《Returning the Authority: Former Owner of the Body is Still in My Head》


 Chapter 1 Where am I?

    Ed was hard at work in the hangar, tinkering with the latest agricultural robot prototype. The robot was designed to pick fruit from trees, and Ed was making final adjustments to its programming before its scheduled field tests.


    "Hey, Eddie, how''s it going?" asked his colleague John, who had just entered the hangar. "You''ve been working on that thing all morning."


    "Hey, John," Ed replied, looking up from his work. "Yeah, just putting the finishing touches on the programming. It''s a little tricky, but I think I''ve got it working now."


    "That''s great. Hey, I was thinking we could grab some lunch. You want to come?"


    "I''ll pass, thanks. I just have a little more work to do on this thing, and then I''m heading out," Ed said.


    "Suit yourself. See you later," John said as he headed for the exit.


    As soon as John was gone, Ed turned his attention back to the robot. He was almost finished when something strange happened. The robot suddenly began to move on its own, its arms flailing wildly. Ed tried to shut it down, but before he could, the robot''s arm hit a thick cable on the floor. The robot toppled over and fell on top of him, crushing him under its metal frame.


    Pain seared through Ed''s body as he lost consciousness, his vision fading to black. The sound of his own ragged breathing was the last thing he heard before he succumbed to the darkness.


    ***


    Ed barely opened his eyes, his head throbbing with a dull pain. He saw an unfamiliar white ceiling with dark wooden beams. Ed was confused and disoriented, wondering where he was and how he got there. His body wouldn''t listen, and he had trouble moving his arms and toes. "Am I paralyzed?" he thought in panic. But he gradually realized that he could move, and he began to take stock of his surroundings.


    As he looked around, Ed realized that he was lying in a large canopy bed in a room that was luxuriously furnished in an antique style. The walls were decorated with paintings and the windows were covered with heavy velvet curtains. The silence in the room was disturbing, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves outside and the distant chirping of birds.


    Ed frowned. He didn''t think his company insurance would cover such an expensive clinic.


    The man struggled to sit up and was startled by a sharp pain in his head. He grimaced, grabbed the back of his skull with his hand, and felt a large, painful lump.


    Ed looked down and saw that he was wearing a nightgown instead of his usual clothes. "What happened to me?" Ed muttered to himself, his thoughts confused and unclear. The last thing he remembered was being in the hangar, working on a prototype agricultural robot. And then the accident happened.


    This was no ordinary hospital room, that was for sure. And the lack of medical equipment only added to the confusion. "Maybe I was in a coma?" he thought. But comatose patients are usually hooked up to medical equipment, so that theory didn''t quite make sense.


    Ed looked for his phone, but there was none. He tried to get out of bed, but his legs were too weak. He wondered how long he had been lying here, alone and unattended.


    He went to the window and pulled back the curtains, revealing a view of the overgrown garden. Beyond the stone wall stretched the hills, and in the distance was a sparkling lake. Farther out were the forested mountains. The scenery was breathtaking, but it only added to his confusion.


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    "Where am I?" Ed muttered to himself. His voice sounded weak and hoarse, as if he hadn''t used it in a while. The man''s mind raced with questions, but there was no one around to answer them.


    Ed continued to explore the room, taking in every detail. The room was filled with antiques, from the ornate chandeliers to the intricately carved wooden furniture. The walls were decorated with repeated crests of griffins, crosses, and roses. The carpet was so thick it was like walking on a cloud. The room exuded wealth and opulence.


    There were large double doors and several smaller ones. He opened one of the smaller doors and discovered what appeared to be a dressing room, complete with a large full-length mirror and clothes hanging on the walls. Behind the next door he found a low wooden table with a large bowl and a strange cistern hanging above it, with a lid and a stem under the bottom. He lifted the lid and found clear water. "Manual washstand?" Ed finished in surprise. "How primitive."


    In the corner of this small room was another door. Ed opened it curiously and found a primitive toilet and cast-iron pipes. "Well, at least there is a sewer," he said with relief.


