Chapter 6

With the water in the tub teetering dangerously close to overflowing, he couldn't shake the feeling that disaster was imminent. The carpet fibers would quickly absorb the water, acting like a sponge, and there was no drainage system in place to handle any excess.

He let out a deep sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation wash over him. It was clear that the blame for this oversight would fall squarely on the inexperienced interior designer, who had clearly prioritized aesthetics over practicality.

“This water has soothing qualities that will help your body recover its strength more quickly.”

Alistair set the white towel next to the wooden stool as he asked.

“Shall I assist you with your garments?”

“Uh… I guess.”

Came the hesitant reply.

He is unable to move his arms and legs effectively, making it impossible for him to bathe independently or without assistance.

During this time, he remained compliant as Alistair carefully tended to his entire body. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, enveloped by the soothing warmth of the water, while Alistair worked with focused precision, his hands skillfully performing their tasks. The soft sound of water splashing filled the air, mingling with the delicate scent of soap, creating an unexpectedly tranquil atmosphere.

“Is this okay for you?”

He asked, breaking the silence that had settled around them like a thick fog.

While Alistair serves the prince, he is not directly responsible for his care. Meeting his needs is not part of his duties.

“Are you referring to bathing you?”

“Yeah.”

The man laughed softly while rinsing the bubbles from his hair.

“Of course.”

“The prince didn't force you?”

Alistair set the bucket aside and adjusted his sleeves, which had slipped down once more, revealing his toned arms.

“His Imperial Highness has been occupied and has not yet had the opportunity to reach out to me. Nevertheless, he did not instruct me to undertake this task.”

‘So he is doing all this in his own volition?’

It is rather uncommon for someone to willingly bathe a stranger. This behavior is definitely strange.

This situation raises questions about why he is being treated as if he were a true young master. The lavishness of his living conditions, along with the presence of a personal physician, suggests a lot, even without a direct order from the prince for Alistair to care for him.

‘Are they trying to gain my trust or lower my guard?’

In the end, it doesn't really matter to him. There's no point in thinking about this now when all he wants is to relax.

Speaking of the prince…

“What is the prince like?”

He thought about how to get ready for their meeting. Was the prince radiating pride, detachment, or a menacing aura? Or did he seem friendly while hiding hidden agendas behind a mask of warmth? The thought of meeting someone who could play with emotions made him uneasy.

‘Honestly, I wouldn't like any of those choices.’

Because that would mean they wouldn't truly connect. He wished the prince would show real feelings instead of just pretending.

Alistair paused briefly before continuing to rub his head.

“He is a fool.”

“What?”

He was taken aback by Alistair's unexpected reply. The words had come forth with surprising boldness, leaving him momentarily speechless. How could an employee speak to his superior in such a way?

He recalled the countless warnings he remembered about the consequences of speaking ill of the Imperial Family. Such actions could lead to dire outcomes—imprisonment, exile, or worse. The weight of tradition and hierarchy pressed heavily on his mind, yet here was Alistair, seemingly unfazed by the potential repercussions of his words.

“My advice to you, young master, is to be straightforward when conversing with him.”

So the prince favors a straightforward approach.

‘Huh. We share that trait.’

He chuckled at the thought. He dislikes people who beat around the bush too, so he felt there might be a chance to connect with the prince.

“I'll remember that.”

“Please do.”

He softly hummed while enjoying the calming bath, with steam wrapping around him like a comforting cocoon that eased the stresses of the day.

The moment he lay down on the bed, he quickly drifted off to sleep, his body sinking into the soft mattress as if it were a fluffy cloud. The weariness of the day faded away, and he fell into a deep slumber, oblivious to his surroundings. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was the only sign of his serene rest.

“Oh dear, he hasn't eaten yet.”

Alistair had planned to serve dinner at 8 PM, but the Traveler was already fast asleep. Noticing the sleeping figure, he sighed, realizing that waking him would not be possible just yet.

After making sure the Traveler was comfortable and covering him with a blanket, the long-haired butler quietly left the room, careful to preserve the peaceful atmosphere. He moved through the softly lit corridors of the estate, the gentle sound of his footsteps echoing on the polished wooden floors.

