Chapter 2

Two

Three glassesof wine and one hell of an explanation later, I felt more confused, but I was mellow about my confusion. Rather like a baby kitten that had just been adopted. No idea where I was or how I’d gotten there, but look, snacks!

My brain on wine was not to be trusted.

I sat in an oversized chair in front of the fireplace, opposite Theon, and felt like I was having one of those out-of-body experiences. Like, serious disassociation. We’re talking pro level here—I could take the gold easily right now.

I was most definitely not on Earth, that much I knew. This room looked like something out of a Scottish castle, with stone walls, thick rugs, and large, elaborately carved dark furniture. No sign of heating vents, radiators—nothing. The only warmth came from the fireplace.

If the room didn’t convince me, Theon did. He was so obviously not human. It wasn’t only his ears that gave it away. When he’d realized I was cold in my very thin suit, he’d worked magic—I’m talking literal magic minus the wand—and put a heating spell on a blanket before laying it on my lap.

Magic.

Magic.

If a hobbit showed up, I’d not be surprised at this point.

Well, I’d be all sorts of surprised, but also kind of expecting it.

Theon sat with one leg crossed over the other, glass of wine in hand, staring at me like he was concerned I might either have hysterics or pass out. Since I was debating between the two, he was right to worry.

“Are you all right?”

That was the fucking question, wasn’t it? “Debatable. Okay, let me see if I have all of this straight. I’m in a world with magic, Fae, Orcs, Giants, etcetera—none of which actually exist in my world, by the way, so I’m still wrapping my head around that. I’m in the northernmost dukedom in Northgaard, it borders a wasteland, and there’s a thick miasma that keeps pushing down from the north. Whenever this happens, the mages in the capital tend to summon someone capable of battling it back. I got all that right?”

“You do.” He sipped his wine again. “I can only assume you were summoned, as I can’t imagine how else you got here. You’re not a mage, you said.”

“Look, if I had the ability to use magic to fix my problems, I would have started using it a good five years ago.” I rubbed my forehead. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the insane situation I’d found myself in, but I felt like I could sleep this problem away if given a few minutes to settle.

Seriously, I felt like I’d fallen into one of those portal story webtoons. Which I generally loved and devoured but in no way wished to be in. I felt like making a bingo sheet.

Summoned from another world? Check.

Killed by truck-kun? Check.

Miasma/monster threatening the dukedom? Check.

MC is the duke of a northern territory? Check.

MC likes to show off his abs? Check.

Damn. I was totally in an isekai, which brought up a whole new set of questions.

First, what genre was I in? High fantasy? Romance fantasy? Please, no tragedy. I didn’t even like reading that, much less wanted to live it.

Follow-up question: what was I supposed to do here? I was no mage, that was for sure, so I didn’t see how I could fix any of these problems.

Theon took a deep breath, nose working like a hound’s. “I smell Fae magic upon you. Something small, so it’s not readily obvious.”

I gave him the blankest stare to ever stare. “Eh?”

“Do you mind?” He gestured toward me as he got up.

Did I mind a hot man feeling me up? Uh, let me think about that. “Go ahead.”

I stood to make things easier, leaving the blanket on the chair. Theon came in closer, and it was then I realized he was taller than me. I didn’t think myself short at five foot ten, but Theon had a good five inches on me. He also smelled amazing. That scent you catch when walking through a forest and the sun is out strong—that’s what he smelled like. Did all Fae carry this scent?

I wanted to bury my nose in the crook of Theon’s neck and nuzzle in. Wasn’t sure if it was lust—and having him so close to me—but I also haven’t had a good cuddle in five years and might be a bit touch starved.

Theon didn’t use the chance to cop a feel, instead staying very businesslike while he searched through my suit coat pockets. He grunted in victory as he straightened. In his hand he displayed the coin I’d picked up off the street. How that’d ended up in my pocket was anyone’s guess, as I certainly hadn’t put it in there. I’d been too busy trying to get out of the way of the truck.

“This,” Theon said with a curious stare at me, “is Fae wrought. Made by a very fine smith, I believe. You said such magic doesn’t exist on your world.”

“It doesn’t.” I stared at the coin with all due suspicion. “I picked that up off the street because it was shiny and caught my attention. Is that how people are summoned here?”

Theon shrugged. “I do not know the details of how the mages do it. We’d have to ask to know. But I would think, if magic doesn’t exist on your world, that this coin might well be the vehicle for bringing you here.”

I mean, man made sense. I couldn’t fault his logic.

“Do you wish to return to your world?” Theon asked gently.

