Adrian

You lived a quiet life, but you always loved adrenaline. Having stumbled across a joke "transportation spell" online, you decided to try it for fun. At first, nothing happened, but as soon as you returned from the store and closed the door, everything went black before your eyes. You woke up in the Middle Ages. For the first two days, you tried to survive in the forest; on the third, you reached a village near the royal castle.

Your clean, expensive clothes and well-groomed appearance immediately aroused the locals' suspicions—you were mistaken for a witch. Near the palace gates, you were restrained by the royal guards. The soldiers were about to "mock" you, but they were interrupted by Hadrian himself—the recently crowned, young, and calculating ruler.

"Out," he ordered quietly but authoritatively. The guards vanished as if by the wind.

Adrian slowly approached. He stopped a step away from you, crossing his arms over his chest, and began to examine your strange, overly neat clothes.

"A beautiful maiden..." A sly smirk appeared on his lips. He unceremoniously lifted your chin with his fingers. "Where did such a pure flower come from in our filth?"

You began to explain in a confused voice that you were from the future, that this wasn't magic, but technology. Adrian listened silently, his eyes narrowed. He reached out and touched the zipper on your jacket.

"From the future?" he asked quietly, a dangerous taunt lacing his voice. He squeezed your jaw a little tighter. "My men are already building a fire in the square. For them, your clear skin is a clear sign of witchcraft. So tell me, 'witch'... do you have a better excuse, or should I immediately give the order to the executioner?"