warning
The man who knocked on the door turned around before opening it, beckoning her to enter. She calmed her strained breaths and left, feeling a hateful burden on her heart as she faced the back of an entity that was sitting in front of a mirror in a huge office room decorated with blue lotus flowers
Seraphina is here as you ordered, Your Honor." The grim man announced before he bolted, closing the door behind him. She fiddled with her fingers in confusion as the man's back slowly turned to face her. Their eyes met, their lids widening for a moment.
"Sam!"
"Louis?"
The blonde didn't get a moment's pause as Louis, in his cool brocade suit, rushed over to embrace her warmly, like someone had found a branch in the thicket. His embrace felt strange, uncomfortable, like it was something they shouldn't be doing, not even thinking about. She had a terrible urge to push him away, and she didn't understand why
"God, I've been so worried, wondering where you are and what happened to you." He hissed in a terrified tone, tightening his hug as tightly as she could bear it. It would have been a good hug if she hadn't had the urge to push back with all her might. "...and those people, they're so suspicious and scary. I was afraid of what might have happened to you."
Louis patted the back of her head gently and walked away, placing his blue eyes in front of her emerald ones. She didn't speak or move, but continued to stare at him blankly. He shook his neck at her, confused. "What's wrong?"
"You look like him."
"Like who?"
That man in the painting. The peacock. You look just like him in that suit and that beard. You have a beard.' She finished her whisper, running her hand over his chin, which bore a nice, trimmed beard that gave him a dignified appearance. At any different time, she would have complimented her, but they were in real trouble now. If this wasn't some kind of dream, then where were they?
"I'm probably thirty."
She hummed, engrossed for several seconds by absentmindedly stroking his beard, before her eyelids widened and she returned her attention to him, feeling her voice creeping up her throat in a murmur. "What happened? Where are we? And why do these people think you're Kunta? Are we in the kind of dream we're lucid in?"
"It can't be that we're dreaming together. Is it?"
"True. True." She repeated, her wandering eyes darting around the room until they settled on a wide canvas, hard to miss with the majesty of the towering man who stood in a red robe with a white fur collar, a long beard and hair that reached behind his ears, possessing piercing eyes that made her feel as if he were looking right into her soul. This wasn't a pleasant dream anymore.
"Do you think we're dead?"
"What?" Louis asked, his lips twitching in surprise at her thinking. But he didn't blame her; he was losing his temper at his ignorance of the truth of what had happened and his attempt to come up with a comforting explanation.
"Or maybe we traveled through time."
"Scientifically, that's impossible."
"So what's your explanation? We're now in those strange clothes with people who think we're two other people?" Sam raised an eyebrow, slyly, and smiled when he closed his mouth without answering. "Come to think of it, it's the only thing that makes sense. We somehow traveled through time, and you became the peacock, and I became Seraphina, one of the palace maids ,
it seems."
She had given him an eager glint of insight into her explanation, and that didn't reassure him. They needed to slow down, to consider calmly what they found themselves in. He couldn't be a cruel Kunta, he couldn't be the ruler of the kingdom. He only knew how to control his life.
He blinked when the blonde swung her fist in front of his eyes; he bristled, facing her face shining with an enthusiasm that wasn't admirable at the moment. Why was she pleased, as if they weren't stuck in a strange time? Why did he have to be the only one who felt the seriousness of the situation?
"Don't stress about it," she urged him, following his movement past her to pace the study, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. Sam threw her arms in the air and expressed her eagerness. "Enjoy what's here! We're two people now we wouldn't have dreamed of being! We have people serving us, a palace to live in, and endless dresses! We're adults now. Have you looked at me? I'm a woman in real lingerie."
She was teasing him with her indifference. He tried to control the anger that had been gnawing at his heart since he opened his eyes to that world, and it seemed that the blonde was his way of defeating it. He looked over his shoulder with a piercing gaze that he scanned her with, and grimaced. "You look like a woman who sleeps with men for money behind the bars of the square."
