Chapter 1. What Was That?

Rayvenne Kaufman is a 36-year-old business development manager for a multinational corporation involved in food trading between Europe and the United States. Her parents created the company and wanted Rayvenne and her brother to carry it forward.

The last thing she remember was when she's having a dinner with her brother with his wife, and her sister. And then she remember as she tried to shield her sister-in-law, Beth, from the clutches of an obsessed woman, the memory that lingered in her mind was the sight of a truck crashing towards her at full speed.

It was the last thing she could recall before everything went dark. Every fiber of her being was convinced that this collision would be her final moment on this earth. Yet, the fact that she could still feel her body gave her a glimmer of hope and peace of mind.

Rayvenne could feel her body being broken into pieces. Every inch of her being, from her toes to her fingertips, throbbed with a terrible ache. However, it seemed as though unseen forces had ruthlessly battered her head, which was where she felt the most pain.

The pain was excruciating, consuming her every thought and leaving her feeling utterly helpless. Additionally, she felt as if someone was pressing on her ears, which was deeply unsettling.

As she's slowly regained consciousness, her senses gradually came back to life. She could hear the faint sound of voices, muffled and distant, as if they were coming from another room.

Rayvenne had the ability to sue Bauer for a considerable sum of money for harassing her sister-in-law, Beth, and herself, as well as for attempted murder. Furthermore, she could pull Bauer down to the point where they were no longer on her parents' list of major business partners, dealing a significant blow to their financial and social standing.

The smell of spices from the medicinal herbs was the first thing that caught Rayvenne's attention as she slowly regained consciousness. In the quiet room, the air was filled with an eerie stillness. The usual hum of the machines, which provided life support, was absent. The usual sounds of the footsteps of the nurses echoing through the corridors were nowhere to be heard.

Even the sound of the intravenous fluids, slowly dripping into her veins, was strangely absent. It seemed as if the room held its breath, waiting for something to break the silence. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle rhythm of her breathing; it was a stark contrast to the usual familiar hospital sounds, leaving an unsettling feeling in the air.

All of these unfamiliar sounds only amplified the persistent pain in Rayvenne's chest. It was as if a thousand tiny needles were piercing her heart, causing her to wince with every beat. With her laying there, her body felt heavy and fragile, as if it had been shattered into a million pieces.

Rayvenne's mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. The last thing she remembered was the truck crashing towards her and Beth, her instincts kicking in to shield her sister-in-law from harm. Had she succeeded in protecting Beth, or had the accident left her in this precarious state?

Panic began to set in as Rayvenne realized she had no idea where she was or how she had ended up here. The silence and stillness of the room only heightened her sense of disorientation and vulnerability. She desperately needed to know what had happened and find a way to contact her family.

With great effort, Rayvenne tried to move, wincing in pain as she did so. She had to find a way to alert someone, get answers, and ensure Beth's safety. The stakes were high, and Rayvenne was determined to use every resource at her disposal to protect her loved ones and hold Bauer accountable for their actions.

Every movement sent shockwaves of pain coursing through Rayvenne's body, reminding her of the immense suffering she was enduring. She longed for relief, for a break from the torment that seemed to consume her entire being.

Her head and chest continued to hurt, and the discomfort made it difficult for her to breathe. As she moved her fingers, she felt the smooth surface of a bedsheet. This sheet was unlike any other hospital sheet she had ever experienced; it was exceptionally soft and felt wonderful on her skin, but it was not the kind typically found in hospital suites.

Given the gravity of the incident, Rayvenne ought to be receiving treatment in an intensive care unit right about now. She should have been hooked up to a number of intravenous (IV) infusions, oxygen, potentially life support equipment, and medication in order to keep her body functioning normally. When it comes to caring for critically ill patients, most intensive care units (ICUs) have doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists on staff who have intense training and are specialists in their field.

Rayvenne, on the other hand, couldn't hear any of that—all she could sense was the gentle breeze and the sweet fragrance of the plants around her. The lack of familiar hospital sounds and equipment only added to her growing sense of confusion and unease.

"Am I immortal? Last time I checked, I wasn't a superhero. A truck crashed into me!" Rather than seeing completely white surroundings, such as the ceiling of a hospital, Rayvenne saw a white ceiling decorated with finely patterned gypsum ornaments, similar to those shown in television programs about European history. "Huh?"

Rayvenne was taken aback for a second, expecting to see a family-owned hospital suite room filled with nurses, her parents' faces, a terrified younger sister, or an anxious elder brother. Instead, she focused on the grandeur of a luxurious and exquisite room decorated with sofas, tables, chandeliers, and gold accents everywhere she looked.

In a luxurious room, she can see the bed she lays on, which is decorated with a flowing canopy. The bed gives a sense of elegance and comfort. A lovely table for a delightful morning feast or a lavish meal was well placed opposite the bed. With its smooth surface and beautiful craftsmanship, it appeared that this table was made exclusively for relishing delicious meals. Together, the bed and the table created a picturesque scene. Despite her attempts to shift and survey her surroundings, her body felt like it was being ripped apart.

"His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince!" A high-pitched voice rang in her ears.

"What Prince?" As she looked forward, her brow twitched in astonishment. Standing before her was a middle-aged woman dressed nicely in a maid's uniform. The image was strangely familiar, similar to the clothes Sarah frequently talked about in her favorite manga, which her sister insisted she read.

"His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince! Are you alright?" In the dimly lit room, the woman's tired body sank onto the floor.

Rayvenne's mind was bursting with questions. Where was she, and how did she end up in this luxurious, unidentified place? Her confusion became even greater with the maid's reference to her as the 'Crown Prince'. Was this just an odd dream, or had she been transported to another world?