The day after the king’s visit, Varre finally managed to get out of bed. Zarkon watched him like a hawk, making sure that the prince wasn’t overexerting himself during this exercise. Benjamin made sure to walk right alongside his liege, hands ready to catch him at a moment’s notice. Even the twins stood off to the side, watching the scene with curious expressions.

  Varre approached the window, eager to finally see the outdoors. His manor was located up on some hill, which provided him with a beautiful view of the entire city. If he still had any doubts about this whole thing being an elaborate prank, they completely disappeared by now. There was no way anyone could put that many resources into a simple joke. This really was another world. Though he did push his hand through the window, just to make sure it wasn’t a screen.

  The city reminded him of those picturesque European towns he’d seen that one time he came over the pond on vacation. The buildings closest to his house must have been inhabited by wealthy merchants or nobles. They were all clean and decorated with statues and stained glass. The street was a wide boulevard, with trees on both sides. Several carriages rode through it, carrying passengers around the city. Most people were mostly elegantly dressed, in striking colors and expensive outfits. Servants and commoners walked among them too, though they weren’t as visible, wearing more muted colors and keeping closer to the walls of buildings.

  Varre recognized that this must have been a wealthy quarter. The buildings further away did not look as large, or clean. Though it wasn’t easy to see many details at such distances. The city was surrounded by a wall studded with towers. Even further away, he saw plenty of fields, occasionally dotted with small villages. Off in the horizon, he saw some hills and forests.

  Though he felt like he could look out of this window for hours, he knew there’d be time for that later. Now, he was here to walk and stretch his muscles. He stepped away and returned to walking around the bedroom.

  After a couple of minutes, Varre decided to keep going and explore the upper floor of the manor further. Benjamin was far too worried about the stairs to allow the prince to visit the ground floor just yet.

  The second story was already far larger than the house Varre grew up in, back on Earth. He explored his parent’s bedroom, filled with an even larger, more expensive bed and more exquisite furniture. He saw a bathroom, lined with tiles. There was even a toilet, though it disappointed him greatly. Instead of a ceramic bowl, like he was used to, it was a simple wooden board with a hole in the middle. He’d need quite a bit of time to adjust to that. At least there was a tub. It was a bit small for his taste and it stood on four little legs, but at least it looked hygienic.

  The prince returned to his exploration. There were a couple more guest rooms up here, currently occupied by Zarkon and his assistants, the late duke’s office, and a personal library. It wasn’t anything compared to the one back at his college, but it was still far larger than anything he’d seen in a private residence back on Earth.

  Benjamin tried to stop him from entering one of the rooms, explaining that it was simply the servant’s room. He was ignored. Varre entered, but quickly realized that the chamberlain wasn’t trying to hide anything secret after all. There were a few cupboards here, most likely for storing utensils and cleaning tools. A simple bench stood by the wall, providing servants an opportunity to rest. There was even a small fireplace, in case something had to be kept warm.

  The prince even found the room Zarkon used for his medical procedures. The old healer had requisitioned one of the guest bedrooms. Strange alchemical contraptions, scales, mortars, pestles, and rows of vials stood on every available surface. A stack of clean towels lay on top of the bed, and a wooden tub stood off in a corner. This is most likely what Zarkon used back when he was still attempting to cure the real prince. I wonder if he suspects that someone else took over the prince’s body, Varre thought, but decided to set it aside for now.

  Once he had seen everything there was to see, the prince reluctantly returned to his bed. Zarkon was satisfied with his progress and agreed that the prince was ready to face the stairs tomorrow.

  The ground floor proved to be much the same. The floors were decorated with marble instead of carpets over wood like upstairs. Varre found lavishly decorated dining and living rooms. There was also a kitchen here and several bedrooms intended for the staff. Zarkon still had not agreed for any servants to return, so the entire manor was being ran by Benjamin, Perry, and Jury. They had their work cut out for them, but at the same time, with only a single noble occupant, the workload wasn’t unmanageable.