    The man began to suspect the most improbable thing, that he was in the past or in another world. "Doesn''t quantum physics allow for parallel worlds?"


    "Ahem," came a rather loud cough.


    Ed jumped and looked around, but found no one.


    "Haaah, I''m here," came a man''s voice.


    Ed retreated to the nearest wall and began to turn his head.


    "I''m in the head," the voice sighed.


    They both fell silent. Finally Ed spoke up, "Uh... System?"


    "I don''t know who Mr. System is, and I actually own the body you so rudely occupied," the voice sounded cold.


    "Wha-what?"


    "Allow me to introduce myself, Edward Rosenkreutz, only son and heir of Duke Rosenkreutz¡­ Oh! Not heir, but already Duke."


    Again there was an uncomfortable silence.


    "You mean I took over your body?" swallowed Ed.


    "Yes."


    Ed already thought that the situation he was in was extraordinary. But the appearance of the voice and its explanation still stunned him. The man waddled to the dressing room, to the mirror. The dark-haired, gray-eyed young man in the mirror wasn''t really him. He looked a little like him, but with thinner, more aristocratic features, a little younger and more handsome. Ed rubbed his two-day stubble and frowned.


    "Are you sure there isn''t a System?" he clarified.


    "You can look for Mr. System all you want, but please leave my body first, Mr. Demon," the voice said primly.


    "Why am I a demon?" resented Ed.


    "If not a demon, then a ghost?"


    "I''m an ordinary human, I work as an engineer!" the man protested.


    "Is that some kind of rare magic?"


    "No, I make robots..." Ed realized that there were hardly any robots in the world he was in. "They''re the kind of mechanisms that move by themselves. A bit like clockwork puppets."


    "So you are a magician," the voice concluded after listening to the confused explanation.


    "No, I''m an inventor, a craftsman. Like a blacksmith... Yes, a blacksmith is probably the closest."


    "Hmmm..." the young Duke in his head was skeptical. "In any case, I would prefer that you leave me. It doesn''t matter if you are a wizard, a blacksmith or something else. Just get out of my body and go on your way," the voice was full of irritation.


    "I can''t, because I don''t know how I got here." Ed sank down on the banquette in the corner of the dressing room.


    The voice in the head sighed. "We could try an exorcism."


    "Don''t you think it''s strange to ask for an exorcism on yourself?"


    "An aristocrat can come up with all sorts of nonsense. Servants have seen worse."


    Frankly, Ed wouldn''t want to try an exorcism. It might work, but it wouldn''t guarantee that Ed himself would return to his world and time. He might be thrown into another body, or he might hang around this world as a disembodied ghost.


    "We can try that, but later," the man suggested tactfully. "Right now I''d rather get dressed and eat."


    "I agree that''s a good idea," the voice in his head became prim again. "As long as you''re using my body, you have to take care of it."


    "By the way, what happened to you?" Ed recalled the large, painful lump on his head.


    "Let''s just say getting on a horse after a glass of wine wasn''t the best idea."


    Judging by the headache, it wasn''t one glass, it was many more than that.


    The owner of the body seemed to Ed to be a flighty person, but not an evil one; the man decided to build a good relationship with him. After all, he had no one else to rely on in this world.


    Ed looked around the dressing room; there must have been several hundred outfits and three dozen pairs of shoes.


    "This world is new to me, and I''m hoping for your help. Could you tell me what I can wear now?"


    "Just call the servants, they''ll do everything."


    "Servants?"


    "Of course. Or are you suggesting that you dress yourself?" the Duke snorted.


    Ed felt the headache worsen.


    "Just tell me what to wear. Please."

 Chapter 2 How to survive the morning routine?

    Ed had to let the voice help him get dressed. He didn''t want to look helpless, but the unfamiliar clothes proved a challenge. He''d never worn anything like this before. The voice echoed in his head, offering advice and guidance.