Did I? It didn’t take a full second for me to know the answer to that. Which made me sad, in a way, because shouldn’t everyone want to go home? Truly, I didn’t. It was with some regret that I told him, “No. I don’t. Honestly speaking, I think I died in that world. Truck-kun got me.”

“Truck-kun?” he repeated with confusion.

Ah, right. Inside joke. He wouldn’t get it. “Think of it as a very large carriage that ran me over.”

“Oh.” Theon paused on that for a second before offering, “My condolences?”

“Heh. Yeah, weird for me to say that since I’m alive, breathing, and drinking some very excellent wine. Did you bring out the good stuff for this conversation?”

“Felt like we both needed it.” A small, fleeting smile passed over his face as he returned to his seat.

Aww, he was a sweetheart after all. I mean, as first impressions went, he came off as a hard-ass. Theon’s sharp cheekbones and high brow gave him resting bitch face, but I think anyone would freak out finding a man suddenly in their bed. He’d not threatened me once since then. He’d even given me wine and explained shit, which I really, truly appreciated. He might’ve looked like your typical duke of the north archetype, with his black hair, golden eyes, and strong physique, but fortunately for me, he wasn’t an asshole MC. Thank god.

“So, what now?” I had no clue.

“Now, we sleep.” He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “No decision made after midnight is a good one.”

“You make a solid point there.”

But where would I sleep? I doubted he’d let me sleep in his bed. I had no context for how big this house was. Was I in, like, a ranch-style house with a few bedrooms? A castle? Somewhere in between? Legit, no idea.

Theon got up, went to the bedroom door, and opened it before sticking his head out. “Mrs. Hale, if you would.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

I recognized the voice. She was the one who had brought up the wine. Poor woman hadn’t been standing outside this whole time, had she?

I got up, heading for the door. A tired-looking woman stood there with a lantern in one hand. She had a matronly figure, her greying hair escaping a loose plait over her shoulder, and she was wearing a robe. Still, tired as she was, she smiled.

“Hello, sir. I am Elizabeth Hale, I run the household.”

“Hello, Mrs. Hale,” I greeted in return. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s all right, sir. That’s what I’m here for. Come this way, please.”

I said good night to Theon, but “this way” turned out to be right next door.

Mrs. Hale chattered as she led me in. “Excuse the feminine decor. The lady of the house normally uses this room, but His Grace is single right now. I freshened up the linens and laid in a fire, so you should be warm enough for the night. There’s sleepwear laid out on the bed. I’ll see about getting you a change of clothes in the morning. There’s a bell pull near the bed if you need anything.”

The decor in here did indeed look feminine. Lots of pinks and golds, the furniture an ash white in color. Pretty, just not what I would have chosen for my own bedroom. The hearth had a full fire going, and while the air was still chilly, I had no doubt it would warm up fast.

“Thank you,” I told her, as she seemed anxious for some reason. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.”

Reassured, she gave me another smile. “Good night then, sir.”

She left, and I was kind of at a loss at that point. Normally, I played a game on my phone or read before going to bed, but that wasn’t an option here. I wasn’t really tired; it had been midafternoon in my world, after all.

Restless, I headed for the desk. Paper, paper, I wanted paper. I was going to make myself a bingo card. Why? Because I was awake and drunk.

Paper was in the top-right drawer, and there were pens in a pen holder on top of the desk, so I was set. I plopped myself down in the chair and set to work drawing lines. I almost drew a regular-sized bingo sheet, thought better of it, and instead made a twenty-four-square grid.

Yeah, let’s start there. I could always add squares.

I started filling them in, rather haphazardly because drunk me had no methodology whatsoever. I wrote down the eight tropes I knew I’d experienced, plus some others I knew from reading so many webtoons. We’d see if those others happened or not. Eventually, I couldn’t think of anything else (still had four squares to fill, but whatever), and yawns threatened to split open my face. I gave up, tugged off my clothes, slipped into the sleepwear laid out for me. I then snuggled into the bed, which wasn’t as cold as I’d feared it would be.

There were two options facing me. Either I really had died by a semitruck hitting me, and all this was a post-death fantasy of some sort, or I had been portaled into another world. I didn’t think my imagination was good enough to make all this up, so…portal? As fantastical as that sounded.

Really, I was too drunk to make any decisions either way.

I hereby declared this was Tomorrow Me’s problem. Today Me had reached bandwidth capacity.

Ooh, bed was comfy. My feet had warmed up too. I yawned, snuggling into the pillow a bit more. I’d just sleep and…someone would wake me up…probably.