That wasn't what he meant to say at all!
It was as if the words slipped freely without complying with his desire. His gaze didn't change as he saw her widen her eyelids in indignation at his insulting comment and clasped her hands behind her back with a haughty look. "That's extremely impudent coming from the mouth of a nobleman like you. You are noble, aren't you?"
His mouth lifted into a thin smile as he straightened up to approach her again. The intensity of her gaze prepared for him a look of rebellion and stubbornness that he had been accustomed to and sought to tame with his burning blue steel. He captured his fingers along a lock of her flowing hair and gently licked his lower lip
No respectable woman leaves her room in a dress that reveals her charms unless she was deliberately showing them off in the first place. Did she do that on purpose?
"Maybe."
She met him defiantly, and his lips widened silently.
The situation suddenly electrified with an incomprehensible heat, and a spark grew between them that seemed familiar but was also strange, as if the event was happening and Sam or Louie had no hand in it, as if they were just leaving us to the situation and getting lost in its waves.
"Ah Seraphina..." He sighed loudly, letting his hand fall from her hair to her collarbone protruding from the open chest of the dress. He felt her shiver as his fingers slowly ran, and he shook his head with the ghost of his sharp smile
"You know you should never go out dressed like that. You know I might be unable to stand your stubbornness one time and do something we both know you won't like. I've tried not to get angry so many times that I've gotten bored, and you wouldn't like seeing me angry. Would you?"
His hand stopped between her breasts, his fingers raking the band of her dress as he studied her frowning features, looking up at him with mocking eyes and manipulating lips. "I'd love to see how long you can resist. You've done well so far, Count. But for how long?"
They were like a fox and its hunter, quarreling endlessly.
He raised his eyebrows lightly and lowered his eyes to the spot where his hand was resting above her despite her stubbornness. He released his voice in a whisper. "Until execution becomes a better option than sleeping with you."
She roughly removed his grip, clenched her jaw tightly, and held her head high with pride and defiance. Two looks someone like her wouldn't have expected to receive from a palace girl, but she was an exception. Let's see who has the longest breath then
He smiled.
The atmosphere was charged with an argument that had been going on for years, an ongoing gamble in which each side was tougher and more determined. Their cold, rebellious looks remained until there was a knock at the door, and Liam, the High Chancellor of the Kingdom's ruler, entered with his soft voice.
"Excuse me, Count. Sir Henry Ba Rogom has just come and requests an audience with you on an important matter."
"Let him in." The Count ordered without taking his eyes off the blonde, before gently caressing her cheek with his index finger, causing her to turn her face away from him with a spark pursued by his low voice. "Put on a shirt under that dress, okay? I don't like others seeing what I alone should see."
There she was. Her curse was on the tip of her tongue, almost snarling and almost passing her lips, but the entrance of the alleged feudal lord, Henry Bargum, made her swallow her curse and mutter her words for another time as she moved to leave with a raging anger nestling in her chest.
It was only at that moment that Louis and Sam were able to comprehend the extent to which they were involved in more than one ancient time. They weren't just stuck in the bodies of two different people, they were living their lives as well!
Dizziness. He felt terribly dizzy.
Every cell in his head throbbed with intoxication. He wasn't even supposed to know what it was, but his vision, which was terribly wobbly, and his body, which seemed to be lying at the bottom of a distant ocean with a rock perched on his chest, knew that these were symptoms of some kind of intoxication.
He also knew that he was very unwell.
He made a commendable effort to part his eyelids.
His eyelashes fluttered repeatedly, shaking off the weight of his eyes and dispelling the film of sailing fog. He soon succeeded, facing a ceiling far away, painted white and inlaid with lofty gold patterns that made him knit his brows in disinterest
Since when have school ceilings been shiny and intact without cracks? He leaned on his hands and rose very slowly, scanning the vast room with a face filled with the most wonderful expressions of astonishment. He must have been hallucinating or daydreaming a lot. He was possessed by the most terrible headache he had ever experienced, and he noticed the bed, which was king-sized, with expensive covers and numerous pillows, and was also very soft. No wonder his body groaned from relaxing on that piece of cotton candy.