    Ed stood in front of the full-length mirror and admired his reflection. He was wearing a beautifully tailored outfit, as befitted an aristocrat of the highest class. The jacket was made of deep burgundy cloth, lined with gold brocade and decorated with intricate embroidery. The collar and cuffs were trimmed with fur, which made the ensemble look luxurious.


    Under the jacket he wore a clean white shirt buttoned with gold cufflinks. The pants were made of the same fabric as the jacket and fit perfectly, tapering down to a pair of polished leather boots with silver buckles. Only the stubble spoiled the overall image.


    Ed ran his hand over the fabric of the jacket, feeling the texture of the brocade and admiring the detail of the embroidery. "This is quite an outfit. What occasion calls for such a garment?"


    "It is simply what one wears when one is an aristocrat," the voice explained. "You always have to look your best, especially when you''re out in public."


    Ed looked again at his reflection. The expensive clothing he wore only added to the illusion of wealth and status. But it wasn''t him. He didn''t belong in this body, in this time period, in this world. The man couldn''t help but feel a sense of unease.


    The knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. A woman''s voice rang out, "Your Grace, Marie is here to help you with your morning toilet."


    Ed was taken aback. "Morning toilet?" he muttered, not sure what that meant.


    The knock came again. "Your Grace?"


    "Just let her in," the voice said in such a tone that Ed could clearly imagine the invisible Duke rolling his eyes at that moment.


    He hurried over and opened the door, trying to act like this was all normal. But the shocked reaction of the maid took him by surprise.


    "Oh gods, it was enough to answer her! Who opens the door for the servants themselves?" the voice was disgusted.


    "Sorry," Ed mentally apologized, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment.


    The maid was also extremely surprised by the master''s action. But this was not his most eccentric trick yet, and she quickly composed herself and entered the room with the basket in her hands.


    "Good morning, Your Grace. I hope you slept well," she said, her tone respectful but distant.


    The Duke''s personal maid was a small woman in her thirties with dark hair tied up in a neat bun. She wore a floor-length dress of dark gray fabric with tiny flowers and narrow white lace, giving her a modest and neat appearance.


    "Yes, thank you," Ed replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt.


    Marie looked at him with concern. "How are you feeling, Your Grace? Should I call a doctor?"


    "No, no, I''m fine. There''s no need for a doctor," Ed laughed tensely.


    "You''re already dressed," Marie noticed. "Forgive my slowness today. I''m coming early in case Your Grace wakes up early."


    Ed opened his mouth to reply, but the voice cut him off. "Be silent!"


    Marie''s help in the wash was to stand by his side and serve towels and toiletries. Then she called for the barber. Ed sat frozen in fear as a dangerous razor, more like a scalpel, removed the stubble from his face and neck. The man''s hair was also combed and styled with sweet-smelling wax.


    The barber offered him a small box of pomade. "Vampires have recently introduced the fashion for a pale look and red lips for men in the capital."


    "Uh... You know, I''d rather be less fashionable," Ed declined.


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    "I thought Your Grace was still ill, so I asked that breakfast be brought here," Marie announced. "But if you wish, the meal can be moved to the small dining room."


    "Yeah, I think that''s not a bad idea. I''d rather have breakfast in the dining room."


    Marie bowed and left the Duke''s private chambers.


    Ed let out a sigh of relief and sat down on the bed as she closed the door. He wasn''t used to having a maid, let alone someone else taking care of his personal hygiene. He couldn''t wait to get out of this situation and back into his own body.


    "What do I have to do after breakfast?" the man asked the Duke.


    "Hmmm. There is nothing important planned for today. We could visit the kennels, go for a ride. In the evening, if there are any invitations, you can attend some event. I don''t arrange anything myself. First of all, I am still in mourning for my father, and secondly, it is very expensive and troublesome, and I do not yet have a wife who could take care of such an organization.


    Ed was shocked. He had never thought that the owner of his new body could be married. He could only be glad that he didn''t have to play a role in other people''s relationships.