The next morning, he woke up quite early, before the sun had risen.

“I have brought you breakfast, young master.”

But not the earliest, it seems.

‘This guy…’

He was taken aback to see Alistair at his door with a breakfast trolley the moment he opened his eyes.

“Did you actually wait for me to wake up? How long have you been here?”

There is no way this guy had been standing there since the previous night, surely…?

Alistair chuckled quietly at the astonishment and moved the trolley closer to the bed.

“You have fallen asleep early last night. I merely calculated what time you will wake up.”

“Wow. Okay.”

His calculation was scarily accurate.

As soon as he saw the food, he lost his appetite.

‘Soup. Again.’

He might have enjoyed it yesterday when he was hungry, but not today. It didn't look as good as before. Furthermore, it is the exact same soup recipe he saw last night! Even though he didn't eat it then, it was definitely the same one.

With a shy smile, he boldly asks.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Can I have eggs for breakfast?”

“I regret to inform you that this herbal soup has been prescribed by your doctor to help you regain your strength.”

This means that he should consume it daily until his condition improves. In his previous world, that's how things function. Nonetheless, he is still unsure about the dynamics of this world.

“…Is there any bread or coffee?”

“I could give you some bread. However, what is coffee?”

Alistair looked curious, his brow furrowing slightly as he processed the offer.

‘They don't have coffee yet?’

In reality, he was cautioned against drinking coffee by his doctor in his previous world, as it could impede his recovery. Nevertheless, he stayed hopeful, even though the unfortunate truth was that coffee had not yet been created. He had always wanted to taste it.

With a dismissive gesture, he tried to push the craving aside.

“Forget it. Bread will do just fine.”

He said, forcing a smile.

Alistair nodded his head.

“We can do that. However, I must first consult with your physician before providing you with your request.”

“Alright. Thanks.”

The man went to fulfill his request.

With no other option available to him, he reluctantly picked up the bowl of soup that had been placed before him.

Even though the soup was warm and tasty, he felt a desire for more. He wanted something to chew on, something with a bolder flavor to satisfy his need for texture. The soup's smoothness was nice, but he craved the crunch of veggies or the hearty taste of meat. He pictured the sound of a crunchy piece of bread snapping or the rich flavor of well-seasoned chicken.

When Alistair returned, he brought nothing with him, as Doctor Happy had restricted his food intake until his blood tests were completed.

“Should you have an allergy, it is essential for us to be adequately prepared.”

Alistair finished explaining.

“But I don't have allergies!”

The hospital had already told his worried mother multiple times back in his old world.

“That could be true for you.”

“That…”

They have a valid point.

He may not have had allergies in his old world, but this place is different now. The food could be unlike anything he's had before, so he can't be sure he won't have a reaction.

‘Damn it!’

He's out of the hospital, but the food he has to eat and the places he can visit feel unchanged. Nothing seems to improve.

“…I appreciate you caring for me.”

His thanks were sincere, but he still felt quite frustrated. He was genuinely grateful, but frustration lingered.

Alistair tidied up as he repeatedly opened and closed his left hand. He had some movement now.

‘I'm recovering quickly.’

It's only been yesterday when he woke up.

The bath water must really be helping. It's unfortunate that he still couldn't walk, leaving him confined to his bed or wheelchair all day.

“Here.”

He looked at the bed where Alistair had set down fresh clothes.

“I will get you ready for your examination and assessments.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Alistair assisted him in changing his clothes and took him to the Doctor, who was five rooms away.

“I'll return when everything is finished.”

“Okay.”

The door shut quietly.

Doctor Happy was cheerful as always. She seems to be trying her best to cheer him up but unless he could use his legs again or learn his actual circumstances, he will never regain his enthusiasm.

‘Not that I have any to begin with.’

By the time they finished the test and interview, it was already lunchtime. As he had promised, Alistair showed up after they were done to take him back to his room. The man was still in his comfy clothes, looking like he had just been out for a walk before coming here.

“Come back tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure, doctor. Thanks for today.”

He bid farewell to the doctor as Alistair maneuvered his wheelchair.

“How did it go, young master?”

“Nothing important.”

The doctor merely inquired about any illnesses or allergies he possibly have and took a blood sample for the tests she intended to conduct.