The windowpanes were painted a cool blue, and the sunlight cast heavenly shades on them. He would have contemplated them with fascination had he not been staring at the carvings painted on top of the entire wall. The picture of a fluffy peacock added to the majesty of the place. What was this place, really?
The door opened suddenly; he flinched
He was in a state of panic, almost collapsing, feeling that he was losing control of himself and his breathing. His eyes fell on the tall man with the styled brown hair and the old-fashioned suit that belonged to the servant class of the ancient centuries, as he had read in a book last week
The boy, who wasn't very old at all, seemed surprised to see him, tensing up before the former smiled and stepped forward to stand at the foot of the bed where Louis was curled up in the covers, his gaze screaming panic.
"It's good to see you're actually awake, sir."
Had a stranger several years his senior just called him sir? Louis swallowed with an excited shudder. Where did he come from, why did he happen, where was he, who was he? These were all questions crowding his idle mind, so he could only give the waiting boy a completely bewildered look. As if his state was something completely normal.
"Where am I?"
It was a logical question; he made sure to make it so, rolling it over his tongue. So when the young man's mouth widened until two hollow dimples formed in his cheeks, he frowned in amusement at why he was smiling like that. Did he just find strangers in a king-sized bed every morning? God, how many people had touched the same covers before him.
"You're in your room at this hour.
After the dance last night, I took you here so you could get some rest."
Many vague things came out of the young man's quiet answer. He was in his room, where the person standing before him had taken him after a dance the night before. No, he certainly hadn't gone mad; no doubt, it was a special golden dream that he would remember as soon as he woke up. He tried to pinch himself surreptitiously, but it was an unsuccessful trick, which he decided to blame on fantasy movies, and he only got pain
He was completely lost, and it showed to the steadily smiling boy. "It seems the liquor hasn't gone away yet, Count," the young man commented, retreating to a massive cabinet, which he opened to rummage through its contents while Louis struggled to take in the situation; his eyelids quickly dilated and his lungs rattled
Had a stranger just called him by an official title? Did he?
He remained rigid until the incomprehensible young man in a blue suit straightened over his forearm. He managed to decipher her features when the servant spread her out on the edge of the partition parked in the corner next to a decanter of water that seemed to be waiting to be approached. He flinched again when a second young man came through the door, pulling a golden carriage like the ones he saw in movies, topped with engraved plates and carved goblets.
What was the idea of adding a peacock crest on top of everything?
"By the way, Count, you must stop your soirées with the ladies these days; the Grand Countess is about to return and she may not be happy about this. Not after what happened last time."
The boy sent him a sideways smile, as if hinting at something familiar, but Louis didn't understand a word he said. He was still trying to process his nickname, the Count, the reason for the peacocks painted around him, and how he came to that particular place.
He watched him pour a hot drink by upsetting a mug containing two sugar cubes. It was tea. Louis wouldn't have missed the distinct smell even if he lost his memory or fell dead, breathing his last. He was too aware of the vapors floating around him to see the serious look on the boy's face.
"I also spoke to Liam about what happened because of Seraphina last night. She's become a disgrace to the palace, Count, and if you don't remove her now, she'll bring a lot of scandal to those walls."
Louis was too far gone to listen intently, but as the name fell upon him, it struck a chord with him. The name seemed all too familiar to his muddled mind. Seraphina, he'd heard it before, in a voice he knew well, in a place he'd rather be in now, in front of a painting whose mention made him recoil harshly in comprehension
All that was on his mind was the image of an absent blonde.
