My body tensed like a stretched string.
There was no way out… Every possible plan I could have prepared now vanished.
"What's wrong?" Aurora's voice broke my reverie.
I flinched. "N-nothing, ma'am. I was just startled."
"By the way, what's your name?" she asked.
"Kim—" I caught my breath. "...Asta," I answered, but the woman raised one eyebrow as if expecting more; I was forced to answer, "Asta Ravencrest."
Aurora nodded. "Alright."
Suddenly, she did something I never predicted; She approached and sniffed me. Startled, I took a step back.
Aurora covered her nose with her finger. "It seems you need a bath," she said softly, then walked past me.
"…Yes," I answered hoarsely, still shocked, but only now did I realize; my body reeked – a mix of sweat, dirt, and the pungent smell of stale blood. When was the last time Asta bathed?
"Ahem."
I turned at the sound of Aurora clearing her throat; She had placed a set of clothes on the bed.
"Wear this," she said. She also pointed to the bathroom, which turned out to be still within the same room. I walked over and took the clothes. But before I entered the bathroom, Aurora's voice at the door stopped me:
"Oh, right, after you bathe, come downstairs immediately. I'll be waiting for you," she said. Seeing me nod, she finally left the room, her footsteps fading away.
I entered the bathroom, closing the door slowly.
The door clicked shut.
I immediately leaned back against the door. I took the deepest breath, as if trying to inhale all the oxygen in the room – for now, I could finally be calm after that questioning session that felt like it lasted for days.
Damn! Am I going to be her slave forever?! My heart pounded wildly. Actually, it wouldn't be a problem if I became her slave: In fact, thanks to her, I was saved from the outside world that hunts me, but she is a terrifying master. I'm sure she has a hidden motive!
I rested my head fully against the door.
I want to sleep in my own lumpy bed. I want to feel the freedom of being alone in my apartment. I want to go home…
After brooding, I stepped towards the bathtub, where a large mirror hung. I looked at my reflection, hoping to see a bespectacled brat, not a pale, thin-faced boy.
Annoyed by the bandage covering my right eye – I began to remove it. As I unwound the bandage wrap by wrap, I thought; Is anyone looking for me back home? But the answer came to me instantly – no one. Friends? Only Park Ji-hun. Parents? They divorced when I was ten – I couldn't choose either because it was complicated; I preferred to stay in the apartment, even if alone. Both my parents visited me every day until I turned fourteen: They stopped visiting after that, until I was seventeen and old enough to take care of myself.
They now have new families and children of their own.
But that was better, I thought; when my parents visited and accidentally coincided, they would end up fighting badly again in front of me. Then I realized something; they visited me not because they wanted to see their child, but because they were afraid of being charged with child neglect. I could see it in their faces; their fake smiles, their formal questions unlike real parents, their slumped shoulders: They saw me as an obligation to be fulfilled. I was like the garbage from their broken relationship.
Their presence after I turned fourteen and beyond was the money consistently sent to my phone every week, at the exact same second, minute, and hour, as if it was automated to be on time.
My chest felt incredibly tight thinking that no one would be looking for me. Perhaps that money would keep being sent to my phone even after I'm gone.
I let out a sigh. Alright, let's not think about that for now. I need to keep living until I find a way home.
The bandage on my head was completely off – still damp with fresh blood. I moved closer to the mirror, examining the wound on the right side at the back of my head. Asta's white hair made the blood color stand out starkly.
Was my skull cracked? The texture around the wound was very soft, as if there was no bone. I wondered how Asta could still be alive with this injury. Was he actually dead, and is it an effect of the Transmigration or healing from that woman that saved me? But… if Asta is dead, why do I feel his emotions?
In the Transmigration novels I've read: usually, the main characters who enter someone's body immediately displace that person's soul and become themselves completely, even though they get the memories of the body's original owner. But memories = experiences, not a textbook or a video to be read or watched; they come directly as my own experiences, and it feels incredibly unpleasant.
Right now, I haven't received all of Asta's memories. I can't imagine if all his memories were to flood in – it would make me, Kim Dae-ho, no longer me, but Asta completely, because I have nothing of 'Dae-ho' in this world. Asta is too strong.
