Alexander shot his eyes open and felt a renewed energy flow in his veins. Strange, he thought. He felt as if he could now kill a whole army single handedly. He let his gaze sweep across the room but there was no one else present. He would usually find a maid tending to him or a man whom he heard being called Royal Physician mixing some stuffs he didn’t know. The hallway was also silent creating an ominous feeling.

And now that Alexander was alone, he decided to take a closer look to what was his room now. He slid his feet into the sandals and he felt light as he stood up. He had probably lost some weight. But that did not deter him for now. All he wanted was try to recollect some of his memories. His head was a mess right now and he knew it had something to do with the poison. The last thing he could remember was a woman running to where he was. But he couldn’t remember her face. And as much as he tried to do so, his head would throb in pain and he hated it.

Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, he let his gaze sweep across the room before it landed on a portrait. The portrait was placed near the night stand and he could make his face out of it. Apart from him, there were two other people drawn on the portrait. Curiosity got the better of him and he found his legs taking him forward towards where the portrait was placed.

He held the portrait and let his gaze linger on those two other people apart from him. They were smiling at him and he guessed that these were his parents. His gaze lingered on his father and some memories flooded his mind. Those were the ones when he was a child. He remembered his mother too but for some strange reason, her face was blurry in his memories. So he just presumed that the woman on the photo was his mother.

He placed the portrait back on the nightstand before his gaze settled on the drawer which was slightly open. A golden substance was shining inside which made him curious. His hands pulled the drawer delicately revealing something that he least expected to be in his room. A golden flute.

He took it and for some odd reason, a feeling that he couldn’t quite explain filled and tightened his heart. The reason for that, he didn’t know. Brushing the odd feeling aside, he studied the flute in his hand and wondered if it was his. He never liked these petty things since he was a child. How comes he kept one?

He looked at the flute one more time before placing it back at the drawer. Maybe he would ask Lord Richard or his mother about it. And thinking about his mother, he had not seen her yet. Maybe she is in the funeral, he thought. Right! The funeral! That man named Lord Richard had told him that they would suffer a great humiliation if the crown prince fails to appear on such an occasion. Maybe I should go, he thought. He felt energetic after all.

He walked past the bed making for the door when he halted on his tracks. He took a few steps back before his gaze landed on the full length mirror. The person staring back at him looked awful. In fact awful was an understatement. He didn’t need costume to act a zombie movie right now. In fact, he would fit the role of the antagonist, naturally. His face was enough to scare the heart out of anyone. His eyes were sunken and languid and his usual smooth face was wrinkled making him to look like a person who was aging with every passing second.

Alexander sunk on the side of his mattress. Maybe it was not a good idea to go out yet. But would he just sit and wait as his Kingdom’s reputation got destroyed. He was the crown prince after all and it was his duty to be present during his father’s burial. And what of the coronation ceremony? What would they say about his whereabouts? He had to do something. But what? That made him to calm. A plan was what he needed.

’Only if I can disguise myself,’ he thought. But what happened next almost made him to jump out of his body. He looked at his attire in disbelief.

"How is this even possible?" He asked. His hands moved to his hair and he almost jumped again. That texture was not of his hair. His fingers moved to his lips and his face felt different. What the hell had happened. His gaze shifted to the mirror and he quickly made his way there to almost jump back at the sight that welcomed him. He almost stumbled on the table that stood near the mirror.

"Impossible!" He whispered that to himself as he made his way to the mirror again. This time, he did not flinch or react but he was curious.

"Lord Richard? What are you doing in the mirror?" He asked but got no reply. Instead, the figure’s lips the same as his the whole time he was talking. And as if to confirm what he was seeing was real, Alexander lifted his hand while watching Lord Richard in the mirror. The Lord Richard in the mirror repeated his actions making Alexander’s eyes to widen in surprise. He made a few funny gestures including slapping himself and the figure repeated them all.

"Maybe it’s not a dream," he said, unsure of his own words. But what had he done to change form? Right. He had thought of disguising himself as Lord Richard before a strange sensation flowed over his body and he turned into this, including the clothes. What if I use that to disguise myself as a healthy Alexander? He thought. Was it even possible? Well, there was only one way to try it out. His gaze shifted to the portrait that he had held earlier and an evil smile formed on his face.