  The cellar had a storage area, with quite a lot of food. Varre had never been much of a cook. He was far more interested in the wine barrels, though Zarkon insisted that the prince should avoid alcohol for now. Varre, technically a duke now, was sure that he could overrule such an order, but ultimately decided to listen to the healer. I don’t want to piss the guy off, the prince reasoned, after all, I don’t want to give him any reason to investigate whose soul is really occupying this body right now.

  -*-*-*-

  Varre’s strength was growing by the day. Once the entire house was explored, he spent the next few days relaxing in the small garden outside. At first, Benjamin was embarrassed by the unkempt state of the yard. After all, when Zarkon got rid of all the servants, that included the gardener and taking care of bushes was low on everyone else’s lists of priorities. Fortunately, the prince didn’t mind at all. He simply welcomed the fresh autumn air.

  A few times, he even got to see what Zarkon’s assistants were up to, when they weren’t working in the manor. This was Varre’s first tangible experience with magic.

  The two girls stood on opposite sides of a long path. Jury held up a shield, while Perry simply stood in place. As they prepared for their training exercise, both shut their eyes and appeared to concentrate. It looked like a strange shimmering energy passed through their bodies, but Varre wasn’t sure if he hadn’t simply imagined it.

  Once both were ready, Perry made the first move. She looked like a baseball pitcher, as she released a small ball of glowing energy. The former student’s eyes opened wide as he watched the scene. Just as the ball was about to hit Jury, she struck it with the shield.

  The energy exploded into sparks that harmlessly dissolved through the nearby space. As if nothing had happened, the girl got back into position and prepared to reflect the next ball.

  The training continued for about half an hour. Perry kept chucking projectile after projectile at her sister. Each time, she managed to strike against it and break it into pieces. After the first few warm up throws, Perry moved to more complicated ones. She tried to throw balls to the side, or aim at Jury’s legs instead. Still, the other girl blocked them each time.

  Varre realized that whatever they were doing was real, tangible magic. Once they were done, he asked if they could show him how it worked. Jury, excited to have a student of her own, started to cast some simple spells, showing off some basic projectiles that could be harmlessly thrown at the wall of the manor.

  Unfortunately, Zarkon saw the scene and ran out into the garden, enraged. After chastising his assistants, he forbade Varre from participating in their training again. He was reduced to watching the magical baseball games through the windows.

  Eventually, about two weeks after the prince’s awakening, Zarkon agreed that Varre had fully recovered. The final examination included the former student performing various exercises, such as jogging and push-ups. This new body isn’t quite so bad, Varre thought, I was never the most athletic guy, but now I can do these push-ups without breaking a sweat!

  The healer carefully observed his patient, writing his findings into a small notebook he carried. In between each exercise, the prince would stop and have to be reexamined. Zarkon would first measure his pulse, then bring out strange, esoteric devices. He inspected Varre’s pupils and measured the air coming out of his lungs.

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  “Well my prince,” the old healer held out his hand, “I can now officially pronounce you as fully cured and recovered. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Varre shook his hand, “what does that mean exactly? Am I free to leave the manor? Can I walk around the city?”

  Zarkon smiled. “Of course! But before that, there is a feast waiting for us. I trust you did not forget the king’s invitation?”

  Naturally, Varre did not want to offend the ruler of this land. He had to go. Besides, he was rather curious about what luxuries might await him there. Zarkon too was invited. Everyone wanted to meet the miraculous healer who managed to cure one of the most dangerous diseases in the entire realm. The old man was a little nervous. Perhaps he was a bit unused to such formal occasions, but he couldn’t refuse it either. Fortunately, the two men were allowed to bring guests with them.

  Varre chose to bring Benjamin along, of course. The prince was still missing his memories. He needed someone to introduce all of the royal family members to him and to keep watch and make sure he wasn’t making a fool out of himself at the feast. Zarkon brought the twins. Unlike their teacher, they were very excited at the prospect of visiting at the royal castle.