    "Um... Do you have someone in mind?" he asked carefully.


    "What do you mean?" the Duke didn''t understand him.


    "Well, some girl you''re seeing, a fianc¨¦e."


    "No fianc¨¦e. My mother died a long time ago, and my father was always busy at the Court and didn''t have time to arrange an engagement with another family. There is, however, a ballerina; I sponsor her and sometimes take her to restaurants. But she''s just a dancer, don''t even pay attention to her."


    Ed breathed a sigh of relief, although he did not understand what kind of relationship the Duke had with the ballerina and how he should relate to this affair.


    ***


    Following the instructions of the voice in his head, Ed made his way to the dining room, where a set table awaited him.


    Ed entered the dining room and was immediately struck by the grandeur of the room. The walls were lined with portraits of nobles, and the table itself was made of intricately carved wood, with ornate silverware and crystal glasses set neatly beside a plate of eggs and bacon.


    "A new kind of tea was brought in from the capital yesterday. Would you like to try it?" Marie asked.


    "Yes, please," Ed replied as he sat down.


    Marie poured him a cup of hot tea and placed it in front of him. The other servants entered the room carrying bowls of porridge, toast and fruit. They all bowed to Ed as they placed the food on the table.


    "Is there anything else you would like for breakfast?" Marie asked.


    "No, this is fine," Ed said in confusion, looking at the cutlery in front of him: three forks, four spoons, and two knives.


    Marie noticed that he didn''t touch his food. "Is there a problem, Your Grace?"


    "No, no, I''m fine," Ed said apologetically.


    "Oh gods... Don''t you know table manners?" the voice sighed. "What a country bumpkin I have got!"


    The voice gave a brief lecture on table manners and the proper use of cutlery. Under the Duke''s grumpy comments, Ed managed to finish his breakfast. Marie stood beside him, ready at any moment to respond to her master''s request. The man glanced at her from time to time to make sure he was behaving properly at the table. But her expression was unmoved. Either he really was acting like a regular Duke, or she was so adept at maintaining her professional equanimity.


    Ed folded his fork and knife onto his plate, as the voice had taught him, to indicate that the meal was over. And just then a servant entered with a tray. "Morning correspondence," he announced.


    Marie waved her hand, and the servant quickly cleared the table and placed the tray of letters in front of Ed. The man picked up one of the envelopes curiously; the paper was thick and yellowish. It was sealed in bright red wax with some sort of crest imprinted on it. On the front were several lines of incomprehensible writing. Ed was taken aback. He had communicated freely with people since he came to this world, and he hadn''t expected to encounter such an obstacle. Though, if you think about it logically, why should the writing be the same in different worlds?


    "You can''t read either," the voice concluded sarcastically.


    "I can read," Ed took offense. "But not in your language," he added. "In fact, I went to university; I have a master''s degree."


    "You''re a master? I''ve seen masters from the Royal Academy of Magic, but I''ve never met one so young," the voice said doubtfully. "In any case, your reading ability is no better than that of an uneducated peasant. But I will be kind and help you. I don''t want you to violate etiquette and quarrel with any of my relatives and acquaintances because of your lack of knowledge."


    Ed took letter after letter, opened them with a silver paper knife, and the Duke read each one, giving a brief summary.


    "Okay, this is an invitation, some minor nobleman, you can skip it. Now, this is very important, will have to be present. But the event itself will be in five days, so in that time I will have time to prepare you, or you will leave my body. The next one doesn''t matter either, one of the creditors is writing again."


    "How is that unimportant?"


    "They write all the time. If I have money, I''ll pay the most persistent of them," the Duke explained nonchalantly.


    "But what about the prison, the debt hole, the confiscation of property? Or what happens here if you don''t pay your debts?" Ed was shocked at the carelessness of the body''s original owner.


    "This is all for the peasants and merchants, and I am a noble person. No one will dare condemn me and deprive me of my property for such nonsense," the voice seemed to boast of its origin at that moment.


