When I woke up, my head felt like a rock, and my throat a dry fire. The smell of pine wood and perfumes hit my nose, as I tried to stand up. My clothes chaffed and scratched at my skin, sweat pooling on the floor where I once lay. Every step, a stumble, the clinking of empty bottles shooting across the cold floor like hockey pucks. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark void I inhabited, but I knew that something wasn't right. 

I held my aching skull in my hands, trying to formulate something that could be considered a coherent thought. Had I truly drunk so much? I tried to remember. Last night had been an anniversary spent alone, and a lot of trying to forget what I’d lost. It was warm when I walked home, and then there was a bright light to my side before… I woke up here.

My eyes began to adjust, and I got a better view of the room. It was big, literally the size of my entire flat. There were bottles all over the floor, books lining the walls, and on the far end of the room was a large double door. A bit of light cracked through its ornate base, and my ears picked up some chatter. 

“—Should we check on him? It’s been a full day sir.” Said a little shrill voice.

”—Not alone, I’ll fetch a guard, so wait here.” Said a more mature raspy tone.

I walked to the door fumbling around to find a knob, if someone was there maybe they’d know where I am. 

The door creaked open, it was heavy, and the waves of light burnt my eyes.

”My lord! You’re awake oh thank D’or, mister Fabius just-” I couldn’t quite make out the face of the mousy voice, but she seemed to be a woman. She waved her hands around saying things I couldn’t quite make out. I stumbled towards her and squinted my eyes to get a better look at her, propping my body on the door.

I thought she was dressed oddly, a black dress covered with white frills… a maid? Who would have the money for an old-timey maid in this economy? The little maid kept fluttering about looking back and forth.

I looked around as well, a massive hallway, lined with pots and ornate wall decorations, paintings and long velvet curtains covering massive windows, as the light shimmered through them, with not a fleck of dust in the air. It was a mansion dressed to the nines, like something you’d see in a period drama. I couldn’t quite understand what I was seeing. Nothing like this existed in my city… so how did I end up here? 

“Um… Milord?” The maid squeaked as she tugged on my shirt trying to get my attention. I was wearing something loose and formal, like a tuxedo almost, but covered in stains, a far cry from the hoodie and sweatpants I had on when I went drinking last night. 

 “Milord?” she said again.

Was this a prank of some kind? Who would even have the money to do this to a nobody like me? 

“Milord! Milord Armentaria!” She squeaked out once more, but this time something stood out. Armentaria, the name sounded familiar, but…

My skull began to split with pain. I held it as if trying to hold it together, the maid panicked as I stumbled and groaned in pain. She began to scream out for help, and then as I fell forward, she seemed to be reaching out to catch me, but too late. I crash to the floor and black out once more.

I came to a while later, splayed out in a large king size bed, with veils of fine satin all about, and silk sheets with warm linen blankets. It was a type of finery I was not used to, and that kept me in a bit of a stupor as my headache began to subside. As I looked at the ceiling of the bed frame, I contemplated looking around again, taking in my surroundings, as if that would change the fact I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. Taking the plunge, and tilting my head to the right, I saw what I dreaded most, more luxurious furniture, and resplendent architecture. It wasn’t a dream, and I was in some kind of palace, or at least a very fancy house.

The doors at the other end of the bedroom slammed open, and I sat up at the sudden noise. A tall woman entered the room, she was dressed exquisitely, the flowing forms of the blue dress complimenting her form as if they were a part of her very body, a perfect harmony of skin and fabric. Despite the slammed door, she walked with a pristine elegance and stared at me with piercing blue eyes that contrasted her dark skin. Her hair partially covered her left eye and she wore yellow ribbons in her hair, with a shimmering red brooch around her neck.

“Oh you’re awake.” She said as she stood by the bedside.

“H-hello miss.” I said nervously, to the very pretty lady.

“Miss? Is that where we are now?” She said with an overt look of disgust on her face. "Did you at fun last night?”

“I wouldn’t say so.” I said honestly

“I would hope not.”  She responded.

Silence reigned between the two of us as I broke eye contact first and stared at my hands. I was still in the clothes from earlier, and I didn’t feel like asking obvious questions. It felt like if I did, this woman would give me a death glare that earned its name. 

She sighed and knelt down to the bed.

“We called for the doctor, he will be here soon, I’ll call Friedrich and hopefully we can at least get out these disgusting clothes, before I tear them off and burn them myself.” I looked down at her face, she was smirking, but I didn’t quite know how to respond, and so I simply stared as she gradually lost her smile.

“Oh right.” She said as she stood up. “I’ll be having Lord Troix and Mélun over for the children’s party next week, please be on your best behavior.” 

I nodded along, as if I knew those names. What was I to say? That I’m confused? That I didn’t know who she was or who Lord Troix and Mélun were? The woman soon left the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Drawing the covers off of me as I stood and walked over to a mirror I had spotted while earlier.

As I stood there in front of the looking glass, it seemed clear what I had already suspected. Between the fancy house, the maids, the talk of lords and parties, an image started to build in my head of where I was, and I saw a face staring back at me, one that was not my own. It was a horror I couldn’t quite describe, mostly because I wasn’t horrified. It felt familiar in a way my mind was screaming it shouldn’t, my face, unshaven, with bags under my eyes, sharp cheekbones,and a mess of red hair. The maid said it before, Armentaria and I remembered it clearly.

I am Marquess Hugo de Armentaria, and I am in a novel.