Thana narrowed her eyes at the man wearing the strange uniform. Her gaze shifted from his face to his backside, then quickly snapped back up to his wide-eyed, flustered expression. She shoved the unnecessary distraction aside, her temper bubbling just beneath the surface.
"You... You made all that terrible noise!" she blurted out, her voice sharp and accusing. She pointed at him, her hand trembling slightly with the intensity of her frustration.
The uniformed man blinked, looked down at the shattered plates and metal goblet now scattered at his feet, and then slowly raised his gaze to meet hers again. His mouth opened, then closed. His expression shifted between embarrassment and confusion as he fumbled for words.
"I... Well, I didn't mean to. You startled me," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly. He quickly looked to the older woman for help, as if her presence might rescue him from this awkward mess. But she remained calmly seated, a soft, unreadable smile curving her lips. Her eyes, however, gleamed with something Thana couldn't quite name. Recognition, maybe. Or perhaps suspicion.
Thana caught that lingering look from the woman and frowned.
"Why were you calling me Adelaide?" she asked, folding her arms. "That's not my name."
The woman's smile didn't fade. She leaned forward slightly on her stool, the broom still in her grip.
"Because that's the name you screamed before you woke up, dear. But if it isn't your name, what shall we call you?" she asked gently.
"Thana. Thana Davis."
As soon as the name left her lips, a small hush settled in the room. Thana could feel it. Some invisible shift, a quiet note of tension.
She looked around, trying to ground herself. The room was unlike anything she was used to. It was spacious, large enough to hold a modest kitchen and sleeping area in one. There were no dividing walls, only a patchwork rug that separated the hearth from the neatly made bed where she sat.
The white-painted concrete walls were chipped and cracked, exposing the wear of age. A single arched window allowed filtered sunlight to spill into the space, casting a golden hue across the wooden floor.
Everything here felt... old. Not just old like antiques, but old in the way fairytales feel ancient. The furniture had no trace of plastic or modern design. Even the hearth crackled with real fire, no sign of a switch or button in sight. The scent of herbs and dried flowers lingered faintly in the air.
Still, it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, despite the strangeness, Thana realized she could breathe easily here. Her chest didn't feel tight with dread. Her wounds, though sore, had been treated and wrapped in fresh bandages. She wasn't covered in blood or dirt anymore. Someone had changed her into a white nightgown that reached her ankles and hung loosely off her shoulders.
The bed she sat on was warm and soft beneath her, more comfort than she'd felt in weeks—maybe even months. But something didn't add up.
"Everyone stop," she suddenly said, sitting up straighter. Her voice rang out like a warning bell.
The uniformed man startled, dropping another shard of broken glass with a clatter. His mother shot him a glare but turned back to Thana with calm concern.
"Is something wrong, Thana?"
Thana's brows furrowed as she gestured around the room. "Why... why does everything look so old? The furniture, the clothes, the tools on the counter... Even you people. You're all dressed like... like you walked out of a historical drama."
The woman's expression faltered for the first time.
"That's quite a thing to say, considering how strange your own clothes were," Elias muttered under his breath.
Thana turned to him sharply. "Excuse me?"
Elias huffed. "Mother, why are we even entertaining this nonsense? We should report her. She's acting like a lunatic. She could be a spy. Or worse... a witch."
"A witch?" Thana laughed. "I'm clearly not a witch, you wanker."
Elias blinked. "What?"
Thana smirked. "Wanker. It's an insult. Fitting for someone with a stick that far up their—"
"That's enough!" the woman said firmly, though a hint of amusement flashed in her eyes. "Elias, behave."
Thana and Elias glared at each other in silence, clearly not getting along. From the moment they'd spoken, they'd clashed like flint and steel. The air between them shimmered with mutual irritation.
"So your name is Elias, huh," Thana muttered, her gaze cold. "Figures."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"It means you look like an Elias. Stiff. Uptight. Like someone who reads rule books for fun."
Before he could retort, a spoon clanked loudly against his forehead.
"Ow! Mother Teresa!" Elias groaned, rubbing the spot.
Thana stared, wide-eyed. "You just threw that spoon at your son."
"Yes, and I'll throw another if he keeps running his mouth," Teresa said calmly.
"Okay, who are you people?" Thana asked, unable to keep her curiosity in check.
Teresa folded her hands on her lap. "My name is Teresa Giles. That's my son, Elias. I understand you're confused, dear. You've been through something... unusual. But it's best you stay here for now. Until we can speak with the prince."
Thana blinked. "The what?"
"The prince. He'll want to know you've arrived. Especially considering your appearance and injuries. The forest is dangerous, and people don't just survive a night out there on their own."
Thana's mind whirled. "So let me get this straight. You saved me from the woods. I wake up in some medieval cottage with a prince nearby. And I'm supposed to just sit tight?"
"You'd rather be thrown back out into the forest?" Elias snapped.
Thana gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe. At least trees don't talk back."
Elias scowled. "Is she always like this?"
"I don't know. She's been awake for less than twenty minutes," Teresa replied, unfazed.
"Listen," Thana said, lowering her voice. "I'm grateful you patched me up. Really. But this place isn't right. I don't know how to explain it... It's like everything's shifted sideways."
Teresa tilted her head slightly. "What year is it where you come from?"
Thana hesitated. "2025."
The silence that followed was so thick, it pressed against her ears.
Elias laughed—short and bitter. "Impossible. It's the year 1715. There's no such thing as 2025."
Thana's heart dropped.
"What...?"
"You must've hit your head harder than we thought," he added, but even he didn't sound convinced.
Suddenly, the truth threatened to crash over her like a tidal wave. Her knees went weak, her breath shallow.
"Are you telling me... I'm not in my world anymore?"
Teresa stood slowly, placing a gentle hand on Thana's shoulder.
"I think... you've crossed into ours."
Thana looked at the woman. For a moment, she saw no malice there. Only worry. But she still didn't trust any of them.
She forced a smirk to hide her panic. "Great. So I've time-traveled. Or what, fallen through dimensions? That explains the talking trees and the naked guy in the forest."
Elias stiffened. "What naked guy?"
"Oh, now you're interested," Thana teased, even as her heart raced. She didn't want to admit how much that moment haunted her. How those glowing eyes had stirred something in her chest.
Elias drew his sword.
She flinched, startled as he raised the blade toward her. It wasn't an attack, just a warning. But it was still enough to make her breath catch.
"I will not be mocked," he said coldly.
Thana stood. The nightgown slipped off one shoulder, baring her skin. Elias turned instantly, hand flying to his eyes.
"Mother! What did you dress her in!" he shouted, voice cracking.
Thana stared at him, then burst into laughter.
"What in the actual hell?"