    "Hey! It won''t work like that," Ed''s stubbornness showed up here. "Let''s talk about all your debts. If I am suddenly stuck in your body for a long time, I would like to know the details of all your problems."

 Chapter 3 You are bankrupt

    With the voice reading the contents of the documents, Ed went through everything he found in the study: the real estate papers, the ledgers, the promissory notes. He wasn''t an economist, but even he knew this was bad. Not just bad. It was a real disaster!


    "You''re bankrupt," Ed informed the voice of his conclusions.


    "My contribution really isn''t that much. Of all the promissory notes, only ten are mine. The rest are still father''s."


    Ed covered his face with his hands and exhaled. "How did things get so messed up? Does the Duke''s family have so little income?"


    "The income is considerable, but so are the expenses. How much do you think it costs to maintain this palace, the servants, the horses, the kennels, the hunting lodges, the city mansion in the capital, to buy supplies, clothes, etc.? Wearing the same outfit to a formal reception twice is mauvais ton. Unfortunately, the taxes from the peasants and craftspeople on our lands do not cover all our expenses. And we also owe half to the royal family."


    "You have a lot of land, with rivers and lakes in your territory. Can''t you set up some kind of manufacturing? Or open a shop?"


    "Pfft," the Duke snorted indignantly. "I am a nobleman. It is not proper for an aristocrat to engage in such lowly activities as craft, trade, and enterprise. There are other classes for that. We were born for noble occupations."


    "And going to those other classes to borrow money is noble?"


    "Well... As a matter of fact, a few days before you took over my body, I found a few ways to fix things and pay off big debts."


    "For example."


    "A grain merchant from Silverhill wants to buy land on the riverbank where the rapids are."


    "And what''s so good about this land?"


    "I think he mentioned something about a mill," the voice said uncertainly. "To be honest, I didn''t really get it."


    "Selling the land is a one-time thing that may solve the debt problem for the moment, but it doesn''t solve the global income problem."


    "All the aristocrats are doing it. Do you think we''re the only family in Ryven that lives in debt? Even the royal family borrows from the merchant guilds."


    "If everyone lives like that, that''s no reason to repeat a way of life that has become inefficient," Ed piled up all the papers. "How do I get in touch with this grain merchant? I have a plan."


    ***


    "What are you doing?" the voice asked him warily.


    "Solving your problems." Ed replied, looking curiously out of the car window.


    "No, that''s not what I mean. What aristocrat would go to see a commoner himself? You should have written a letter, arranged a place and time to meet..."


    "And how long would that have taken?"


    "Well, an exchange of letters could take a week or two."


    "Are you sure it was only you he was negotiating with to buy the land? As long as you''re emailing back and forth, he might find a better deal."


    "You think he would cheat me?" The Duke was shocked.


    "Where do you see cheating? It''s not like you signed a contract. He has no obligation to you yet. Neither do you to him. It''s just business - you look at all the right options and choose the best one."


    The voice fell silent, as if pondering what he had heard.


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    "Ahem... by the way," the man scratched the back of his head and remarked awkwardly. "My name is also Edward, but you can call me Ed. I guess the coincidence of names is what got me into your body."


    "Can''t say it was a happy coincidence for me," the voice grumbled, then continued condescending. "You can just call me Edward, without the ''Your Grace''. You don''t really care about etiquette anyway."


    "I''m sorry, Your Grace. I''m just not used to it. There''s no aristocracy in my world, or rather, there are, but very few. And I certainly don''t have the opportunity to meet them in my life."


    "I told you, you can just call me Edward."


    "''Alright, Edward," Ed smiled and looked out the window.


    Golden fields of wheat floated past the carriage, the sky above them blue with occasional white clouds. The day was sunny and warm, with a pleasant cool breeze. The initial shock of being in another world had passed, and the current situation did not seem so bad to Ed. Maybe the new goal had helped. He knew it had always helped him deal with stress. Whenever he had a problem that needed an instant solution, he immediately became very confident and active.


