I woke up as a King in a Fantasy World

Jareth stepped into the spacious bathroom, and his breath nearly caught in his throat as he took in the lavish interior. The sheer grandeur of it was beyond anything he had ever seen before. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, gilded accents shimmering under the soft glow of enchanted crystal lamps. The air was lightly scented with something fresh and soothing—perhaps a blend of herbs meant for relaxation.

His eyes wandered to the most astonishing feature of all—a personal hot spring situated right in the middle of the bathing area. Steam rose gently from the pristine water, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. 

A hot spring? In the king's private bathroom? How awesome!

He had expected a grand bathtub, but this was on a whole other level.

Shaking off his amazement, he decided to enjoy the rare luxury. He stepped into the warm water, letting out a sigh as the soothing heat eased the tension in his muscles. This really is another world. The bath was unlike anything he had ever experienced—utter relaxation in absolute opulence.

After taking his time to freshen up, Jareth changed into the king's everyday attire. He slipped into a finely woven tunic, paired with well-fitted breeches secured with an elegant leather belt. Soft leather shoes took the place of his thin indoor slippers. Lastly, he fastened a cloak over his shoulders, the fabric smooth and rich to the touch.

However, one item gave him pause—the crown. A heavy, ornate piece of gold and jewels that symbolized his royal status. He picked it up and stared at it for a moment, already feeling tired at the thought of having to wear it all the time. 

"Do I really have to put this on every day? What a hassle." he grumbled.

But there was no helping it—it was part of the role he now had to play. With a resigned sigh, he placed the crown on his head, feeling its weight settle in.

Once he was fully dressed, he stepped out of the room, Roderic following closely behind. As expected, they were immediately flanked by two soldiers, who fell into step behind them. Unlike Roderic, these men wore heavy silver armor, though their designs were noticeably different. While Roderic's armor exuded a commanding presence, these soldiers' armor had a slightly less imposing design. It was still grand, but the distinction was clear—Roderic's set was meant for a higher-ranking warrior.

Don't they feel hot in those? Jareth wondered as he glanced at them. The armor looked stifling, yet they moved with precision, showing no signs of discomfort.

As they walked through the palace corridors, Jareth took the opportunity to observe his surroundings more carefully. The hallways were just as extravagant as the rest of the palace. The walls were adorned with masterfully painted portraits and grand tapestries, each depicting scenes of battles, coronations, or significant historical events. Intricate golden sconces lined the halls, holding enchanted crystal lamps that bathed everything in a warm glow. Even the floor beneath his feet was polished to perfection, reflecting the light like a flawless mirror.

This place is ridiculously extravagant, he thought, running a hand along the smooth stone wall. It's like walking through a museum.

Jareth continued down the corridor, his gaze landed on a series of grand portraits lining the walls. Each was framed in gold, their subjects painted with incredible detail and realism. The figures depicted in the paintings were regal, their postures upright and dignified, clad in fine robes or battle armor that signified their status. Some held swords, others were accompanied by symbols of power—crowns, scrolls, or magical artifacts.

His eyes narrowed as he studied their faces more closely. Though their features varied, one detail stood out to him immediately—their eyes. That same piercing emerald-green color, identical to his own, stared back at him from painting after painting. These must be the king's ancestors, he realized at once.

The resemblance was undeniable. Some had softer expressions, others bore the hardened looks of warriors, but they all shared that striking gaze. 

-

As they walked through a corridor lined with large open windows, Jareth's attention was immediately drawn to the breathtaking view outside. Instinctively, he moved closer, his eyes widening in quiet amazement.

Beyond the castle walls stretched a vast and beautifully maintained garden, its vibrant greenery standing out against the polished stone pathways that wound through it. Flowers of various colors bloomed in neatly arranged sections, while trimmed hedges and ornamental trees added to the grandeur. In the center of the garden, a marble fountain glistened under the morning sun, water cascading down in an elegant display.

Further beyond the garden, a fortified wall marked the boundary of the castle grounds, its sturdy stone structure standing tall and imposing. And past that, a dense forest spread across the land, its canopy forming a sea of deep green. The sight of it made Jareth pause.

 A forest…? That means this place isn't just isolated—it's heavily protected.

But what truly caught his attention was the city beyond. From his vantage point, he could see rooftops of elegant mansions and smaller houses alike, stretching far into the distance. Streets wove through the city like veins, connecting various districts.

It was then that he realized—this castle was built atop a mountain. Its elevated position allowed for a commanding view of everything below. From here, the entire capital lay beneath him, a testament to the kingdom's power and strategic foresight.

