His eyes darted around at the suspicious onlookers circling us like vultures. If this had been a normal situation, I probably would've been executed on the spot—for tackling a noble.
There are quite a bit of nosey people here. And why do they make the stares so obvious?
"We can't speak much longer here," he muttered, low and clipped. "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"
I pointed in the direction I came from—the forest trail hidden in the corner of the park.
His brows knitted. "That makes no sense. There shouldn't be nothing beyond those trees"
"But I did leave out of there", I motioned for him to follow. We slipped through the opening in the trees and returned to the dense quiet of the woods.
Where did mom have us living? Nothing beyond the trees, I came beyond the trees.
Halfway down the path, he paused, scanning the ground as if something was out of place or unfamiliar. I too started to look out of curiosity.Something glittered in the dirt. He bent over and picked up a palm-sized object—round, smooth, embedded with a cluster of small colored gems. His fingers brushed over it. Slowly, he brought it to his face, pressing it against his skin.
Was that there when I came past the first time?
Realization hit him like a slap. Pride shimmered in his expression… then quickly drowned beneath in sorrow. He masked it. Quickly. Efficiently. He doesn't like to show emotion. Who am I to judge? I'm the same way.
"I know your mother had this made," he said.
I stayed quiet. I wanted to hear every word.
"You don't know what this is, do you?" he asked softly. "Only mages can craft magical items like this. And yet…" He shook his head.
It's magic sir, better yet based on memories that's either a tool or an item. I'm still a bit confused on which is which since Rena was only giving a rough course years ago.
"Your mother was a genius. She improved a magical formula that combined transportation magic with spatial displacement and made it more stable, less risk, less injuries.She found the stones, studied the resonance, sourced the gems herself—and high chance taught some idiot how to forge the enchantment for her. I should've realized sooner. This place… this entire area… it's outside of the Empire's magical detection range."
So we were living outside the empire? Unable to be detected? Who was Mom trying to hide from? What was her goal of running away?
I stared at him, slack-jawed.
Mixing two magic types? Mother always says how controlling and mastering one magic type was difficult to do. Even seasoned mages struggled with fusion spells, and crafting magical artifacts required intense mana precision, for the first few years if not decades of their magic journey.
She did it all without magic. Just knowledge. Just willpower. Her own talents, own merits. And convincing someone with magic to put it all together.
I knew… Rena knew our mother was an manaless genius. Her as a person was undervalued, she was an inventor; an expert craftsmen. Yet still, that sounds impossible to do for a person with no mana.
He returned the enchanted item to where he found it, reverently, as if placing a relic back on its altar. I led him the rest of the way in silence, through the wild untamed greenery to the cabin where I had lived my entire life.
His expression shifted again—disgust this time. His eyes scanned the warped roof, the patched walls, the collapsing front steps. I said nothing.
It's a lot ragged mostly because of time, no real supplies, and little to no man power to fix the whole cabin. It needs demolition to be rebuilt. But this is where we lived for years. Grew up, learned to walk, talk, craft, etc. with my mom. Gentle, sweet and loving.
Words would only stir up emotion, and we were both running low on strength. He stepped carefully through the cabin, inspecting everything with a calculating stare. Eventually, he pushed open the back door and stepped outside.
I should stop him before he gets back there. Before he sees.. before the question comes out. Before the memory completely surfaces.
I knew what was back there. I ran, feet slipping in the wet grass, I don't want to talk about what's back there. But I was too late.
He stood frozen, eyes locked on the small patch of fresh dirt in the corner of the backyard. A ring of wildflowers had been carefully planted around the grave. A wooden plaque stood at its head, beautifully carved despite the lack of tools:
Beloved Mother. Kind. brilliant. resilient.
"Did you bury her?" he asked.
I said nothing. Couldn't. The silence stretched long enough to hurt. When he turned to look at me, his eyes glistened. Grief met mine. We didn't need words. My tears answered for me, trailing quietly down my cheeks.
I too am lost in a sea of unspoken heartbreak. Rena pain of having a deceased mother. The only parent she had the chance to be around. To hug her, hold her, raise her. The only human being rena has ever been around. Gone.
Lost. so very lost.
Then I asked, voice trembling but firm, "Are you going to get me in?" Switching the conversation. from the expression on his face neither does he not right now. Not the talk of when and how she died. My stomach is starting to get a bit queasy. I take in a deep breath before I slowly let it out.
We need to cut this depressing tension. I can't handle Rena's memories. It is not only stirring her depression but mines as well. I don't want to vomit.
His jaw flexed. "Can I get you in?" he repeated. "Yes." A pause. "Should I? No."
