Transmigration: One Among The Many.

Prologue

The silky white curtains danced in a rhythm, 'unknown'. The early winter breeze drifted into the room as the temperature dropped slightly. 
"Hiss...C-cold", stuttered the man who lay sprawled over the bed before covering himself in a cocoon of blankets moving away from the open window to avoid the wind. The room then returned to its former tranquility without the slightest hint of movement from its occupant.
.
.
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Minutes passed by but the man remained unmoved from his position until the helter-skelter of people moving about and the sound of their hurried footsteps woke him up from his sleepy stupor. Jean with much effort sat up on the bed unable to make anything out of the noise the people were making as they talked in hushed voices. As a late riser, Jean often has the problem of being in a daze after waking up, not that the hangover helped since he had gotten himself drunk till he lost consciousness the previous night.

Adjusting his eyes to the bright daylight he finally took notice of his surroundings.

Confused, he looked around. He was, right now in a room that looked rather cozy and it screamed of sheer sophistication if one ignored the mess of documents and papers scattered around. The walls were of a creamy shade with nothing but a few paintings and simple hangings adorning them. The furniture too was simple, light in color nothing dark or lavish. The bed that he was currently sitting on was way softer and cozier, unlike his original one which often gave him the cramps. But that was not what concerned him right now. As he got himself out of the bed, with careful steps he made his way around his room. And, like any other normal person who woke up in an unknown place which was not the messy room they had slept in at night the only thought running through his mind at the moment was -

'Where on earth am I?'(⁠˘⁠･⁠_⁠･⁠˘⁠)

Jean could swear he had thrown himself onto his bed right after getting drunk the night before. He never drank outside his room for fear of getting into trouble but that happened only once and since then he had made it a habit to always drink in his room. Now as he stayed rooted to his spot he tried to recall any event that might have taken place after he got drunk, but no, not a single thing happened. Hell! he was damn sure he was dreaming right now. But being sure about something and the reality of a situation are two different things. Even when he pinched himself till his skin turned red he could not wake himself up. So that meant only one thing, he wasn't dreaming.

He transmigrated. As to where? He doesn't know.

It hasn't been even four seconds for him to try to come to terms with his situation when a knock sounded at the door (which was twice the size of his closet in his apartment which he had rented just two months prior).

Panicked, Jean, circled his room unable to find a place to hide. Looking right and left helplessness and hopelessness took over him at the same time."Calm down dammit!", he cursed under his breath as he continued his aimless search for a safe corner.

Not knowing what he should do at this moment he decided to take deep breaths...*in and out, in and out*...That's what his mother had taught him among the many things as a kid. Whenever he felt anxious or panicked he often did this to calm himself down and even now in this unknown place, it helped.

A young voice sounded from the other end of the door, "Y-Your Highness are you awake?". 'Highness who?', Jean thought trying to figure out who the aforementioned 'Highness' was and how for heaven's sake his hair grew so long as to cover almost all of his face(?)as he fixed his now long hair.

The younger man not getting any reply tried for a second time, this time a bit louder "Your Highness!".As much as Jean did not want to respond to the call he figured that if he didn't then things might get a bit out of hand. So he decided to bite the bullet.