Jareth exhaled softly, a quiet sense of awe settling within him.

However, what truly made Jareth come to an abrupt halt was something far more astonishing. 

As he gazed upward, his eyes caught sight of a faint yet unmistakable glow stretching across the sky. It shimmered with a barely perceptible translucence, like a veil of light draped over the entire castle and its surroundings.

His breath hitched. Is that… a barrier?

The more he focused, the clearer it became. The glow wasn't just a trick of the light—it was something tangible, something deliberate. The way it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, suggested it was infused with energy. Magic, perhaps?

His mind raced with questions. 

What exactly is this protecting against? An enemy? A natural disaster? Or is this just a precautionary measure? 

The fact that it covered the sky meant it wasn't a small-scale enchantment but a grand and powerful spell cast over the entire area.

For a moment, he simply stood there, captivated. This world, which he had suspected to be different from his own, was continuously proving just how vast and mysterious it truly was.

Magic barriers, enchanted castles… Just what kind of place have I ended up in?

"Your Majesty?" Roderic's deep voice called out, his tone laced with confusion as he noticed Jareth had suddenly stopped walking.

Jareth blinked, realizing he had been staring at the strange shimmering barrier for too long. A faint sense of embarrassment crept up on him, but he quickly masked it, maintaining a composed and aloof demeanor.

"It's been a long time since I could simply admire the scenery at my leisure," he said smoothly, his tone calm and composed. "We're not in a hurry for breakfast anyway."

Roderic studied him for a moment before nodding in understanding. "That's true. Your Majesty has always been dedicated to the kingdom. You rarely take moments for yourself," he replied. A rare trace of approval crossed his face. "Then let's walk slowly, so you can take in the view."

Jareth silently let out a breath of relief. It seemed his excuse had been accepted without much suspicion.

As they continued down the corridor, he took full advantage of the opportunity, greedily absorbing every detail of his surroundings. The palace was truly something out of a fantasy—ornate, grand, and brimming with an elegance he had never seen before.

As they turned the corner of the grand hallway, Jareth and his small entourage unexpectedly crossed paths with a man who exuded an air of refined elegance. The man had a warm, amicable demeanor, his gentle features framed by long black hair neatly tied behind his back. He was dressed in an immaculate all-white outfit, which gave him an almost ethereal appearance—pristine and composed, like a scholar of the highest order.

Trailing behind him were two male attendants, each carrying an armful of scrolls, further emphasizing his scholarly nature. As soon as he spotted them, his deep, intelligent eyes lit up, and he approached without hesitation.

With practiced grace, he lowered his head in a respectful bow before greeting Jareth. His voice was smooth and measured, carrying a sense of both politeness and confidence.

"Your Majesty."

After acknowledging Jareth, he turned toward Roderic and extended the same courtesy. However, Jareth immediately noticed a difference in Roderic's demeanor. The normally steadfast knight, who never faltered in the face of anyone, suddenly appeared unnaturally stiff. Though he responded with the same level of respect, there was a subtle tension in his posture that did not go unnoticed.

"Sir Atticus," Roderic greeted formally, his voice steady but lacking its usual ease.

Jareth's gaze sharpened. So, this man is someone important.

Atticus regarded him with keen interest before offering a gentle smile. "Your Majesty, are you on your way to court?" he inquired in a casual yet knowing manner.

Before Jareth could answer, Atticus shifted his attention to Roderic, his tone becoming slightly more pointed. "And why are you here as well, Sir Roderic? Shouldn't your shift be over by now? Where is Sir Caelum?"

Jareth caught onto the name immediately. 

Caelum? Another knight? It seems they take turns guarding the king.

Roderic, ever composed, responded smoothly but with a hint of caution. "I personally requested to accompany His Majesty today. We are not heading to court—His Majesty has been advised by the physician to rest for a few days." His tone was subtle, but Jareth could sense he was deliberately keeping the explanation concise.

At this, Atticus turned back to Jareth, his brows knitting together slightly in concern. "Is Your Majesty feeling unwell?"

Jareth met his gaze, careful not to reveal too much. "It's nothing serious, just fatigue," he answered perfunctorily.

Even as he responded, he continued to observe the man before him. There was something about Atticus—his graceful bearing, his polite yet inquisitive demeanor—that put Jareth on guard. He appeared amicable, almost too pleasant, but Roderic's stiffened posture suggested otherwise.

This man must be someone to be wary of.