Chapter 1: Expelled
"Ah... what a drag... I hate this..."
A pair of half-sleepy eyes stared at the brown oak door that had just shut with a soft click. The air still carried her presence—a plush scent of citrus that wrapped around him like silk. Sweet and intoxicating, yet sharp enough to cut through his drowsiness.
The owner of those lazy eyes slowly rose from his king-sized bed, white sheets twisted around his limbs like chains. His room stretched wide enough to swallow most people's entire homes whole.
At the center sat his delicately carved bed, white wood flowing like frozen water caught mid-stream. Every piece of furniture whispered of divine taste—even the floor beneath his feet seemed to pulse with artistic rhythm. The ceiling above curved in interwoven waves, like white sand sculpted by invisible winds.
To his right, a coffee table and chair waited in perfect arrangement. Behind them stretched a wall of books—stories and knowledge gathered from distant countries, their spines displaying languages he could read like old friends.
He dragged his feet as if his body weighed more than mountains. It didn't—he was a lithe young man who looked like he'd forgotten to eat for weeks. He was simply too lazy to walk like normal people did.
If he had his way, he'd never leave this sanctuary. The maids brought meals when hunger called. Books waited when boredom struck. Sleep embraced him when exhaustion won. Why venture beyond these walls when everything he needed lived within arm's reach?
And yet, here he was, moving against every instinct that screamed for stillness.
'Ah... dear lord.'
He opened the door and stepped into a passageway lined with glittering lights. Ancient white wood formed the walls—timber that had aged for decades before craftsmen deemed it worthy of use.
Along the bright hallway, young ladies in black and white gowns passed like ghosts. They bowed their heads in practiced courtesy, then quickly covered their noses with delicate hands. They tried to hide their disgust, but their movements spoke louder than words.