…
I finished my bath, most of the blood on my head was cleaned off, leaving only the parts deep inside that were hard to reach.
I buttoned my coat and then realized what I was wearing: A plain black shirt, then gray pants, and a black-dominated coat with gray accents lining it. These weren't the clothes of a slave; they were too luxurious.
"Was she serious about having me wear this?"
After that, I walked out into the stone corridor illuminated by golden lanterns, a red carpet accompanying my every step.
I felt nervous about going out because in a castle this big, there must be other inhabitants. What would they say to me? And how should I answer?
I reached the second-floor living room area and saw Aurora sitting at the dining table below. Then I found the staircase down. As I descended – my eyes scanned the surroundings: the magnificent room with a hanging lantern chandelier in the center seemed empty, and also messy – the floors were wet and littered with wine glasses.
Crack…
I accidentally kicked a glass, but Aurora didn't seem to mind; her hand pointed to the chair in front of her, seemingly… telling me to sit?
I stood beside her, not sitting because it felt impolite.
"Sit," Aurora said without turning.
"No, ma'am, I'll stand here," I answered politely. She continued eating as if she didn't hear me.
The aroma of the steak she was eating reached my nose. I had to realize my stomach was completely empty.
Grr!
My stomach suddenly growled.
"I told you, didn't I?" Aurora spoke again, this time her voice cold and threatening.
I complied, too tired and hungry to think. Then I sat down in front of her, my position now equal to hers, and the food I was about to eat was the same: she didn't differentiate at all. Overthinking had made me forget my hunger, and now I was going to eat steak!
I devoured it with a fork, trying to remain polite despite being extremely hungry. The steak tasted delicious, its seasoning very different from anything on Earth, or maybe it always tasted this good and I'd just never eaten steak before!
Suddenly, a hand made of wood reached past my shoulder and took the empty plate, followed by the emerging head – it was a human-sized wooden doll that was moving?!
I choked. Coughing violently, the doll suddenly turned to me, showing its frightening face.
Huh! I almost jumped out of my chair.
"Calm down, it's just a servant doll," Aurora interjected, seeing me startled and afraid.
A servant doll? I nodded, swallowing my saliva, then sat back down and tried to calm myself while continuing to eat my steak. The doll finally…
"What's wrong with your face? Why are there scratch marks?" Aurora asked softly and with concern.
How did she know? She was right, I had scratched my own face. While in the bathroom, Asta's memories suddenly flooded in more intensely than before; afraid of losing myself, I unconsciously clawed at my face, leaving scratch marks. But the wounds were small and wouldn't be noticeable unless someone was looking closely. So she was paying attention to me?
I looked at her politely and answered, "I-I accidentally scratched my face, but it's fine, ma'am, it's just a minor wound."
Aurora returned to her meal after hearing my answer. I heard the creaking of wood to my left. Turning, I saw the dolls that had startled me earlier, but this time there were about seven of them cleaning up the messy room.
I swear if I saw moving dolls like that on Earth, I would run away in fear, but in this world, things like that seemed normal.
"Why do you look so surprised?" Aurora broke my trance, but before I could answer, she rested her head on her hand, watching the dolls. "This house is too big. I can't clean it all by myself, so I use those magic dolls. I just have to fill them with Mana."
I nodded, almost imperceptibly, surprised that she was sharing something so personal.
I continued my meal, but my mind was still stuck on her statement. At first, I didn't believe she was alone, because this room was a mess and there must have been a party here last night. But after a while, I hadn't seen any other signs of life. Where did the people from last night's party go? I remembered again that night, when Aurora was crying; she looked so fragile, tired, to the point she vented on a slave, and it seemed she didn't remember doing that to me. What happened to make the now elegant Aurora in front of me cry like that? Was it because of last night's party? Knowing that Aurora was alone changed my perspective of her. Maybe she's just lonely and needs someone, she doesn't want me to run away so she threatened me like that?
I almost concluded that in my heart, but I caught myself and shook my head. No. No. She is very smart; maybe this is just Manipulation from this cunning woman. I must remain cautious.
"Oh, right, you will only be my slave for two months," Aurora said suddenly.
I choked again.