‘I tried to be as honest as possible.’

The emphasis is on “tried.” Only a fool would reveal all their vulnerabilities to strangers who held them captive. Although his room might not appear to be a prison cell, it certainly feels like one.

‘They treated me well, that's true.’

Alistair was attentive, always checking in on him, making sure he was comfortable and had everything he needed. They were kind and understanding, offering gentle smiles and reassuring words, but they were still unfamiliar faces.

Each person was a stranger, a brief part of his life, sharing only the simplest facts about his condition. They explained that he had come from another world, a place that seemed like a long-lost memory, and that he had been in a coma for what seemed like forever. However, they still kept the complete truth from him.

Alistair chuckled at his response and he almost rolled his eyes.

This man is pretending he won't ask Doctor Happy about his results after bringing him to his room.

“Nevertheless, young master, I am curious to understand your feelings regarding her.”

Are you still feeling uneasy?

“… .”

He felt uncomfortable around her, but he tried hard to conceal it. He knows that even though they share similarities, they are still different people. He must not show his negative feelings to the wrong person.

“…It was okay.”

He predicted it would take him at least a week, or possibly a month, to adjust to her constant presence.

“…I also apologize for breaking the mirror.”

Remembering Dr. Happy's intense reaction when he broke her mirror made him understand its importance, leading him to bring it up first in their next meeting.

“She said it was fine.”

Alistair gave her some money along with a new contact mirror, which truly pleased her, as the incident with the old one had turned out to be advantageous. He found her boldness in the situation quite entertaining.

“That's wonderful, young master.”

Alistair praised, tone proud.

As anticipated, Alistair departed shortly after, advising him to take it easy and promising to return with his lunch in an hour.

He lay back on his bed, quietly staring at the ceiling above. If Alistair hadn't taken his wheelchair, he would have tried to use it to leave his room.

From what he had seen today, there appeared to be a lack of people in this part of the palace. The hallways were empty of guards and maids. It felt as if only he, Alistair, and Doctor Happy occupied this area. He might have thought that was true if he hadn't seen people moving outside his windows.

‘I haven't seen her assistant either.’

The one she called with the mirror the other day.

Haaa.

He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. The monotony was so intense that if he were to close his eyes, he would probably fall asleep right away—a lesson he had learned from experience.

Lost in his thoughts and unaware of his environment, he was jolted by a knock on the door.

“Young master, I am coming in.”

The door swung open, and Alistair entered with the same bland soup and water.

‘Oh god.’

How much longer could he endure this boring routine?

“Your test results will be available tomorrow, allowing you to enjoy a variety of foods then.”

He wasn't interested in chatting, so he simply nodded and ate his lunch quietly. Once he finished his meal, he took a sip of water and expressed his gratitude to Alistair for the food.

The emptiness in his gaze made Alistair pause.

Seeing that Alistair hadn't departed yet, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Are you only here to bring me my lunch?”

He questioned, his tone laced with doubt.

Alistair quickly picked up on the underlying message and responded with a cryptic smile.

“No, young master. I have come to notify you that His Imperial Highness is scheduled to return to the palace tomorrow, so please be ready for his visit.”

The prince?

So, it was finally happening. A mix of anticipation and dread washed over him, and he let out a long, weary sigh.

“Fine.”

He thought it wiser to determine their expectations of him now rather than wait several months. This way, he could prevent himself from becoming too attached to those caring for him, as they had started to feel like a temporary family in his mother's absence.

‘I'm a bit too reliant on others.’

This dependency is particularly detrimental to his mental well-being.

“Is there anything else you'd like to say?”

Even after delivering his message, Alistair stayed put. He had planned to indulge in boredom, but the person kept disturbing his peace.

“Why don’t you just go?”

He felt a persistent annoyance, having had such a refreshing sleep that he completely forgot about the plans he had made, leading to his current unease.

“You seem bored.”

Alistair observes.

“I'm glad you noticed.”

He grips his head in annoyance.

Who enjoys lying in bed with nothing to do? Not even a movie to watch! It's driving him mad! For the past two days, he had endeavored to remain courteous and compliant, but today, his patience ultimately reached its limit.