"Who are you… and how did you get here? You have ten seconds to answer."
Those words, sharp as cold blades, were the first thing the boy heard as he regained consciousness.
The language was completely unfamiliar to him, yet, inexplicably, his brain understood it as if he had been born hearing it.
"I am—"
The sentence died in his throat.
Who am I…?
For the first time since opening his eyes, the boy became aware of the emptiness inside his own mind. There was no name, no familiar face, no past—only an absolute, terrifying blankness mixed with small, scattered fragments of memories.
The sound of heels echoed across the red carpet of the hall, each step heavier than the last, as if marking a silent countdown to his fate. The pressure was so dense it felt as though it were compressing the air itself.
A woman approached him.
She was tall, imposing, and majestic.
Her long purplish-red hair flowed like dark flames, and her eyes—two living rubies—studied him with an authority that sent a chill down his spine. Her silhouette was flawless, clad in attire that accentuated every curve and reinforced her regal presence. She radiated an aura that crushed any thought of disobedience.
"Answer my question, child."
Her voice was firm and commanding, yet unhurried—like someone who was always obeyed.
The boy raised his eyes just enough to glimpse her face. She was beautiful—terrifyingly beautiful—like a living sculpture created to rule over all. The mere sight of her crimson eyes made his instincts scream at him to lower his gaze again.
He fought the urge.
"Are you not listening to me?" she continued, her tone sliding between impatience and curiosity. "Or do you simply lack the courage to speak to me?"
The boy swallowed hard. His throat was dry, his body trembling. After a few seconds, his voice emerged weak, barely audible.
"I… don't know."
He didn't know who he was. He didn't know where he came from. He didn't know why he was there.
The woman observed him more closely.
At first glance, the boy appeared to be about ten years old—small, fragile, frightened. For someone like her, his hesitation was no surprise. It was merely the natural timidity of a child confronted with overwhelming authority.
"You don't know?"
Her eyebrow arched slightly, but she didn't press the matter.
"Then tell me something else. How did you enter my castle? And where is your family?"
The boy swallowed again, unsure of what to say.
The castle of the Land of Shadows—her domain—was not a place children simply wandered into.
Not even her sister would dare send someone so young to spy on her. And Britain would never use a child for infiltration.
Moreover, he had no weapons. He showed no malicious intent. He was simply… lost and confused.
He had clearly been found by guards and brought to her without any resistance.
"I don't know," the boy repeated, this time with even more sincerity.
"I… don't have a family."
There was no way he could tell the truth—that he had simply appeared there, without memories, without origin, without explanation, from another world. Even if he tried, the woman would never believe him. And he had no proof to support such a claim.
No one would believe the absurd story of someone who had fallen from another world.
Please… don't let her hurt me, he thought desperately.
What were punishments like here? What did they do to intruders? Tear out fingernails? Beat them until they passed out? Chain them in some dark dungeon? The mere thought made his stomach churn.
He shuddered.
Then, to his astonishment, the woman smiled—not a gentle smile, but a curious one, sharp like someone who had found an intriguing puzzle. She raised her hand and gently rested it on his head.
"Are you afraid?" she asked.
The question wasn't cruel. She was merely stating a fact.
Because she could see his fear. In the boy's green eyes, in his trembling hands, in his stiff shoulders. No matter how much he tried to hide it, she saw it… as if she were reading his thoughts.
She tilted her head slightly as she studied him.
A blond boy with clear green eyes, wearing clothes far too strange for any villager. Fragile, small, vulnerable. Completely out of place in that castle.
"Lift your head, boy."
Her fingers, cold as steel yet soft as silk, brushed lightly against his cheek. It wasn't a gesture of affection—it was a command that would normally make seasoned soldiers tremble.
With no choice, he raised his face.
She was the Queen of the Land of Shadows. The absolute sovereign. The embodiment of power in that realm. There was no one above her. All obeyed. All feared her. And now, for the first time in a long while, she was interested in something—or rather, someone.
She bent down to his level, drawing close enough for him to feel her overwhelming presence pressing against his chest.
Their eyes met.
