Chapter 1. Poisoned?

The first thing I felt was the taste of the salad in my mouth, and the salad was clearly bitter. Apparently, it was due to unrefined oil in it.

Vision, hearing and even touch have not yet returned to me after complete darkness, from which I emerged, and therefore the bitter taste filled my whole being.

Only five seconds later I realized that I was lying in this salad face down.

Probably, I would have twitched, shouted or did something else stupid, and that could have been the end of me (who knows how the events would have gone then — I have no clue why the owner of the body died). But the ability to control the body has not returned to me either.

"The king is dead!!" the shout came from above my ear, but I could not even flinch. "The king was poisoned!"

And then everything was filled with all kind of sounds.

It was a completely moronic situation: you are lying face down in a sultry salad and you cannot move, while everyone else is screaming and wailing around, and your sight, the last remaining sense, is in no hurry to come back to you.

Or maybe the vision has returned a long time ago, and I just can't open my eyes? Damn, I could barely breathe. Some pea was beating in my right nostril, there was still some food in my throat, and only my open left nostril prevented me from parting with this life.

There was only one thing left. I must try to listen to the cacophony of screams and make out what they were screaming about.

"Treason!" shouted someone to the right of me.

Well, yes, cooking such a salad was surely a treason. By the way, what salad is it? It doesn't seem like Russian salad, and peas seem out of place.

"There is no healer!" said someone with a panic in his voice. "Looks like he's not in the castle at all!"

"Well, yes, because the murderers took care of everything," in this firm and brutal voice was no fear. Rather, it was filled with anger. I don't really know why, but the owner of the voice unwittingly felt respectable.

"Stop talking nonsense! What could they do to a royal healer?"

Yeah, they definitely shoved him in the nightstand. What kind of silly woman asked this?

"A magician! Did they also got rid of the mage?" asked someone to the left of me.

Ah-ha, so, there is magic. Seems like this life is going to be fun ... As soon as I am able to open my eyes, move and understand what's going on in this madhouse.

"The magician will not help," said an old man. He unceremoniously raised my hand and let it go in order to show everyone that it belonged to a corpse. "The king is dead. Or do you expect a necromancer, Sir Crustis?"

Is it only me, or is he happy about it?

Wait a minute. Did he say "king"?

Yes, and at the very beginning, I've definitely heard something about it too. To be honest, I did not pay any attention at that time ... So, I am in the body of the king ?!

Yeah, a dead one at that. Poisoned by a disgusting salad. The court chef is as good as dead, I thought, envisioning his head on a stake.

Well, in such conditions and with such opportunities ... It would be a piece of cake to tinge my karma. The King status certainly opens up great possibilities.

In fact, of course, the chef was hardly to blame. The situation became clear. It's the usual political murder ... And I wanted to moan. I am all on my own amid the detractors.

Poisoning the king is not a pickpocket. You can't commit such a crime within ten minutes. You need a long preparation, and most importantly, a large number of conspirators. Surely the castle is teeming with traitors.

And I have one chance. Not only my life is at stake. My very existence depends on my further actions.

And they must be reasonable. I should, at the very least, assess the whole picture, and then, depending on the situation, seize the initiative.

So now I am just going to open my eyes. With a power of will. I'll just have to ... open ... my eyelids.

I opened my eyes, for a second or two trying to see as much as possible ... and I half-opened them, leaving only a light squint. Now, it is too early to leave the role of a dead man.

There was a complete mess around me.

Spacious light hall ... It seems that there was some kind of feast. I wonder if they have some kind of celebration, or do they just eat like this every day?

However, I had no appetite after a tasty salad.

Once again, I looked around the audience, everyone just continued to make noise. The courtiers in full dress, ladies in long dresses, tons of gold and jewelry ...

In an amicable way, you need to do everything slyly. For example, pretend to be dead. Escape, so that no one notices, and go out into the light, all the while gathering some supporters.

On the other hand though, where should I start? Maybe, arrange a peasant uprising? Or ... raise some poor rebels?

Probably, it will bring me a lot of "karma", but that's just ... it is unlikely that I will succeed.

"It should be obvious to everyone, that this is a heinous murder!" spoke through his nose the old man in gilded clothes. It was he who checked whether I was alive or not.

He didn't have any jewelry in the form of bracelets, rings or something like that. All of his clothes—a large spacious robe and high episcopal hat—were simply trimmed with gold and gems! How come everyone just didn't crush him?

"I cannot but agree with you, Your Eminence," said a tall, short-haired guy of my age, who felt definitely confined in his velvet dress suit. It was his voice that earned me respect. "But who is behind it?"

"Traitors!" howled His Eminence. "Do you understand what that means ?! The father of King Genevisa did not die either! As we suspected, someone has encroached on his life and achieved a success!"

Is Genevisis supposed to be me? And has someone managed to kill my dad? Such a shame ...

"And now," screamed the old man. "The son shared fate of his father!"

He made some strange gesture towards my body. Apparently, this gesture was sacred.

"This is not just an attempted assassination of the King Genevisa!" nodded the mustached man to the left of me. "This is an encroachment on the whole dynasty! The whole kingdom is out on a limb!"

I, being a complete stranger and someone who does not know the local political issues, did not understand their vague hints. Yet, it was obvious that every phrase in the dispute was said to prod someone. Judging by the way the tall guy grew more sour with every word, it was he who people tried to accuse of my murder.

"And why did you even think that the king was poisoned?" suddenly cut in some very smart youngster, who was about 16. "Maybe, he just choked! My aunt, you know ..."

All eyes were on him. It seems that the young man was not a supporter of another political faction, but simply an idiot.

"In this case, do you want to try the dish for yourself?" asked a tall guy and pulled out a plate of salad under me (I painfully hit my chin on the stone countertop) and handed it to the youngster. But he quickly draw in his horns and disappeared behind someone's backs.