AWAKENED IN ANOTHER WORLD AS AN HIGH ELF

Chapter 7: A Close Call

Ethan’s eyes wandered around the unfamiliar room as he tried to figure out where he was supposed to get ready. He had already discovered that the people downstairs expected him to attend a royal ceremony, but nobody had bothered to tell him where the bathroom was.

He glanced toward one side of the room and noticed a narrow wooden door built into the wall, its surface decorated with faint silver markings that glowed softly whenever the light from the windows touched them.

“That has to be it,” he muttered, walking toward it.

He had barely raised his hand toward the doorknob when the door opened by itself.

Ethan stopped.

The door swung inward with a quiet, almost polite movement, revealing a bathroom unlike anything he had ever seen on Earth.

He stepped inside slowly, his eyes moving across the room in disbelief.

The bathroom looked as though someone had taken the elegance of a royal palace and combined it with advanced magical technology.

Smooth white stone covered the floor and walls, but instead of ordinary tiles, thin golden lines ran between the slabs, glowing faintly beneath his feet.

A large circular bathtub rested in the center of the room, carved from pale blue crystal and surrounded by a raised platform of polished marble. Steam drifted lazily from the water even though no fire or heating system was visible anywhere.

Along the far wall stood a wide basin made from dark silver metal, its surface so smooth that Ethan could see his reflection in it. Above the basin hung several floating glass containers filled with different colored liquids, each one suspended in the air without any visible support.

There were no pipes beneath the sinks.

No showerhead.

No electrical switches.

Instead, several small crystal stones had been embedded into the walls, each one carrying a different magical symbol. One glowed with a faint blue light, another with a warm orange glow, and a third pulsed softly like a living heartbeat.

Ethan stared at them.

“So this is how they do plumbing in a magical world,” he murmured.

He walked farther into the bathroom, still taking everything in, until something caught his attention.

A mirror.

It was much larger than an ordinary mirror, stretching nearly from the floor to the ceiling. Its frame was made of dark wood intertwined with thin silver vines, and tiny blue flowers seemed to bloom along the edges despite there being no soil anywhere near them.

Ethan approached it.

Then he saw his reflection.

He stopped so suddenly that his breathing almost caught.

For several seconds, he simply stared.

The person looking back at him was not the Ethan he knew.

His face was younger and sharper, with smooth, clear skin and features that were almost unnaturally well balanced. His jaw was defined without being too broad, his nose straight, and his lips naturally shaped in a way that gave his face an almost elegant appearance. His hair was a vivid green, falling loosely around his forehead and the sides of his face, with several strands resting near his eyes.

Then there were his eyes.

Ethan leaned closer.

One eye was blue while the other was red.

The difference was so striking that he almost forgot to breathe.

A small golden earring hung from his left ear, catching the light whenever he moved. Beneath the loose strands of green hair, Ethan could also see faint markings running along the side of his neck.

He slowly pulled down the collar of the shirt he was wearing.

More tattoos appeared across his skin.

They were not ordinary tattoos.

Thin black and silver patterns curled over his shoulders and spread across his chest, forming intricate shapes that looked almost like magical symbols. Some resembled vines, while others looked like ancient runes. They seemed to follow the natural lines of his body rather than simply being painted onto the skin.

“An elf,” Ethan whispered, his eyes unable to leave his reflection.

He had watched enough fantasy movies and played enough fantasy games to know exactly what he was looking at. Pointed ears. Unnaturally beautiful features. Strange eyes. Magical tattoos.

This was exactly how elves were supposed to look.

What he had never imagined was that one day he would wake up and find himself looking at one in the mirror.

And worse, he was the elf.

Ethan stared at himself for another few seconds before finally exhaling.

“This is officially the weirdest day of my life.”

He could have stood there for another ten minutes trying to understand what had happened, but the sound of Lyra's earlier voice came back to him.

The ceremony begins in fifteen minutes.

Ethan glanced toward the door.

He had no idea what would happen if he arrived late, but judging by Adrian's attitude, it probably would not end well.

“Alright,” he muttered, turning away from the mirror. “Questions later. Bath first.”

…….

