Chapter 4: Bit of a Crisis

Oh, he wasn't simply a "traitor" though. The original was a Traitor, capitalization and all.

Mattheus didn't understand why but the original was a traitor to the royal family and government. As he was of noble blood, it meant that the original Mattheus Crown betrayed his family and the citizens.

Because he sure as hell wasn't a revolutionary.

Ignoring everything but the results of his actions…

Mattheus felt a bit nauseous as he looked down at the hands that were now his. They were pale and oddly beautiful looking for a man's hand, without any scars or even callouses. Considering the information given, just how much blood was on these hands?

The consequences of his actions.

Information security existed for a reason. State secrets found out by other foreign powers when people in power were still prone to covet more…

Really, it was just Theo's luck to transmigrate into a traitor to his own country.

"I think I'm going to—"

"Master Mattheus?" a male voice called unsurely.

He swung his head at the entryway to his dressing room, seeing a servant dressed kind of like what one would expect of a butler, though he was probably too young to actually be the butler.

Mattheus must have looked awful because the manservant looked vaguely alarmed and inquired if he was alright.

"Nothing that can be helped," Mattheus half-murmured before brushing the topic away (if only he could bleach his soul of the recent realization). "What is it?"

Immediately, he realized he sounded a bit short due to his inner turmoil of taking over a traitor's life and identity. He tried to force himself to moderate his tone. No need to take it out on others just because he was having a bit of a Crisis.

The brunet man looked like he wanted to argue before he seemed to catch himself. Instead, the manservant stated that a Lord Snowe came by at the news Mattheus was found and would be taking dinner at the manor.

Mattheus blinked.

"Lord Snowe was also part of the group that went hunting in Glashaw Woods before the season truly started. Lord Snowe and Lord Edgar have been friends since they were children, and he was the one who alerted us over the fact you never came back that evening," the probable-valet informed before Mattheus could think to ask.

Oh.

"Can you send my apologies to Lord Snowe? That I appreciate his consideration but I'm unfortunately not feeling well enough to receive guests."

"Yes, of course," the manservant immediately bowed, taking it as an order. "Would you like to take your midday meal in your rooms, Master Mattheus?"

"Uh—Yes, sure. Afterward, I would like to be left alone so I can rest."

…

Mattheus was unsurprised he didn't actually get any resting done before Edgar checked up on him a few hours later. There were just too many things on his mind to be able to fall asleep. And not even the fact his blood pressure was still low from the anemia helped knock him out.

The viscount found his younger brother sitting at an armchair moved to face the balcony, the light of the rising moons casting stark shadows around his monochromatic form.

Of course, Mattheus had studied the stranger's face (that was now his) enough to know that, even in such a setting, he would look frail and innocent rather than ominous or dangerous. Earl Crown was not exactly bad looking, so it was inevitable his children would be rather comely—Countess Crown was known as the most beautiful woman of her generation, after all, and was still a rather famous beauty in the country.

"Mattheus? I thought you would be resting."

The younger Crown straightened up slightly and turned more fully to look at Edgar, only to flinch minutely in surprise to see the nobleman wasn't alone.

It was the way the other man looked more than the fact there was an extra, honestly. Mattheus had been plotting on how to go around the surveillance of being both an aristocrat and "injured" in order to find Brunilda, as he couldn't exactly expect his friend to find him despite her competence (unless she was part of the aristocracy herself), so already half-expected Edgar to always have a shadow. It was just expected for important people to have others around them.

In the gloom that was quickly removed as Edgar turned on some of the lamps, the stranger looked rather like a ghost with his extremely pale platinum hair and general lack of warmth in his facial features. His eyes were like ice chips and Mattheus wasn't sure the comparison was because of the cold-blue color or just the rather frigid gaze he had been graced with. Maybe it was both.

Mattheus was going to take a rough stab in the dark and guess this might be "Lord Snowe" and how ironically fitting a name it was if he was right.