That cut the tension.
His voice was sharper now, protective. "Acreon isn't a safe place for people without money or power. It's not a school—it's a battlefield in disguise. And you—" He took a step forward. "—do you even know if you can use magic?"
I clenched my fists. "No. But I can learn. And if you won't help me—then I'll find another way."What else will I do? Will he let me live a magicless spoiled life? Do I want to?
His expression was unreadable. But I saw it again—that flicker of emotion. Regret. Something more. Maybe he wouldn't say it out loud. But he knew. He owed us this. My mom. Rena; Me.
"I know I have mana within me. Mom told me—since I am your daughter, since I came from a strong, fantastically talented Magic Knight—she had no doubt that you blessed me with the great bloodline that you have. If you can wholeheartedly believe I'm your daughter based on her words… So can I. I believe her words too." I mumbled through gritted teeth.
Rena never once showed doubt in her mother's words. So I took will trust in her words. But her intentions for one are not sure.
He smirked at my theory. "So your mother didn't tell you everything about her life," he said quietly. "She wouldn't want you to go there. Especially after everything she went through. She hated that place. She also got bored after a while."
Not much she talked about where she grew up poor with no magic. It was hard, many doubted her talents, snuffed at her. She mostly talks about her love life with dad, their adventures, lovers' spats. She made it sound so magical.
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied my face. "You look just like her," he whispered, the edge in his voice softening. He must have really lobved her.
Then why did she run? Why didn't she tell him about the pregnancy? Where's our happy rich family?
One day… Maybe I'll be strong enough to ask him to share those memories. The ones I don't have. The ones that broke them. Separated them.
From the stories mother gave me, and from the look in his eyes, it seemed like they had something beautiful once. What went wrong? Clearly, they longed for each other—Mother would often stare into the distance when she spoke of him.
"I don't want you going to that place," he said finally. "I fear what you might try to do to get there—and what might happen after you do. And what others would try."
I wonder if we're going to have a story time as to why?
He paused, silent for a long moment. Maybe he was thinking about how he lost his love, and now his newly discovered daughter was threatening to leave too. I wasn't trying to make him feel like this was a double-loss situation. I just… I needed something. We need something…. We need to know just in case how to survive on our own here.
"I know I can't change your mind. Open enrollment isn't available yet. You still have sixty days left until then. Are you sure?" he asked gently, reaching up to wipe the remaining tears from my cheeks.
"No. But I feel like I should experience it" I whispered.
Attending a magic college sounds like the route to go. Who knows, maybe I might discover something about my parents. Why our family ended how it did.
He let out a long breath. "Fine. But in the meantime, you'll live with me. I'll have your mana activated, and I'll find you a tutor. Even though it's a magic school that claims to teach the basics, most of the teachers are biased—and that's putting it nicely."
Mom said he was a lot more stubborn than this. He gave it rather easily.
The thought of moving into his mansion—big and luxurious—made my stomach drop. I didn't even want to imagine how lavish and comfortable his life had been. If I wanted to get into Acreon, I couldn't afford to blame him for everything, I know he can't blame me, he tried to search and see if mother could have stayed or said something; if she didn't run away. Where would we be now?. Still, I found myself searching for reasons to stay angry. So I don't have to form that connection. So he doesn't have to feel like he's forced to play father.That's why I told him: get me into the school and you'll never have to see me again.
But now? I wasn't so sure anymore.
I thought mother was wrong about father. I expected him to be like one of those stuck-up nobles—disgusted with the appearance of a random daughter from the woods. But instead, he was… soft. She was right.
It's unexpectedly expected. I hope this isn't false hope for a parental relationship. If he knew that I was in Rena's body, would he still claim me as his?
Soft toward my existence. "Okay," I said, voice small but certain.
It was a yes to both things. To Acreon, to give him a chance to be a father. For Rena. For us.
Another chance. For the both of us. To live once again.
The carriage ride was long and silent. I didn't know what I expected from a man like him—cold detachment? A barrage of questions? Instead, he said nothing. Just sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window, jaw set like stone. I didn't mind the silence. I needed it too.
I wonder who he was speaking to through that crystal ball? And what was he saying?
When the carriage finally rolled to a stop, my jaw nearly dropped.His estate wasn't a mansion—it was a damn castle.
I thought I lived nicely back in modern times.Were royalty.
White stone walls draped with green ivy, glass-paneled towers, and a massive iron gate guarded by glowing glyphs. The crest on the front gate shimmered in the setting sun: a roaring beastly fox engulfed in wind and surrounded by vines.
Our family sigil, I'm assuming.
"I don't belong here," I muttered under my breath.