A few minutes later, after washing away the sweat and discomfort from his body, Ethan stepped out of the bathroom.

He was completely naked when he entered the bedroom, but before he could even wonder where he was supposed to find a towel, something soft floated through the air from the other side of the room.

Ethan turned around, and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw a white towel drifting toward him.

The towel stopped directly in front of his chest as though it were waiting.

“You've got to be kidding me,” he chuckled in disbelief as he reached for it.

The moment his fingers touched the fabric, the towel settled naturally into his hand.

Ethan chuckled under his breath as he dried his hair first, then wiped the water from his face and worked his way down his body. The towel was soft and surprisingly warm, and by the time he finished, his skin was completely dry.

He released the towel, expecting it to fall. But instead of falling to the floor, the towel floated gently through the air, folded itself neatly, and settled across a hanger beside the wardrobe.

Ethan watched it go.

Then the large wooden closet opened by itself.

Several outfits immediately floated out.

One after another, shirts, trousers, coats, belts, boots, and other pieces of clothing emerged from the wardrobe and arranged themselves in the air in front of him.

“What the fuck,” Ethan whispered, his eyes fixed on the clothes in front of him.

The clothes remained suspended in a neat row, each outfit complete and perfectly arranged as though an invisible stylist were presenting him with different choices.

One outfit consisted of a dark green coat with silver embroidery, black trousers, a white shirt, and polished black boots.

Another was more formal, with a deep blue jacket, silver buttons, fitted trousers, and a long cloak.

A third consisted of a black high-collared shirt, dark trousers, a fitted vest, and silver accessories.

“Now this is more like it,” Ethan murmured as he moved between the floating outfits, examining them one by one before finally choosing the dark blue jacket.

The moment his hand touched it, the other clothes smoothly turned around and floated back into the wardrobe.

The closet closed by itself with a soft click.

Several minutes later, Ethan was finally dressed.

He stood in front of the tall mirror in the bedroom, carefully adjusting the collar of his shirt before smoothing the dark blue jacket across his shoulders.

He glanced at his reflection again, then reached up and adjusted the golden earring in his left ear.

The small piece of jewelry caught the light as he tilted his head, adding a strange touch of elegance to an appearance he was still not completely used to seeing in the mirror.

For a moment, he simply stared at himself.

He had to admit it.

Logan Varello looked good.

Very good.

Ethan slowly turned his shoulders, studying the fit from another angle.

"Not bad," he murmured under his breath, allowing the smallest smile to appear.

He was still examining his reflection when the bedroom door suddenly opened.

Ethan's eyes immediately shifted toward it.

Lyra stepped into the room.

She had changed as well.

The black dress she had worn earlier was gone, replaced by an elegant gown that fitted her figure perfectly. The dark fabric flowed naturally around her body, emphasizing her graceful movements without making the dress look overly extravagant. Her long dark hair had been gathered loosely over one shoulder, leaving several strands free to fall against her pale neck.

A thin silver circlet rested across her forehead, its simple design almost delicate compared to the regal appearance it gave her. At its center sat a tiny black stone that caught the light whenever she moved.

Ethan's heart gave an unexpected skip.

He quickly cleared his throat and straightened his posture, forcing his face into a calm expression before turning away from the mirror.

"So," he said, lifting his arms slightly as he glanced down at himself, "how do I look?"

Lyra stopped.

She remained just inside the doorway with one hand resting lightly against the frame, staring at him as though he had just said something completely unexpected.

Her expression was not angry.

It was confusion.

She slowly tilted her head, her brows drawing together as she studied him. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She closed them again, then looked at him for another long moment.

The silence continued.

Ethan's confidence slowly disappeared.

He lowered his arms.

Had he said something wrong?

Lyra finally stepped away from the doorway and entered the room, her footsteps soft against the stone floor. She kept her eyes on him as she approached, her expression becoming increasingly difficult for Ethan to read.

"You," she said carefully, almost as if she needed to make sure she had heard him correctly, "are asking me how you look?"

Ethan gave her a cautious nod. "Yes. I mean, I thought it made sense to ask."