    ***


    When Ed appeared on the store''s doorstep, the employees were as shocked as the Duke when the man informed him of his intention to visit the merchant himself.


    The shopkeeper immediately jumped out from behind the counter and began bowing to greet him, inserting "Your Grace" every two words. The customers who were in the store at that moment chose to simply retreat. Ed had not expected such an effect and thought that an exchange of letters might indeed be a good option. His shiny boots, embroidered cloak with fur trim, and jewelry seemed out of place here.


    While he looked curiously at the grain store, the shopkeeper kicked the boy and ordered him in a loud whisper to call the owner.


    The nervous merchant appeared a few minutes later. He shushed the workers, ordered them back to work, and with a flattering smile, led Ed up to the second floor.


    The store on the first floor was poorly furnished with a simple counter, roughly hammered benches, and large scales. The merchant''s study had a touch of luxury.


    "Your Grace, please sit down," the merchant offered, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief. "I''m sorry, it''s very simple here. If you had announced your visit in advance, I would have reserved a room at the best restaurant in town. I''ll do that right now..."


    Ed sat down in a velvet-covered chair and waved his hand. "Don''t bother. It''ll be fine. Have a seat yourself."


    "What''s his name?" the man asked the Duke in his head.


    "I don''t remember. It''s not like I have to remember the names of all the commoners."


    Ed mentally rolled his eyes at the answer.


    "I''d like to discuss your offer to buy the land by the river, if it''s still relevant to you."


    "Yes, yes, of course," the merchant sat down in a second chair.


    Ed leaned back in his chair. "I''ve considered your offer, and I''ve decided to decline. I have plans of my own for these lands."


    The merchant wiped his forehead again. "I understand, Your Grace, but you did not have to come in person to tell me that. You could have sent a letter..."


    "That is not all. I have decided to build a mill on this place myself. But since you were the first to consider the commercial potential of this piece of land, I have a business proposition for you."


    The merchant stared at him in great surprise. It was as if Ed wasn''t about to announce a business proposition, but rather swallow a burning torch right in front of him.


    "As you can guess, if it weren''t for the shortage of money, I would never even consider selling the land that has belonged to my family for centuries. So I suggest you invest in building a mill on this land."


    " Excuse me?" the merchant asked, puzzled.


    "My offer is that you lend me the money for the build of the mill. In return, you will receive a lifetime discount on the mill, as well as a percentage of its total income."


    The merchant was confused. "Forgive my impertinence, Your Grace, I am a simple man, I did not go to university, and I probably do not understand how this is different from my original offer. However, in this option, the mill would be built at my expense, but it would not belong to me.


    "First of all, it would be cheaper. You won''t have to buy the land and pay the land tax to the royal family. Second, you won''t have to worry about running the mill, hiring staff, and so on. You''ll get your money back faster and start to profit."


    The merchant thought about it. Ed could see that he found the offer interesting, but he hesitated. It was too unusual for him. It was a way of doing business the merchant had never experienced.


    ***


    The man left the shop, accompanied by the merchant and his employees.


    "You have time to consider my offer. You''re the first person I''ve offered to participate in this project, out of respect. But if you''re not interested, I''ll start looking for other partners," "How much time do I have to think about it, Your Grace?" the merchant asked.


    "A week, I think," Ed replied, fixing his cape. "When you make your decision, send a letter to my estate."


    "Goodbye, Your Grace. Good day to you," the men bowed, Ed feeling awkward as he looked at them.


    "Well, goodbye," he said a crumpled goodbye and ducked into the carriage.


    Inside, he leaned back on the cushioned couch and exhaled. "I didn''t go to those management and marketing classes at the uni for nothing."


    "It sounded pretty convincing. But I''m a little confused," the voice said. "Anyway, the main thing is to get money out of him."


    "But there''s a problem," Ed covered his face with his hand.


    "What''s that?"


    "I still don''t know his name."