"You will," he said without looking back.
Guards opened the gate before we could even step out. A woman in a fitted grey uniform greeted him with a deep bow, her eyes flickering over to me with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism.
"This is my daughter. Prepare her room in the east wing, as instructed." he said flatly.
Rena you were kept away from all this. You have got to be a little upset with mom. I know I am.
I wanted to shrink under their stares. But I lifted my chin instead. If I was going to enter Acreon, I had to learn to carry myself like someone who belonged. Inside, everything was warm gold and polished woods. The kind of place where silence echoed, and every step felt like it needed permission. Servants moved like ghosts, efficient and quiet. Some nodded in greeting. Others stared too long. I didn't blame them.
I didn't look like I belonged. Not in my patched cloak and boots crusted in forest dirt. My room was bigger than our entire cabin back in the woods.
Then again my old place was bigger than that cabin…..Shit! This place is bigger than my old condo. This is a castle.... A whole kingdom of it's own.
A fireplace already roared to life. Fresh towels and robes were folded neatly on a velvet bench. A steaming tub sat in the corner, herbs floating in the water.
If I am to call this home, I need to get used to this. Butlers, maids, chefs… all of it.
"Someone will bring you dinner shortly," the woman in grey said before exiting.
"Thank you" I said as she bowed, closing the doors behind her.
I was expecting more push back from the servants. Like someone obviously showing their dislike that I am here. Or the suspension of my existence.
I sank onto the bed. The mattress nearly swallowed me whole. This was going to be harder than I thought. The maid leaves after informing me that a nice hot bath has just been drawn, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
This is not the hard springy mattress that you had Rena. This is an amazing life sleep on slink clouds.
"I have these, just so you know," he said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. In his hand were the magical tools—two of them. He must've taken both from the forest.
He took them? So does that mean no going back? Not that I was planning it.
"They were both used to coming and going without detection," he explained, voice calm but firm. "I don't want someone to accidentally stumble upon the place again. And more importantly…" He hesitated, avoiding my eyes. "I don't want you using them to leave."
I blinked, surprised at the way his voice dropped—like the idea of me running off again hurt more than he wanted to admit.
"You asked how I was. I turned twenty-three today. And no I don't want a weird party or gift please. I think I'm feeling a little thankful enough right now" I said, casting my eyes all over this bedroom.
"If you need anything," he added, "let me know." And just like that, he was gone again.
He's worried…. I am not going to get up and run away. Well if I wanted to I can't mom probably sealed that fate. I wonder how he feels about all this?– He's putting his best foot forward. I think we're both going to be learning and trying to figure this out together. But one thing , I believe what Mom said, we can trust him, he'll protect us.
I turned back toward the massive room. It was hard to believe this was called a room. It's a wing, Everything about it felt intentional—thoughtful. The canopied bed with its soft white veil, the towering bookshelves, the ornate mirror framed with carved moons and stars.
Did he have this prepared in such a short amount of time? How? It's a girly but breathtaking fit for a spoiled princess. This is mine… ours… Rena this is how we're going to be living now.
This wasn't just a spare room. It felt… prepared. Like it had been waiting for someone. For me maybe. I thought back to the carriage. He had been standing at the forest's edge for a long time. Too long for just collecting magical tools. He was doing something else—getting this place ready. I wandered toward the door leading into the bathroom. As it opened, steam rushed out in a soft wave.
Either way the preparation time was too short to pull this much detail. This much furniture, this much attention and love. It makes my heart melt.
The bathroom was larger than our entire cabin. But what isn't here?
Marble floors. Scented candles flickering in crystal holders. A sunken tub filled with water and soft floating herbs. It smelled like jasmine and mint. Towels were stacked in neat triangles, and a long silk robe hung on a hook nearby.
It felt unreal. Too luxurious for someone like me. And yet… here I was. I dipped my fingers into the water. Warm. Not too hot. The herbs swirled lazily around my skin, releasing more of that calming scent. I peeled off the rags I had worn for what felt like a lifetime and slipped into the bath.The heat soaked into my bones, and I felt the grime, the tension, the fear—all dissolve into the water. I leaned back, eyes half-closed, staring at the gilded ceiling with its soft glowing lights shaped like stars.
I can stay here forever. Who needs school or an education.
For the first time in years, I let myself relax. I think I can get used to this. As I leaned back, eyes half-closed, something caught my attention near the edge of the tub—a large white gem embedded into the marble, glowing faintly with a magical hum. Around its base were two smaller stones: one a deep crimson red, the other a pale, glimmering blue.
Symbols were etched into the surface around them. Red – Fire. Blue – Water.
