"Emilia" Armand said, his voice smooth, deliberate.
"Yes, master." Emilia, the maid, bowed at his words.
"Leave us be."
She looked up at him for a brief moment, hesitating, but then objected.
"But—""
"Enough, leave us be" Armand interrupted her with his smooth voice, it was almost terrifying, like a serpent coiling around her neck.
Emilia bowed stiffly and turned to go, sparing Edward one last uncertain look before stepping out and closing the door behind her.
The click of the latch sounded far too final.
Edward stood frozen, unsure whether he was supposed to speak first.
Armand walked around the desk and stopped just a few feet away, boring holes into him with his intense gaze.
"So you've forgotten." His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous in the way he said it, not anger, not exactly, but weight.
"Tell me then, ...what exactly do you remember?"
"Um… I remember… lights? And… tires screeching? Then…" He trailed off, realizing how insane that must sound here.
The Duke's brow furrowed. "Tires?"
Edward froze. "…Uh. I mean—fire. Fire. I said fire."
For a second, he thought he saw something flicker in the Duke's expression—confusion? amusement? but it was gone as quickly as it came.
Then came the familiar, dreaded sound.
Ding!
[ Quest Update: Convice Lord Armand that you are his student. ]
[ Failure will result in disciplinary measures ]
Edward flinched inwardly.
Disciplinary measures? what does that mea-
"Speak" Armand interrupted his thoughts, his tone sharper now, making him actually flinch.
Edward snapped his mouth shut, his mind spinning, the glowing panel taunting him in the corner of his vision.
This stupid system!
He lamented his horrible luck, then opened his mouth, not exactly sure about what was going to come out of it.
"I, uhh..." He hesitated.
"All I remember is waking up to a group of knights circling me!"
Armand just stared at him, his gaze sharp.
Edward's words died in his throat. He could feel the man's gaze like a weight pressing against his skin—calm, polite, and yet carrying an unmistakable authority that made him want to shrink into the floor.
He swallowed hard. His mind scrambled for something, anything, that wouldn't sound completely insane.
"I just… don't really remember much," he said finally, the words tumbling out awkwardly. "When i woke up, people were shouting, some noble lady nearly bit my head off, and then I was dragged here."
Armand said nothing. He simply regarded Edward in silence, fingers laced behind his back.
The glow of the system panel flickered faintly in Edward's peripheral vision, mocking him with its cheerful indifference.
[ Quest Progress: 23% ]
[ Convince Armand your condition is natural. ]
[ Caution: Suspicion Level Rising. ]
Edward resisted the urge to curse aloud.
"You have no recollection of the Verdigris affair?" Armand asked at last. His voice was calm again, dangerously so.
"The what?"
That earned a pause—a long, slow inhale, followed by a subtle shake of the head. "I see."
Armand circled back to his desk, his expression giving away nothing. "The young lord of Myrvale disappears for weeks with a noble daughter, returns dressed in a skirt, and now claims amnesia."
Edward stiffened. "I... what?"
Armand's lips twitched faintly, the ghost of a smile that never reached his eyes. "I suppose we'll omit the details, for decency's sake."
Oh god. What kind of person was this body?
Edward felt a chill crawl down his spine. The air in the study seemed thicker now, the faint scent of ink and tea suddenly cloying.
"I–I'm serious," he blurted. "I don't remember anything! I just woke up like this, I swear."
Another flicker of silence. Then—unexpectedly—Armand sighed.
"I believe you, young master."
Edward blinked. "...You do?"
"Indeed." The steward gave a small nod, turning away to shuffle through some papers on his desk. "Because if this were some elaborate ruse, it would be a spectacularly poor one."
Edward stared at him, unsure whether to feel relieved or insulted.
Armand continued, his voice quiet but firm. "Still, the Duke will need to be informed. Your… condition may complicate matters further."
"The Duke?" Edward repeated, heart skipping a beat.
"Yes. Your father."
Edward paled.
Before he could protest, Armand reached into his desk and retrieved a small glass vial filled with shimmering silver liquid. It caught the candlelight like mercury.
"Drink this," he said simply, handing it over.
Edward eyed the vial warily. "What is it?"
"A restorative tonic. To soothe the nerves."
He hesitated.
"Is it… safe?"
Armand's expression didn't change. "That depends on the drinker."
"...That's not reassuring."
Still, under the steward's unblinking gaze, Edward reluctantly took the vial and sipped.
It was cold. Bitter. And somehow fizzing faintly on his tongue.
The moment he swallowed, the system chimed again.
[ Temporary Buff Acquired: Composure +10 ]
[ Side Effect: Mild Drowsiness ]
Oh, that can't be good.
Armand's voice sounded distant now. "You'll rest for the day. The Duke will speak to you once you've… recollected yourself."
Edward wanted to argue, but the sudden heaviness in his limbs silenced him. His vision swam.
The last thing he saw before darkness pulled him under was Armand watching him quietly—that faint, unreadable smile still ghosting at the corners of his lips.
***
When he woke again, the candles were out. The light outside his window had turned pale blue.
And someone was sitting at the edge of his bed.