The memory of them standing in front of a portrait of his doppelganger jolted his mind, and he became like a lost, lonely outcast searching for his traveling companion. He knew that breaking the school's rules would have dire consequences.
"Drink your tea, Count, for you have a busy day ahead." The unknown boy urged him with a small smile. Louis looked at the swaying surface of the tea in the mug and his terrified gaze was reflected back, framed by only one question.
What happened to Sam?
Her two jewels glittered in amazement
The light from a triangular candlestick on a huge dressing table shaded her gaze as it looked at the woman incomprehensibly. Her hair had grown to the end of her back, which astonished her. Her nightgown was slipping off her shoulder, freely showing off her charms beneath it, which shocked her. She had a mature body, with overwhelmingly feminine features. She was no longer seventeen, but a woman in her twenties.
"What the..." she muttered, running her fingers over her features, the traces of sleep having melted away and replaced by complete confusion. What an interesting dream, how real it had seemed, so real that she hoped to be this beautiful when she was the same age. Her musings were interrupted by a loud knock on the door, followed by a sharp woman's voice from outside. "You'd better get ready, Seraphina, or the Count will be even angrier than he already is."
"Serafina..." she repeated the name softly, turning to the woman after the woman's menacing voice faded away. "Serafina, Serafina, Serafina." She repeated it absently, savoring its familiar sound on her tongue. Was she dreaming that she was a woman from another time now? Because she looked like one.
She tore her eyes from the mirror to scan the corners of the room, which was very vast, filled with puffy furniture embroidered in an antique way that didn't really suit her taste. Sam raised her mouth in distaste and advanced toward the tall dresser on the right, peering through it with a scrutinizing look; she couldn't contain her astonishment
The number of dresses in different colors was enough to make her drool. They resembled the fashions she saw in magazines and old-fashioned shows. She picked out a turquoise dress that consisted of a fluffy skirt and a waist-cinching jacket with straps that cinched the chest. It looked nice, but it didn't stay that way for long.
Putting it on was quite a challenge. It fitted her curvy body and accentuated her charms in a way she liked; it made her feel like a fully grown, beautiful woman. Was it so bad that she liked the situation and wanted to never wake up from her dream?
She ran a hairbrush gently through her locks, enjoying its length and thickness in a way she'd never imagined possible. Many bottles and utensils crowded the dressing table, and she was about to follow her head's urge to inspect them only to be awakened—a second knock from behind the door that made her flinch, cursing under her breath.
"Serafina! Open that door right away!"
Apparently, she was the one who was impulsive; she moved anxiously forward, turning the key inside the handle so it would click open, revealing a woman she reminded her of the head matron at school. She had a thick face and bulging eyes with clumped lids. Her black hair with gray streaks pulled back tightly, adding sharpness to her features.
"What are you wearing?"
The first thing the madam gave her was a sneering look, which she wiped away after her disapproving remark. Yes, Sam might not know how to wear those dresses, but she saw she looked good in them, so there was no need for an angry woman to bully her.
"I liked the color of it," she justified, surprised by how hard her tone was and how cold her eyes were, a look of defiance she hadn't intended. The madam didn't seem surprised by her manner, but simply knitted her brows sternly. "You must be begging for a death sentence with those actions, Seraphina! Come in at once and change..."
"Excuse me." He interrupted the lady's order, which Sam was about to boldly object to. This was her dream, and she would not take orders from a woman of her own imagination.
They noticed the man wearing a guard uniform, emblazoned with a blue peacock emblem, standing before them with a stoic expression.
"The Count wishes to see Seraphina immediately."
She expected the strict lady to object, but she did not. Sam stood up straight, proud of her dress, which the woman did not like. If she could, she would have prevented her from fulfilling the request of the man who had come at the Count's invitation. It felt like a very familiar situation, as if it had happened before or she was used to it, so she did not need guidance to begin following the guard's steps up the stairs covered with a dark blue carpet. Incomprehensible paintings traced the path with masterpieces of gold and precious stones. Everything glittered and glowed in the heart of her fascinated irises
If this was just a dream of hers, it was amazing how much imagination she possessed to envision such luxurious things. She continued to gaze at the chandeliers with candles burning a fierce red, until she felt the carpet beneath her bare feet send an unpleasant shiver through her body.
