“So let’s start with the immediate needs then. Give me everything you have about yourself. Personality, basic history, relationships.”

“It’ll be your turn soon. Well, I’m a halfblood asshole that’s protected by his family. No one really wants me or cares about me.”

“What’s that?”

“Our family isn’t like most. Allegedly, we carry the blood of the dragons.”

“Uh-huh. So a halfblood only carries half of that?”

“Bingo. My sisters, and father are all ludicrously strong. And yet here I am, even swinging a sword around is difficult for me.”

“A genetic anomaly. Your family, what’re their names?”

“My father’s Charles. You’ve met him previously. And my older sisters are Estelle and Elise. They’re only a year apart, but Estelle is younger. I do have an elder brother, but he won’t be coming back for a long time.”

“And what about your mother? She’s not of dragon blood?”

“She married into the family. Marianne. She was together with father previously.”

“Got it. Then it's safe to say we have the same goal of staying alive?”

“I’ve died once. I don’t want to go through that again.”

“Coincidentally, same here. Simple then. We don’t die. Can we agree to work together for that sake?”

“Of course. Let’s establish a few more things first. One, I quite literally can’t do anything to you unless you’re willing, and vice versa. Two, if you are willing, we can switch places at any time.”

“Right. So we’re clear then? I’ll remain in charge, until there is a situation in which you would be a better fit. What’s the first thing that we need to do?”

“Father mentioned something about a princess before I collapsed. I have a suspicion that it’s about the crown princess.”

Frances nodded. She tapped on her forehead as thoughts raced through her mind. She summarised everything in her head.

That man in front of her was Francis Rayleigh. There were two sisters, and two parents in the picture. An older brother that was not relevant for the time being, due to reasons unknown. Francis, and by extension her physical body, was incapable of most things. Of note, magic, and the Rayleighs’ signature way of applying it, Aura.

She slumbered within the dream. The clouds of the worlds cleared, and she was dumped back into her body. The heat from the fever dropped. Her bed was wet from the sweat, and she crawled out. Stumbling over her own two feet, she grabbed onto a table for support.

“Oh right. Since you still have, you know, are you a woman or a man?”

“This world has magic right? Then surely there’s someone who can handle that for me. But just as a heads up, I’ll be switching between the two every so often, if the magic allows for it.”

“What? I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you just stay as the one you prefer?”

“Convenience, really.”

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“You’re an enigma.”

“There’s at least a hundred years between our times. It's not surprising, much in the same way I don’t understand why you would swear loyalty to a monarch.”

“Still, we’re the son/daughter of a duke.”

“That so? And we’re headed by a king?”

“Emperor, really. But his daughter’s of marriageable age, and she gets to choose who she marries through tests. Actually, we might be the next in line for candidates.”

“Marrying the crown princess huh?”

Stashing that thought, they made their way outside. They stood on the balcony, a soft night wind blowing. The moon shone above all else. It was a sight, something that living in the city eliminated.

They had no idea what time it was. The sole indicator was the position of the moon, but neither were well versed in that realm. Stars twinkled above, on the black curtains.

“So what are you currently?”

“For now? Until I find the magic to change myself, I’m Francis Rayleigh, the youngest son of the family.”

“Right. That clears it up, but who are you really? Like, before this whole thing?”

“Need-to-know basis, remember? If it becomes relevant, then I’ll tell you.”

Francis fumbled around. His dressing gown, drenched with sweat, stuck to his skin. The body was shorter than what he was used to.

“I can’t sleep.” He was talking to no one but himself. Those words that would never reach anyone else.

It was still hard to believe. One second, he was drowning in a river, and the other in a regal house. Was any of this real? The fingers that he had felt real. Flesh attached to bones, driven by electricity from a ball of wrinkles.

He headed back inside. Much of his new room was worlds different. Even the bed seemed like it came from a different era. A canopy hung from above, hiding its intimate treasures within. Even the wardrobe was at least the size of half an apartment room.

“So... Anyone you care about?”

“What’re you asking for?”

“Just making sure I don’t step on any toes.”

“The usual maid that deals with me is nice. Obviously, don’t bring harm to my family.”

“I don’t plan to. The family situation?”

“Complicated. My sisters dote on me, but my father just lets me do whatever I want. My mother... We don’t really talk.”

“You should, y’know. Might not get an opportunity to do so.”

“You talk like you’ve got experience. Did I step on a landmine?”

“It's fine. Never got to talk to her, so.”

Francis sat back on the bed. There was a faint rustling from outside the room. Beyond the door, what sounded like a hotel cart being pushed around echoed down the hallway.

The earliest beams of sunlight shot through the clouds. Birds sang their songs. It was a new day, and work had to be done. Someone was at the door as they knocked.

“Come in,” Francis said. He still wasn’t used to that voice.

“Milord, you’re awake.” A maid entered. She wore a Victorian style maid uniform, with red hair framing her face and freckles.

“Yes, yes. How are my parents?”

“His grace is doing well, milord. I passed him by just now, and he was conducting the morning training. Her grace is still sleeping.”

“What of my sisters?”

“They are at the training grounds as usual, milord. Did you forget?”

“It seems my fever’s affecting my thinking for a short moment. I do apologise... Amy..?”

“That is correct, milord. Should I help you get changed?”

“Thank you. It’ll be a busy day.”

Francis donned a casual dressing gown as Amy brushed his hair. Outside, on the ground level, the chanting warriors passed by. He glanced out of the window. A sizable number of people jogged along the perimeter of the estate. Headed by the father, while the sisters kept the rear. A great variety of people were in the column. Men and women mingled there, and of all walks of life. Some younger than him, and quite a few well into their middle ages.

“Well then.” Francis tied his hair into a ponytail. “Let's get started. I need craftsmen, engineers, and a whole lot more.”

“What for?”

“A weapon that will change the world forever. The gun.”