Her crimson eyes burned, deep as eternal bonfires, and the faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his heart in a strange way. Instead of panic, he felt a gentle, inexplicable calm—as if he were facing something dangerous… yet somehow familiar.
Why is she smiling?
He didn't know.
He didn't understand anything.
He couldn't even form the right question.
He simply stared at her, lost, hypnotized by the intensity of those red eyes.
And, without knowing why, he felt a strange peace spread through his chest—as if, for the first time since opening his eyes… he was safe.
Even though he had no idea who she was.
Or who he was.
---
"Now you have two options," the woman declared.
"Your first option is to leave the Land of Shadows," she continued, tilting her head slightly as she examined him. "Considering your young age, and the fact that your eyes showed no deceit when you spoke earlier… I will allow you to go in peace."
It was surprising to hear that. She was not someone accustomed to granting freedom so easily.
"And your second option…" She deliberately paused for a few seconds, then a smile bloomed on her lips. "Is to stay here. If you truly have no family, this kingdom can become your home. I will teach you my martial arts and sorcery, and then—"
She lifted her chin in an almost theatrical manner.
"—one day, when you are strong enough, we will fight to the death."
The declaration was absurd, yet she treated it as something entirely natural, as if she were inviting him to dinner. And, curiously, there was sincerity in her eyes. Sincerity… and anticipation.
If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have wasted time explaining anything; she would have simply ordered the guards to escort him out of the castle and ended the matter. But when she had touched his skin earlier, something within her had changed. She had sensed it clearly—the boy possessed talent. Great talent.
"So, you must make your choice now," she said, her tone firm. Though her voice remained calm, something in her eyes made it clear: she already believed she knew the answer.
So certain was she that she extended her hand without even waiting.
The boy stared at the outstretched hand. For a moment, he hesitated.
There was no denying it: if he chose to follow that woman, he would become strong. There was no doubt about that.
Under the protection of that ruler, he could grow up safely, learn martial arts, sorcery, and techniques few in the world could even imagine.
A carefree life. A comfortable life. A guaranteed path to power.
In that case…
There could only be one logical choice.
With her gaze weighing on his every movement, the boy took a deep breath and extended his hand, clasping hers.
The woman smiled—a soft, confident, victorious smile.
He returned a shy smile. Then, with a respectful bow, he said:
"I'm sorry… I choose the first option."
Her smile froze instantly, shattering like glass struck by a stone.
The boy nearly shrank back. He felt utterly powerless under her gaze, now devoid of expression.
Without a doubt, staying with her was the easiest, most logical, and safest path.
But how could he ignore that absurd part she had mentioned so casually? How could he overlook the fact that, once he grew up and mastered everything she taught him, they would have to fight to the death?
He swallowed hard just thinking about it.
Is she joking with me!? he thought desperately.
Her plan was practically to raise her own executioner. And he simply… couldn't see how he could ever defeat her. Not in a hundred years. Not in a thousand.
Faced with that, the boy reached the only logical conclusion: it was better to leave. To seek another path—one that didn't inevitably end with his corpse on the floor.
The woman stood stunned for several long seconds. Then, suddenly, she let out a low, unexpectedly amused laugh.
"Can you tell me why?" she asked, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow.
"I… don't believe I could defeat you," the boy replied with humble honesty. "So I ask that you respect my decision and allow me to leave."
"You are truly interesting," she murmured, and her smile softened—not in frustration, but in something almost resembling pride. "Very well. I am someone who respects the choices of others, and everyone in the Land of Shadows knows that. Therefore, I will respect your decision."
She straightened and gestured to one of the guards at her right.
"Take him to my bedroom!"
And without waiting for any reaction, she turned on her heel and left the hall with long, decisive strides.
The boy stood there, stunned.
"…Huh?"
When realization finally hit him, he shouted:
"Hey! That's not right! That's not what we agreed on!"
The woman stopped at the doorway, turned slowly, and smiled—a smug, provocative smile clearly meant to irritate him.
"As your future master, I will teach you your first lesson."
She raised a finger, as if about to share the most important universal truth in the world.
"Adults can change their minds very easily."
And she left.
(End of Chapter)