When they reached a long, dimly lit corridor, they met a broad man with a penetrating gaze and a solid build that made Sam swallow. She had a suspicious subconscious to imagine all these vague people. The guard bowed to him before leaving, leaving her in the company of the unknown man, who gave her a scrutinizing look that made her frown in annoyance, and he smiled.
"I swear you have a strong desire to die."
She didn't understand whether it was a threat or a warning
The man who knocked on the door turned around before opening it, beckoning her to enter. She calmed her strained breaths and left, feeling a hateful burden on her heart as she faced the back of an entity that was sitting in front of a mirror in a huge office room decorated with blue lotus flowers
Seraphina is here as you ordered, Your Honor." The grim man announced before he bolted, closing the door behind him. She fiddled with her fingers in confusion as the man's back slowly turned to face her. Their eyes met, their lids widening for a moment.
"Sam!"
"Louis?"
The blonde didn't get a moment's pause as Louis, in his cool brocade suit, rushed over to embrace her warmly, like someone had found a branch in the thicket. His embrace felt strange, uncomfortable, like it was something they shouldn't be doing, not even thinking about. She had a terrible urge to push him away, and she didn't understand why
"God, I've been so worried, wondering where you are and what happened to you." He hissed in a terrified tone, tightening his hug as tightly as she could bear it. It would have been a good hug if she hadn't had the urge to push back with all her might. "...and those people, they're so suspicious and scary. I was afraid of what might have happened to you."
Louis patted the back of her head gently and walked away, placing his blue eyes in front of her emerald ones. She didn't speak or move, but continued to stare at him blankly. He shook his neck at her, confused. "What's wrong?"
"You look like him."
"Like who?"
That man in the painting. The peacock. You look just like him in that suit and that beard. You have a beard.' She finished her whisper, running her hand over his chin, which bore a nice, trimmed beard that gave him a dignified appearance. At any different time, she would have complimented her, but they were in real trouble now. If this wasn't some kind of dream, then where were they?
"I'm probably thirty."
She hummed, engrossed for several seconds by absentmindedly stroking his beard, before her eyelids widened and she returned her attention to him, feeling her voice creeping up her throat in a murmur. "What happened? Where are we? And why do these people think you're Kunta? Are we in the kind of dream we're lucid in?"
"It can't be that we're dreaming together. Is it?"
"True. True." She repeated, her wandering eyes darting around the room until they settled on a wide canvas, hard to miss with the majesty of the towering man who stood in a red robe with a white fur collar, a long beard and hair that reached behind his ears, possessing piercing eyes that made her feel as if he were looking right into her soul. This wasn't a pleasant dream anymore.
"Do you think we're dead?"
"What?" Louis asked, his lips twitching in surprise at her thinking. But he didn't blame her; he was losing his temper at his ignorance of the truth of what had happened and his attempt to come up with a comforting explanation.
"Or maybe we traveled through time."
"Scientifically, that's impossible."
"So what's your explanation? We're now in those strange clothes with people who think we're two other people?" Sam raised an eyebrow, slyly, and smiled when he closed his mouth without answering. "Come to think of it, it's the only thing that makes sense. We somehow traveled through time, and you became the peacock, and I became Seraphina, one of the palace maids ,
it seems."
She had given him an eager glint of insight into her explanation, and that didn't reassure him. They needed to slow down, to consider calmly what they found themselves in. He couldn't be a cruel Kunta, he couldn't be the ruler of the kingdom. He only knew how to control his life.