Edgar seemed to notice where Mattheus's gaze was focused on and introduced, rightfully assuming Mattheus had no idea who the blond was. "Mattheus, this is Marquess Illarion Snowe, a friend of mine since childhood. Ill was the one that made me realize you never came back from the hunt."

"Ah. Thank you, Lord Snowe," Mattheus replied awkwardly.

Cold-blue eyes continued to stare at Mattheus for another moment, silent, before the Marquess eventually responded. "No need for thanks."

Mattheus blinked before taking it as his fortune for the Marquess being a more reticent man. His older brother was already a handful enough with his concerned questions. He was aware he could only stretch the amnesia so far before people started doubting and thought he was mentally ill or possessed by the devil.

…

The nineteen-year-old self-proclaimed amnesiac had had awkward dinners before with his family back in his original world. But he would admit this meal ranked up there when it came to uncomfortable social situations for him.

Ignoring the discomfort though, Mattheus did learn from observing that Edgar Crown and Illarion Snowe really were best friends with how often the latter dropping by was implied. It was a bit odd only because these were aristocrats, so it made him wonder if their houses were allies, of the same faction, or if the Crowns were vassals to the Marquess.

But, ignoring looking at things deeply, from all appearances they appeared to be total bros. Edgar was obviously more comfortable with "Ill" than his own younger brother.

Then again, Mattheus hated "himself" right now too. So he would not be surprised if such a nice guy like Edgar Crown would be estranged from a secretly traitorous genius brother.

"Would sending him away when your parents will be coming to the Capital soon be such a good idea?" the deep voice of Illarion Snowe asked doubtfully.

"Ma—Mattheus has amnesia and his Color looks very similar to gray, Ill! He needs to recuperate—"

The stuttering of his new name caught his attention, but he only wondered for a moment why Edgar did so when first finding him and another handful of times before he was distracted by the actual content of his older brother's words.

"What," Mattheus cut in, the word flat because of his alarm.

It was obvious what Edgar wanted to do. Sending his injured younger brother back to the earldom to get heal up—possibly hiding a potential "embarrassment" to their House—made sense.

Unfortunately, that would mean leaving the Capital. Where Brunilda was located somewhere within.

Yeah. Not happening.

Edgar looked embarrassed. His tone gentled compared to how he had been arguing with Illarion Snowe. "Mother will want to see you immediately to think up a plan to help you with your memory loss with father. And you have a head wound. The family doctor is back at the estate to take care of you."

"I'm fine."

The older Crown pinched the bridge of his nose. "Brother, your skull was basically all but cracked open—"

"I'm fine," he repeated before continuing, "It's healed up. I'm not lying!"

At Edgar's doubtful look, Mattheus started unwinding the bandage he had re-wrapped around his head. Originally, he planned to fake the injury and act surprised if anyone else inspected, only to find it gone. Considering this immediate crisis of possibly being shipped out of the Capital, where he needed to stay, though…

A bit of sacrificing a card he was holding close at hand was necessary. It was a card that would have been hard to keep hidden without more questions anyway, what with the x-ray machine that saw aura colors.

"Mattheus!" Edgar started in alarm as his younger brother removed his bandages. "Don't do tha—"

Mattheus ruffled his hair that no doubt dried with a bandage imprint. He turned away, so the back of his head faced Edgar. "Look, see? Healed."

"How is this possible?" Edgar murmured in shock.

The teenager turned back around to see Illarion Snowe frowning and Edgar looking a bit startled. There was an awkward silence as Mattheus tried to figure out how much to reveal.

"I don't think your brother should leave the Capital, Edgar." Illarion Snowe broke the silence. He was still frowning slightly. "Earl Crown is coming any day now and Baron Endlewood is here. The experts would be more accessible in the Capital than back at your estate."

"You think it's the change of his Color?" Edgar seemed to read into his friend's words and understand what the Marquess did not say.

Illarion Snowe turned to face Mattheus and asked, "How did you find yourself healed? Did you see or feel anything odd?"

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