They weren't just for show. The blue stone controlled the flow of water into the tub, and the red one heated it to the perfect temperature. The white gem in the center was the conduit, channeling the magic and maintaining balance. So this is how they really lived.
The realness of this sinks the more everything matches up. Magic .. mana… wizards, magicians. This is truly happening.
I stared at the stones, wondering how many nobles bathed like this every day, never knowing what it was like to carry buckets of freezing stream water into a cracked metal basin.
And yet here I was.
Floating in warmth and silence, letting the heat soak into my bones. I thought I would cry again. But I didn't. I just floated.
Not Joleen. Not even Rena.
Just... me.
Getting out of that amazing bath, I grab the robe that was thoughtfully laid out for me. I exit the bathroom and walk toward my bed, where I find a purplish-red nightgown carefully folded with a note beside it that reads: "If you would like help changing, ring." I crumple the note up and toss it straight into the trash.
Help me dress? What do I need help getting dressed for? Is this a rich people thing? I'm sure the servants would rather do anything else than to weigh on me.
Slipping on the nightgown, I'm surprised—it doesn't scratch or rub my skin. That's a feeling she has grown used to. Cheap fabric always left Rena itching. I walk over to the fireplace. At the cabin, mother and Rena had to scavenge for firewood, then strike flint to spark a flame. Now here, warmth simply waits for me.
A knock at the door interrupts my drifting thoughts.
"Come in," I called.
The door opens to reveal a man with short red hair, wearing a crisp butler uniform and a grin too wide to be real.
"Good evening, Miss," he says. "I'm happy I caught you before you went to sleep. It's nice to formally meet you. My name is Sabastian, The Head Butler of the estate. Feel free to come to me with any questions or concerns."
He seems rather young. Sabastian was it, I wonder how long he's been working here? He has the eyes of a crook… or was that a mistake?
He bows low, extending his hand toward me. I place mine into his— Pierce. I yank my hand back instantly. A sharp sting. A single drop of blood blooms in the center of my palm.
He stabbed me. With a needle? Why? Was it on my dad's behalf? Is he a spy or some sort? Why is he acting so nonchalant? He did this on purpose…
Sabastian remains bowed, but slowly lifts his head. His expression freezes as soon as his eyes lock onto mine. "Wow. I see you…" he begins, but before he can finish the sentence.
— Smack.
I slap him, full force, with the palm he pricked. The unwarranted disrespect. His eyes widen in disbelief as he covers his cheek.The corner of his mouth was split as well as now a spot of blood stains his cheek.
Why would the head butler daringly cause harm to his boss's daughter? Does he not see me as the daughter? Was hitting him going too far? Why did I have that strong urge to hit him? Deserve or not I can't just be hitting people.
"Get out," I say coldly.
He bows again, but I catch the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaves.
He did this on purpose…. I'm not sure if this is Rena or me. I want to find him and fuck him up. The sneaky little weasel.
Still stunned, I headed to the balcony, needing air. I drop into one of the cushioned chairs and stare at the small wound on my hand.
What the hell was that? Did father put him up to it? I just got here. It's only been a few hours, I'm really going to be questioning my father's intentions and motives my whole journey here?
This is my father's house, after all. Maybe it was a test. Maybe he needed proof. There are women who lie about paternity—maybe he's been burned before. If that's the case why not ask before bringing me here.
I was a fool to think he wouldn't second guess. Many have probably approved it as a chance for a free luxury life or to manipulate him. He has a right to question my birth, the smooth sailing just felt too good.
That night, I tossed and turned with nightmares. Dreams of betrayal, of lies, of my parents' past. Mother never gave me her full story. She taught me how to survive and shared stories that made her eyes shine—but never the full truth.
What if this was the part she kept from me? How am I not truly his daughter? It seems even more evident that I probably shouldn't tell him that I'm from another world and took over his daughter. The same daughter that he's just now finding out about.
When I wake the next morning, I feel drained. Haunted. I trudge into my spa-like bathroom and draw another bath. While waiting, I walk to the row of bottles and jars—soaps, oils, herbs. I picked two: one lavender, one citrus. Their scents mix beautifully.
While searching for towels, I find a closet filled with robes—robes of every color and design. "How many robes does one person need?" I mutter.
After another soak in paradise, I dress quickly. I need to find Father and talk about Sabastian. But his office proves harder to locate than I thought. I wander past guest rooms, bedrooms, the kitchen, a boardroom-looking office, a supply room, more bedrooms… and one mysterious door that leads down to what I think is a basement—or a dungeon. I don't go in.
Is that where they keep the prisoners? Do they even use it?