He blinked when the blonde swung her fist in front of his eyes; he bristled, facing her face shining with an enthusiasm that wasn't admirable at the moment. Why was she pleased, as if they weren't stuck in a strange time? Why did he have to be the only one who felt the seriousness of the situation?
"Don't stress about it," she urged him, following his movement past her to pace the study, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. Sam threw her arms in the air and expressed her eagerness. "Enjoy what's here! We're two people now we wouldn't have dreamed of being! We have people serving us, a palace to live in, and endless dresses! We're adults now. Have you looked at me? I'm a woman in real lingerie."
She was teasing him with her indifference. He tried to control the anger that had been gnawing at his heart since he opened his eyes to that world, and it seemed that the blonde was his way of defeating it. He looked over his shoulder with a piercing gaze that he scanned her with, and grimaced. "You look like a woman who sleeps with men for money behind the bars of the square."
That wasn't what he meant to say at all!
It was as if the words slipped freely without complying with his desire. His gaze didn't change as he saw her widen her eyelids in indignation at his insulting comment and clasped her hands behind her back with a haughty look. "That's extremely impudent coming from the mouth of a nobleman like you. You are noble, aren't you?"
His mouth lifted into a thin smile as he straightened up to approach her again. The intensity of her gaze prepared for him a look of rebellion and stubbornness that he had been accustomed to and sought to tame with his burning blue steel. He captured his fingers along a lock of her flowing hair and gently licked his lower lip
No respectable woman leaves her room in a dress that reveals her charms unless she was deliberately showing them off in the first place. Did she do that on purpose?
"Maybe."
She met him defiantly, and his lips widened silently.
The situation suddenly electrified with an incomprehensible heat, and a spark grew between them that seemed familiar but was also strange, as if the event was happening and Sam or Louie had no hand in it, as if they were just leaving us to the situation and getting lost in its waves.
"Ah Seraphina..." He sighed loudly, letting his hand fall from her hair to her collarbone protruding from the open chest of the dress. He felt her shiver as his fingers slowly ran, and he shook his head with the ghost of his sharp smile
"You know you should never go out dressed like that. You know I might be unable to stand your stubbornness one time and do something we both know you won't like. I've tried not to get angry so many times that I've gotten bored, and you wouldn't like seeing me angry. Would you?"
His hand stopped between her breasts, his fingers raking the band of her dress as he studied her frowning features, looking up at him with mocking eyes and manipulating lips. "I'd love to see how long you can resist. You've done well so far, Count. But for how long?"
They were like a fox and its hunter, quarreling endlessly.
He raised his eyebrows lightly and lowered his eyes to the spot where his hand was resting above her despite her stubbornness. He released his voice in a whisper. "Until execution becomes a better option than sleeping with you."
She roughly removed his grip, clenched her jaw tightly, and held her head high with pride and defiance. Two looks someone like her wouldn't have expected to receive from a palace girl, but she was an exception. Let's see who has the longest breath then
He smiled.
The atmosphere was charged with an argument that had been going on for years, an ongoing gamble in which each side was tougher and more determined. Their cold, rebellious looks remained until there was a knock at the door, and Liam, the High Chancellor of the Kingdom's ruler, entered with his soft voice.
"Excuse me, Count. Sir Henry Ba Rogom has just come and requests an audience with you on an important matter."
"Let him in." The Count ordered without taking his eyes off the blonde, before gently caressing her cheek with his index finger, causing her to turn her face away from him with a spark pursued by his low voice. "Put on a shirt under that dress, okay? I don't like others seeing what I alone should see."
There she was. Her curse was on the tip of her tongue, almost snarling and almost passing her lips, but the entrance of the alleged feudal lord, Henry Bargum, made her swallow her curse and mutter her words for another time as she moved to leave with a raging anger nestling in her chest.
It was only at that moment that Louis and Sam were able to comprehend the extent to which they were involved in more than one ancient time. They weren't just stuck in the bodies of two different people, they were living their lives as well!