Chapter 1: Introduction
Rays of warm sunlight pierced through the intricate glass patterns of the grand window, painting multicolored lace across the writhed fabric of the silken canopy suspended above the four-poster. The chamber awoke from an eternal slumber, and plumes of dust billowed up like tendrils of ghostly remnant smoke from a smothered pyre.
Matt's vision swam with a blinding whirlwind of Chaos, his mind reeling with the pandemonium of what had just transpired.
The last conscious memory he held on to before opening his eyes in this unfamiliar bedchamber was of a modern-day university lecture hall brimming with students of all shapes and sizes. From a behemoth of a man wearing an enormous, drooping mustache, akin to Tom Selleck in his Magnum P.I.
detective outfit, to a petite red-haired woman leaning rigidly over her notepad, scribbling furiously to capture each word the professor spoke with her black, ballpoint pen.
All these fragmented memories evaporated away the moment Matt authenticated the luxurious fabrics beneath him, the one-of-a-kind scent of beeswax candles, an intermingling aroma of spices, incense, and mildew.
The profusion of gold threading embroidered on the velvet bed curtains was a clear testament to the opulence and obsession with grandeur parallel to the reign of the Sun King himself, Louis XIV.
Matt's head pounded like a war drum, consciousness teetering on the precipice of awareness. Sounds were muffled, distorted, as though he had been thrust into a deep sea abyss. As he summed up the resolve to sit, a blinding head rush obliterated his senses.
Raising a wobbling hand to rub his temple, a twist of raw flesh scraped against his skin, prompting an instinctive glance to discover the source.
A resplendent golden ring; an intricately crafted work of art, shimmering and engraved with James I's lion and thistle crest. The trinket that was previously snug around his pinky finger now concealed a deeply ingrained crimson groove on his ring finger. When had that exchange occurred?
It seems I was ensnared in something otherworldly, a riptide catapulting me through time into an alternate existence. Am I going mad? Was I tossed into an eccentric billionaire's virtual reality escape room contraption for a perverse attempt at amusement, a bewildering escape from the mundanity of the twenty-first century?
Desperately seeking answers, Matt's swirling thoughts alighted upon the possibility that the solution could lie on the other side of the slightly open door.
Tentatively, he swung his legs to the side of the bed, the silk sheets whispering against the cool stone floor.
He paused for a moment, gathering his strength, before attempting to stand: the dizzying combination of his befuddled state and the heavy, restrictive gowns that shrouded him in a breathless embrace.
His resolve unwavering, Matt shuffled towards the door, relying on the haven of its solidity, and leaned against it for support.
The slight gap allowed him to perceive the shadowy outlines of people deeper within the palace corridors beyond.
"Ahh, you're awake now, my lady?" inquired a feminine whisper with a gentle, curtsying figure, bringing Matt's attention toward the intruder in his room. The handmaiden's hesitant smile emitted both relief and apprehension as she wrung her hands in nervous anticipation.
Though Matt, still plagued by befuddlement, could infer that she was a loyal servant, welcoming the new queen after a long period of mourning for the late King Henry.
He struggled hastily, endeavoring to imitate Queen Anna's voice, hoping that he had reheard enough of the queen's conversations with the handmaiden to produce a convincing, though unpolished, imitation.
"Indeed, my loyal servant, I'm grateful for your unwavering support. How long have I been incapacitated?"
She hesitated, wavering between genuine confusion and a sense of familiarity, considering Matt's voice and demeanor contrasted starkly with the memories she held of Queen Anna. "Five days, my queen.
You've been confined to your chambers for five days now, since King Henry's unexpected departure." The handmaiden swallowed hard, her voice wavering. "I understand this must be an arduous time of transition."
The gears in Matt's mind started grinding and whirring, frantically working to process this new information and fit the pieces together. If he was truly transported back in time into the body of the late Queen Anna, then it meant the looming figure of King Henry must have recently passed away.
"Your dedication to your role has never been in question, my dear handmaiden," Matt reassured her with as much regality and grace as he could possibly muster under the circumstances. "I trust that you will continue to sustain me throughout this challenging time. I shall endeavor to grasp my place as your new queen, to lead and protect this kingdom as best I can, while coming to terms with my bewildering existence."
The handmaiden dipped into a respectful curtsy before offering a gentle nod.