  After spending the entire day getting ready, the group set out for the castle together. Benjamin called in a six horse carriage. It was gigantic, but as the chamberlain explained, a proper prince should never drive anything smaller. Everyone sat around on comfortable couches and settled in for the ride.

  The horses trotted on the cobblestones past the busy streets. The prince curiously looked out the windows at his surroundings. After all, this was his first opportunity to leave the manor and see the rest of the city.

  The carriage moved through the noble quarter. Just as Varre saw from his bedroom window, the houses were all richly decorated and many of the pedestrians were clearly wealthy. The boulevard was wide and other carriages passed the prince in the opposite direction. They were all well maintained, but none were as ornate as the one carrying this group.

  The castle was a short ride away. The horses kept moving up a hill, passing through a large square. Then, they crossed a drawbridge across a moat. They were briefly stopped at the gate, but the guards let them through without much fuss. They must have recognized the carriage, or the emblems imprinted on it.

  After arriving, the prince was formally greeted by a couple of well-dressed servants and led towards the throne room. In a large, magnificent chamber he saw his uncle, seated on the lavish chair, decorated with gold. A woman, most likely the queen, sat beside him and smiled warmly at the newcomer.

  “Varre!” Mikkel III called out and stretched out his arms invitingly, “I’m so glad to see you again. Come, come closer nephew.”

  The prince listened and slowly walked across the room. He saw various nobles and officials standing off to the sides, in between the grandiose columns holding up the ceiling. They all quietly gossiped about the man of the hour.

  “What should I do?” Varre whispered to Benjamin, “do I kneel?”

  “No,” the chamberlain explained, “a bow will suffice.”

  Upon arrival at the foot of the throne’s platform, the prince followed his servants advice and took a bow.

  The king stood up from the throne and walked down the steps down towards his nephew. He gave him a hug and held him in place for a couple of seconds. When the men separated, Mikkel kept his arms on the prince’s shoulders.

  “Ready for the ceremony Varre?” he asked.

  “Of course,” the prince replied.

  The king nodded and stepped away. He left the room through a door behind the throne, though the queen remained at her seat.

  Varre awkwardly looked towards his chamberlain. “What happens now?”

  “Now we wait for him to get ready. After all,” he whispered, “the king doesn’t wait for anyone.”

  After a few minutes, a herald came out from the back room and played a tune on a trumpet. All the nobles standing off to the sides straightened up. Varre, instinctively, followed suit. Then, the king came out again. He was dressed exactly the same. The same outfit, the same cape, the same crown. But this time, he carried a huge longsword, with a gem-studded pommel. Mikkel walked up the three steps leading to his throne and sat back down.

  Benjamin quietly turned to his liege, “now you should kneel, my lord.”

  Varre followed the suggestion. The chamberlain did the same. Then the king spoke with a loud voice. “People of Logres. Today, we perform a grand ceremony. You all know that the death of Duke Tymon of Logres hit all of us hard. But do not fret. For his heir, the noble Varre of Logres is with us today, ready to resume his father’s duties!”

  Cheers rang out through the room. The king waited for a few moments for them to quiet down. Then he stood up and walked down the steps again, stopping in front of his nephew. He held the longsword down, using it for support. He extended his left hand towards the prince.

  “Your highness,” Benjamin whispered, “take his hand in yours and repeat after me.”

  Varre did as he was told, and began reciting the oath of fealty. “I, prince Varre of Logres, swear to manage my fief well. I swear to offer support to King Mikkel III in whatever capacity he may require. I swear to fight alongside him in any conflict that may threaten his lands and support him until our victorious return.”

  The king briefly glanced at the surrounding nobles, but quickly turned back. “I, King Mikkel III, vow to shield your lands from any danger they may face and come to your aid whenever you may require. Your oath is accepted. I swear to support your heritage and claim over your lands. Now, arise Varre of Logres, Duke of Lindridge!”

