Shocked by the very exclamation that left my lips, I put my two hands over my mouth, and to my wonder, saw my blonde reflection do the same.

The heavy, long doors of the room were thrown open, and a petite brunette girl in her twenties stood at the threshold, holding a tray with a steaming towel and a bowl of water. As soon as she saw me, the tray escaped her hands, and the glass bowl shattered into pieces. I winced. 

"M-m-my-" Seeming quite unaware of the glass pieces, she stood on the spot, and then quite unexpectedly, bursting into tears, shouted, "Physician! Physician! Oh my lord, the heavens have not abandoned Irennia. Thank the gods. Mercy, mercy," she muttered.

Amidst my confusion and dazed state, she deftly jumped over the glass pieces, came to my bed side, and still staring at me like I was an unbelievable phantom, asked in a trembling voice, "Are you all right, my lady? I thank the heavens, I really do."

"My...what?"

Before I could take in the situation, a sixty-odd looking man quickly entered the room, and took my pulse with his two fingers. Then, he looked deep into my eyes, as if checking my pupils, and nodded with a smile at the young woman.

"She seems to have recovered, although there is need to watch over her for the next few months. Congratulations on your recovery, my lady."

I was definitely dreaming. Or hallucinating. The woman's attire was strange. A plain brown dress made of some coarse material, and strange looking shoes and stockings, with her brown hair tied into a tight low bun. The man, too, was in some kind of a loose white robe. It was as if I had suddenly become part of a period play.

All this was happening with too much clarity for me to dismiss it as some sort of a dream. Was I not awake from my bullet wound yet?

The man who'd been called the 'physician' beamed widely, flushes coming to his cheeks. "His Majesty would be so pleased. Hurry, let him know. I will get another maid to clear the mess."

"Pleased-" The woman hesitated, and then nodded. "Of course."

Numb and unable to believe the unfamiliar, strange things that were happening, I lay down on the bed again, closing my eyes. At least I hadn't been held captive by the culprit or something. This seemed an acceptable strange situation. I'd have a good nap and all would be back to normal.

I'd wake up in a hospital bed. Lieutenant Tanner would deadpan, "Welcome back to the world of the living, Edwards", Sergeant Jack might crack a joke like, "Eh, Alice. How did getting shot feel like?", and Captain Ivan might shed a tear of relief or two before nagging me on how I shouldn't have let my colleagues out of sight.

"Yes, please do take some rest, my lady." The man's voice disturbed my attempt to imagine the normal. "I will take my leave."

The sound of footsteps, the sound of a broom clearing the mess of glass pieces came, and then the sound of door shutting, and silence. Finally, some peace. Or something resembling it. The sound of the door came again, and footsteps stopped beside my bed.

I opened my eyes.

By my bedside stood a man perhaps in his mid-twenties. He was tall and slim, well-built, dressed in a white well-pressed shirt with gold buttons, long dark blue pants, and an overall rich, deep blue double-breasted coat buttoned over his shirt. With sun-kissed olive coloured skin, bluish, clear grey eyes and coal black hair swept back, he was a startlingly handsome man.

When he saw me open my eyes, he let out a small, quiet sigh, and although for a slight second, I knew it was an expression of relief that flashed past his face.

The young brunette woman who'd scurried into the room, held her skirts and curtsied low toward the man, her face, previously one of open joy and relief, now tense and hard. "Your Majesty."

The man nodded curtly.

Your...what? My lady, followed by Your Majesty.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

The man's eyebrow twitched. "Your life is yours and your choice to end it, no one stops you- in your own kingdom. Now that you are in my kingdom, your life is not yours, Lady Helena," he said coldly, and turned around to leave.

I coughed, and spoke. "Where's the culprit?" The rest of the questions I wanted to ask stopped in my throat, as I raised myself from the bed to my feet, shocked by the unfamiliar, smooth voice that came from my mouth.

At that, the man turned. His grey eyes flashed in something like anger, and he closed the distance between us in two big strides, his jaw clenched. "Culprit?"

I had many more questions to ask. For instance- Who are you? What are you people, dressed in these period play clothes? Stage actors? Where am I? And why do I look different? Where's my phone, and my wallet?

But before I could, the marble floor under my feet seemed to sway, and without warning, my body fell forward weakly, into the arms of the man, before I lost consciousness.