"Of course, Your Majesty. I am humbled by your faith in me."
Her voice exuded a hint of warmth as she continued, "Allow me to introduce myself properly, Your Grace. I am Lady Rose, handmaiden to the late Queen Anna, now at your service." Her crystalline eyes brimmed with curiosity, glancing Matt up and down, from his ashen face to the gilded embroidery on his opulent sleeves.
Matt deliberated his next move, an attempt at establishing a connection with Lady Rose.
Hoping to establish common ground, he inquired, "Lady Rose, I'm curious: can you tell me about the late Queen Anna? I'm eager to comprehend her life and how she navigated her duties as a monarch during her reign."
Lady Rose's lingering gaze shifted, scrutinizing Matt through a new perspective, before taking a seat near him on an ornate bench. With an air of nostalgia, she began painting a vivid picture of Anna, her virtues, and inadequacies, "Queen Anna was a woman of surprisingly few words.
She was insightful and taciturn, preferring silent observation over repetitive pleasantries. Her greatest fear was that challenging political decisions would leave a trail of blood on her hands, effectively tarnishing her soul.
"She was a queen whose heart ached incessantly for the troubled souls within her kingdom. When villagers suffered from famine, she would sacrifice her own meals, distributing her fine foodstuffs to the needy.
"When a child disappeared in a nearby village, she would spend sleepless nights on her knees, praying for the safe return of the innocent soul.
She once singlehandedly rebuilt the infirmary in the palace to house the ailing and afflicted with her own two hands. Her tenderness and love for her people were immeasurable."
A twinge of sadness tugged at Matt's heartstrings as he channeled Anna's unwavering dedication to her subjects.
"To honor her memory, I will endeavor to continue her legacy," Matt pledged, his voice a solemn whisper.
Lady Rose's eyes glistened with gratitude, a slight nod of her head appearing as the faintest gesture of respect and pride for her new queen.
The resounding thud of footsteps marching in unison infiltrated the chamber as a guard outside the door announced, "The Royal Council arrives, Your Majesty."
Matt steeled himself upon recalling the handmaiden's tales of Anna's political prowess, plentiful intellect, and unwavering compassion.
He took a deep breath, preparing to emulate those very qualities while still in the process of navigating this bewildering time continuum.
The door swung open; a phalanx of middle-aged men, clad in ornate robes with fur collars and adorned with circlets of silver, strode into the chamber. Their faces portrayed a spectrum of emotions—worry masked by stern expressions, and eyes gleaming with curiosity, as they surveyed their new sovereign.
Matt held his ground, steadfast and poised, burying his clamoring nerves with every ounce of strength he could muster.
The council chairman, Lord Percival, stepped forward, his styled silver wig and impossibly long goatee punctuating the auspicious occasion.
He arched one brow, scrutinizing Matt with heightened intensity, before slipping into a grateful half-bow as he bellowed, "Your Majesty, our condolences for your recent loss.
As the newly appointed ruler following the late King Henry, your guidance will illuminate the darkness for our beleaguered souls."
Lord Percival's oratory was a well-versed melody that swayed the council members into bending one knee before the supposedly anointed queen.
A fresh surge of panic constricted Matt's heart. It was paramount he maintained his façade as Queen Anna while grappling with the knowledge that he was but an interloper, probing this chasm of an unfamiliar past.
How could he unravel the myriad mysteries that had long eluded Queen Anna and gain the respect of her steadfast subjects?
Doubt and anxiety gnawed at the edges of his confidence but, as the sole occupant of this regal vessel, he couldn't afford to waver.
"I appreciate the kind words, Lord Percival. Your loyalty to the Crown and my late husband is undeniable," Matt said, attempting to emulate Anna's dignified tone.
He continued, "Although we unexpectedly find ourselves in these tumultuous times, I am steadfast in my determination to lead the people of this great land.
I invite each of you to openly converse with me on matters of trade, diplomacy, and our kingdom's growth.
"Your wisdom will be essential as I embark on this daunting journey, and I long to create an environment built on mutual trust and transparency."
Matt could see the surprise contorting their features as his words sunk in. Queen Anna was never particularly receptive to their suggestions and council, with most of her attention going towards the suffering subjects outside of the palace.
Yet, here he was, an outsider, ready to forge ahead differently.