  The gathered nobles cheered again. The prince stood up and received a congratulatory slap on the shoulder from the king. Mikkel then twisted him around, so Varre could see the crowd. As the two men stood there side by side, they could watch the gathered aristocrats clapping and cheering, both for the duke and their king.

  “What happens now?” Varre asked.

  “Now?” Mikkel smiled, “now comes the good part.”

  The king guided his nephew out of the chamber. The herald played a new tune on his trumpet and then, slowly, the rest of the nobles began to pour out behind them.

  Varre was led towards a decorated dining room. A massive table occupied the center of the room, though it was currently empty. Mikkel lead him towards the center. The king sat at the largest chair, with the new Duke of Lindridge seated to his right. A second large chair, though slightly smaller, was on the king’s left. It must have been reserved for his wife.

  Soon, the other nobles began to arrive in the room. Each walked up to Varre and introduced themselves. There were so many that there was no way he could remember them all. After the greeting, a dedicated servant would approach one and take him to his assigned seat. Fortunately, Benjamin rejoined Varre quickly. The duke was already missing his chamberlain’s support.

  Once everyone was seated, the feast began. Servants brought in dozens of plates, carrying dizzying quantities of food. At first, they began with soups. Varre had already eaten enough of them for a lifetime, but he still ate with the others. Then, the servants simply rolled up the tablecloth, along with all of the cutlery and carried the entire bundle out of the room. Surprisingly, there was a second tablecloth right below the first. The next meal consisted of plates with massive quantities of meats and vegetables. Freshly baked bread was served too.

  Throughout the night, the tablecloths kept being replaced. Varre was unused to such luxury, though he enjoyed most of the dishes. The most impressive one for him, was the massive boar that was brought in at some point. It was so heavy that it had to be wheeled in.

  The main entertainment of the night was conversation. The story of Varre’s miraculous recovery and the resultant amnesia was the main news of the day. Everyone talked about that and tried to test it for themselves, by having the duke try and recall some interesting memories from his past. He couldn’t of course.

  He did appreciate his uncle. Good old Mikkel noticed his nephew’s growing tiredness and tried to shift the topic of conversation whenever it came up.

  Zarkon was the second biggest revelation. Still, he seemed to prefer having Varre occupy most of the nobles’ attention. The twins on the other hand could focus on enjoying the good food and drinks provided on the tables. As guests of honor, they were assigned seats, just like the old healer. When Varre noticed that, he turned to Benjamin, willing to offer the same, but the chamberlain categorically refused. “That’s not proper,” he reasoned.

  The king was just as friendly as he had been when he visited Varre at the manor. He told jokes, he listened to stories, and he kept laughing almost the entire time. The duke’s position beside the king, also meant that he was one of the first to receive each new dish. The best pieces were also reserved for this side of the table.

  The feast lasted late into the night. The guests drank a ton of wine throughout the entire event. As a former college student, this wasn’t Varre’s first party, not by a long shot. But the wine served at a royal feast was far better than the cheap stuff he used to drink before. He happily drunk to his fill. I can’t believe that just a couple of weeks ago, I was worried about some stupid essay, he thought, this is so much better. Just like the beginning of the semester!

  Finally, deep into the night, the feast started coming to an end. The guests were petering out and only the most loyal, or headstrong, nobles remained. Varre was still in the mood to party, but even the king had enough at some point. Mikkel stood up, swaying and put his arms on his nephew’s shoulder. More for his own support than any friendly gesture.

  “Listen Varre,” he began, “you’re a good lad. You’ve survived the Soulkiller, you took over Lindridge. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

  “Thank you, uncle,” the duke mumbled, “I look forward to working with you.”

  The king laughed. “Me too lad, me too. I can see it. You’ve got great things ahead! Great things. Can’t wait to see ‘em!”

  And with that, the king swayed towards the exit. And the feast was over. The prince had become a duke. He was free to enjoy his newfound wealth and privilege. That’s enough partying for one day, Varre thought to himself, tomorrow… tomorrow I begin my new life as a duke!

  Will he rise up to the challenge?