Lyra stared at him for another second before letting out a quiet breath. "You've never asked anyone that before," she said, her voice filled with genuine disbelief. "Not once."

Ethan's stomach tightened.

Lyra continued toward him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she searched his face. "Not in all the years I've known you. You have never cared about how you look."

She paused in front of him, then folded her arms lightly across her chest.

"You would wake up, grab whatever clothes happened to be closest to the bed, put them on, and walk straight out of the room without even looking in a mirror," she reminded him, a faint trace of amusement entering her voice. "And whenever Mira complained about it, you always told her that clothes were nothing more than a way to avoid being arrested for indecent exposure."

Ethan's face remained calm.

Inside, however, his mind was screaming.

Fuck!

One harmless question.

That was all it had taken.

He had somehow managed to step directly onto one of the smallest but most important pieces of Logan's personality.

His heart beat faster as he searched desperately for something to say.

He could not suddenly become interested in fashion without giving Lyra another reason to become suspicious. Logan had apparently never cared about his appearance, so why would he suddenly stand in front of a mirror and ask someone how he looked?

"I..." Ethan began, but the word died almost immediately.

Nothing came to him.

Lyra watched him closely.

Ethan forced himself not to look away.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then something changed in Lyra's expression.

The suspicion slowly faded from her eyes, replaced by something softer. The tension around her brows disappeared, and the faintest smile touched the corner of her lips.

"But since you want to know," she said at last, her voice becoming quieter and warmer, "you look good."

Ethan blinked.

"Good?" he repeated, almost as though he needed confirmation.

Lyra's smile grew slightly.

"Very good," she corrected, her voice gentle.

She stepped closer before Ethan could respond and raised both hands toward his collar.

Her fingers lightly touched the fabric as she adjusted it, smoothing the edge of his shirt before straightening the collar of his jacket. She worked with quiet familiarity, as though she had done it countless times before.

Ethan stood completely still.

He could feel every small movement of her fingers.

Lyra pulled the front of his jacket into place, then gently brushed away a tiny crease near his shoulder. She straightened the line of the fabric once more before placing her hands briefly against his shoulders.

"There," she murmured, her voice almost too soft to hear. "Now it looks right."

Ethan swallowed, his heart suddenly accelerating due to the closeness.

Lyra's hands remained on his shoulders for another moment.

Then she slowly lifted her eyes to his, and their gazes met.

Ethan suddenly became aware of how close she was. He could smell the faint fragrance of night jasmine on her skin, soft and fresh, and he could see the tiny details in her eyes that he had not noticed from across the room.

Neither of them moved.

For a few seconds, the entire room seemed strangely quiet.

There was something in Lyra's expression that Ethan could not understand.

It was not simply affection.

There was warmth there, but there was also worry. Something deeper seemed to sit beneath both emotions, carefully hidden behind the calm expression she had spent years perfecting.

Then Ethan remembered the System's words.

Subject has been in love with Logan Varello for eight years.

His chest tightened slightly.

Eight years.

He looked at Lyra differently for a moment.

Eight years of feelings.

Eight years of memories that belonged to Logan, not him.

And yet, standing this close to her, Ethan could not help wondering how much of what he was seeing had been hidden behind all those years of silence.

Before he could think any further, Lyra slowly lowered her hands.

She stepped backward, creating distance between them, and the strange moment immediately began to fade.

"The others are waiting downstairs," she said, her voice returning to its usual brisk tone.

Ethan watched her turn toward the door.

She took two steps before suddenly stopping.

Without turning around, she added quietly, "And don't make them wait too long."

There was a faint softness in her voice that had not been there before.

Then she continued toward the doorway.

Ethan remained where he was for another second, watching her leave.

The door closed behind her.

Only then did he release the breath he had unknowingly been holding.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked back at his reflection.

The handsome man staring back at him was still Logan Varello.

At least on the outside.

But Ethan could not shake the feeling that the few minutes he had just spent with Lyra had brought him dangerously close to revealing something he was not supposed to reveal.

He stared at himself for another moment before quietly shaking his head.

"God please help me today," he muttered, forcing himself to relax.

He gave the room one final glance, adjusted his jacket once more, and headed for the door.