I slowly open my eyes, drowsiness clouding my mind as my vision clears, I notice a figure standing before me. His familiar face brings back patchy memories. He's the one who adopted me, took me off the streets.
But how long has it been? Days? Weeks? Time lost all meaning as I drifted in and out of sleep.
My gaze locks onto his, searching for answers.
"Why did you bring me here?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Why am I here?" I ask again.
He doesn't respond. Instead, he squats beside me, his fingers gently touching my chin as he mutters unintelligible words to himself,
He feels my cheek, checking my temperature. His silence is deafening, leaving my questions unanswered.
Frustration builds within me as he stands up, turning to leave. I throw off the covers and rush after him, my bare feet pattering against the cold floor. I reach the door just as he's about to exit.
"Wait!" I cry. "Please, tell me what's going on! Where am I?" I beg as desperation begins to creep into my voice.
"boss sent me" he replies coldly as he hurriedly walks out of sight but to my greatest joy, I wasn't locked in this time.
With him no longer in sight, I slowly step through the doorway, out of the room and quietly close the door behind me.
My bare feet is greeted by the soft, plush rug that lines the hallway. The fibers are dense and luxurious, caressing my skin like silk.
The walls, adorned with intricate tapestries, seem to whisper tales of ancient times. The texture of the stone beneath my fingertips is cool and smooth, worn by the touch of countless hands over the years.
The air is warm and inviting, filled with the scent of burning candles and the faint aroma of roasting meats. My stomach growls in response, reminding me that I'm hungry. I walk down the hallway following the enticing smell.
Servants and maids hurry about, their faces intent on their tasks. None of them spare me a glance, except for one kind-eyed woman. She pauses, her hands folded in front of her, and smiles.
"Please, where am I?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"It's almost dinner time," she replies, her tone warm and soothing. "You can join us in the great hall" she says as she begins to walk towards the great hall "I guess"
I walk behind her as my thoughts begins to pounder on how nobody seems fit enough to give a tangible answer to my simple question "where am l?"
The sound of laughter and conversation fills the air as we gradually approach the supposed great hall.
As we enter the great hall, the murmur of conversations and the clinking of silverware envelop me. I scan the room, searching for a figure of authority, someone who might be the "boss" the man from earlier mentioned. However, every face is unfamiliar, and no one stands out as the person who brought me here.
The hall is grand, with high ceilings and large windows that let in the fading light of day. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries, and the floor is made of polished stone. The long tables are laden with an assortment of dishes, and the air is filled with the savory aromas I detected earlier.
I take a seat, trying to compose myself despite my confusion. As I glance around, a servant presents me with a steaming plate of roasted meats, stewed vegetables, and freshly baked bread. The aroma of roasting meat and herbs wafts up, and my stomach growls in anticipation.
The table is laden with an assortment of fine dishes, including what appears to be roasted lamb, stewed carrots, and steaming hot bread. There are also several large jugs of wine and water, which the servants are busy pouring into cups.
As I begin to eat, I take in the details of the hall. The ceiling is high and vaulted, with large wooden beams supporting it. The walls are made of stone, and the floors are polished to a high shine. There are several large fireplaces, which are currently unlit, but I imagine they would be cozy on a cold winter's night.
Despite the grandeur of the hall, I feel out of place, unsure of who these people are or why I'm here. But for now, I'm grateful for the warm meal and the chance to rest.
As I continue eating, I notice a sudden chill in the air. The atmosphere in the room shifts, and the mood becomes subdued. I glance around, wondering what's causing the change, and that's when I see him. He stands at the entrance, his presence commanding attention.
He's a tall, imposing figure with a strong jawline and well-defined eyebrows. His beard is perfectly groomed, not too short, not too long, framing his face with precision. His eyes seem to bore into those he meets, as if sizing them up. His gaze is intense, yet captivating, drawing me in with an otherworldly pull.
He's dressed in fine attire, his clothes meticulously tailored to accentuate his broad shoulders and powerful build. The intricate embroidery on his sleeves and the sparkling gemstones on his collar hint at a life of luxury and refinement. His very presence exudes an aura of authority, as if he's a ruler returning to his kingdom.
As he walks toward the head of the table, the room falls silent. Everyone keeps eating, but their eyes dart toward him, then quickly away, as if afraid to meet his gaze. I, too, find myself stealing glances, my curiosity piqued.
He clears his throat, and the sound is like a crack of thunder, breaking the spell that's held the room hostage. He takes his seat, his movements economical and deliberate, and begins to eat, his eyes scanning the room as if daring anyone to meet his gaze.
I try to focus on my meal, but my attention keeps drifting back to him. There's something about him that draws me in, a magnetic pull that's hard to resist. I find myself wondering who this man is, and why his presence commands such respect and fear.