"His Majesty the Emperor, His Highness Prince Tristan, and Lord Samuel of the Silverfall are entering!" a voice reverberated into the room, grabbing everyone's attention.
Eight figures entered Lucien's chamber, prompting everyone present to bow and curtsey respectfully.
Leading the group was a middle-aged man with short white hair and crimson eyes, followed by a man with light brown hair and eyes, with Tristan beside him. All wore clothing that screamed of their high social standing. Five knights shadowed behind them.
Upon their arrival, the seven of them, excluding the white-haired man—presumably the Emperor—bowed reverently toward the Empress.
The Emperor fixated on the crying Empress and Lucien, then turned to the Physician. "How is my son?"
"His Highness has been stabilized. However, as a result of the traumatic event, Prince Lucien appears to have suffered memory loss—"
"What?! How is that possible?!" Tristan exclaimed, disbelief lacing his voice and features.
The Emperor raised his hand, signaling Tristan not to interfere. "Can you devise a solution?"
The Physician shook his head apologetically, "I fear such a feat is beyond my capability. While blood manipulation can, indeed, hasten the healing process, memories reside in the mind, not the blood, and cannot be mended by physical means."
"…I see," the Emperor murmured thoughtfully, his hands clenched tightly.
"How can this be…?" Tristan muttered, barely audible.
Tristan glanced at him, frustration painted on his face, teetering on the edge of fear. But his figure was obscured as the Emperor approached Lucien.
Sitting beside the Empress, he offered him a warm smile and gently stroked his hair, "Don't worry. Everything will be all right. Your memory will return."
With the last sob, the Empress released him and wiped away her tears. Rising to her feet, she faced the Emperor with an indifferent demeanor. "Lucien must rest. Please, return."
Silence.
The Emperor said nothing and stared at his wife with an indescribable expression. The atmosphere grew dramatically heavy and suffocating with tension as their eyes remained locked.
People exchanged nervous glances. Of course, they weren't foolish enough to miss the simmering rage beneath the surface. Though Lucien didn't know the inside story, he could tell it was far from trivial.
After what felt like an eternity, the Emperor eventually broke the silence with a long and deep sigh. Standing before her and staring fearlessly into her cerulean eyes, he spoke with an icy tone, "My wife is right, Lucien must rest."
The Emperor glanced at him once more before marching toward the entrance. Those present instinctively bowed as he passed, and three knights quickly positioned themselves behind him.
Tristan—whose eyes still lingered on him—stepped forward and mustered a strained smile, asking apprehensively, "Dear brother, is there a chance you might… remember me?"
He held his gaze apathetically before shaking his head. "I apologize, but I'm only familiar with your name."
Tristan froze, his face dyed with disbelief, as though the world crumbled. "I… I see." After a brief pause, he forced out a smile. "Then, I wish you a swift recovery, my dear brother. Please rest well."
Lucien nodded curtly, "Thank you."
With a final bow toward the Empress, Tristan and Samuel, accompanied by their knights, made their way to the entrance. Tristan cast a last worried glance at him before vanishing behind the door.
Lucien clicked his tongue mentally. Had he not read the novel before being thrown into this world, he might have undoubtedly believed Tristan was a truly caring brother.
The Empress whirled to the elderly butler. "Sanchez, please prepare a basin of warm water for my son's bath."
"As you wish, Your Majesty. Is there anything else you require?"
While the Empress conversed with Sanchez and the Physician, his mind drifted back to the glimpse he had seen. Given the severity of the Empress's wound, she was unquestionably dead on the spot.
Yet, here she stood, alive and well, so it couldn't have been a recollection of Lucien's memories. This left only one conclusion: it was a vision of the future. If that was the case, it perfectly aligned with the plot: just like her son, the Empress died before the story began.
But… why did he suddenly see a sight of the future?
An Extra like him, no less?
Not only that, but the fact that he couldn't control Lucien's body during the vision—did that mean the real Lucien would eventually regain control of this body, leaving his soul trapped inside?
He clutched his head at the surge of an unbearable headache. As if being thrown into the novel and fated to be killed by his half-brother wasn't bad enough, now he had to contend with the soul of 'the real' Lucien.
Whether Tristan ended his life or his body was overtaken, it seemed he was destined to perish either way, huh?