I pass several servants but don't ask for directions. Stubborn pride. Eventually, I stumbled into the infirmary. I'm about to walk past when I spot Sabastian lying on one of the beds—shirtless, his chest wrapped in bandages.
"What happened to you?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.
I am slightly pleased at the sight. Was this his karma?
Sabastian looks up with that same fake smile. "Miss, I'm honored you came to visit," he says. "I can't apologize enough My Lady"
"I didn't. I was just being nosy. Where's my father?"
So he feels bad? I'm rolling my eyes.
He hesitates, then "I truly am sorry about my stunt, Miss. As you can see… your father didn't like it either."
My father did that? He did a number on him.
I say nothing. Let him keep talking. His face shifts—guilt, pain, maybe something deeper.
"There've been people before…Rumors… people who lied about being his child or finding you. People have lied and say they discovered your mother. One even created a magical puppet just to get close to him. He may never admit this, but when your mother left… something in him broke. I just wanted to make sure you were real. Not another possibility."
So others have tried maternity fraud. People will do the most screwed diabolical thing to get ahead. Poor dad, so did he know mom was pregnant? Or was there a false hope that she was and it kept him going?
I let his words hang. I never thought of the staff reactions or past traumas…. I more so thought they wouldn't accept a forest living nobody like me. Forced to take care of hand and foot.
"And… what was the answer?" I ask, blunt as ever.
"You're his," he says softly. "Everyone knows"
I inhale slowly, trying to temper the rising swirl of emotions. "I don't forgive you," I say, voice cool. "Because of you, I doubted my mother. I doubted my own truth and I became a fool. And besides if asked i would have given you … if he asked I would have given my blood"
We are his child Rena. We have a loving father. I understand his loyalty to my father but the stunt was sketchy, rude and disrespectful. This is day one …. Day two and I'm getting DNA tested.
His face crumples in shame. "You won't forgive easily," he whispers. "I understand. I never meant to make you question your parents. I only wanted to protect the Duke. I almost caused more harm than good. I'm lucky to be alive." He winces and places a hand gently over the bandages on his chest.
If I show pity he'll probably milk it. He seems like that type. He does look guilty, he has to earn my trust now …. Or wait until I forget about it.
"You know, Princess," he began, his voice low but steady, "there will be many times when you'll have to put people in their place. Many will look down on you if they don't fear you. They won't respect you if they don't fear you. That's how this society often works."
He shifted slightly, wincing, but his gaze stayed locked on mine. "Not many give—or accept—kindness without some underhanded reason. Be it me, or any other servant, even all nobles who rank lower than you… do not hesitate to put them in their place."
So he's happy that I assaulted him? This is those older times eighteen hundreds I believe the rich did often beat the poor and lower class people as a form of discipline.
I tilted my head, arching a brow at him. "So you're not upset that I smacked you?"
I am happy he's alive. He must be really crazy or extremely loyal if he knew his stunt was going to get him put here by dad.
His lips curled into a faint, amused smile. "No, my lady. I was a fool who tried to slight his master. You did it right."
I leaned back in my chair, studying him for a long moment before giving a slow nod. "I'll keep that in mind," I said, a hint of a smirk tugging at my lips.
"See that you do," he replied, eyes glinting with something between respect and pride.
I closed my book, tucking it under my arm as I stood. "Thank you for the hierarchy advice, Sabatian."
He gave a shallow bow from his pillows. "Anytime, Princess."
I took a step toward the door but paused, glancing back at him. "One more thing," I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Why did you call me 'princess'? I'm not—"
Is he trying to be a sarcastic jackass? Is he saying princess in terms of me being a spoiled rich kid.
"In this land," Sabatian interrupted gently, "the one your family owns… the land your father owns… you are our princess."
I blinked, unsure if I'd believe it.
I thought princesses were only meant for the daughter of a king.
He sat up a little straighter despite the wince it caused him, his tone firm but reverent. "The Nowrk name carries weight. We—those of us who live under it—recognize it. And if you haven't yet read up on your family lineage… you should. Your family's history here, let alone in the whole empire, is long and… formidable. In more ways than one, the Nowrk name rivals the crown itself."
I stared at him, the words heavy and strange in my ears. "Rival the crown?" I repeated slowly.
So we're like big ballers. Like we're rich rich….. obviously.
A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. "In more ways than you realize, my lady. To the people here, you are not just your father's daughter—you are part of a legacy."
I felt something tighten in my chest. Not fear, exactly. Not pride either. Something in between.
Last time I had anything to do with family legacy was back in my world. When my father wanted me to follow in his footsteps and I walked away from it. And we didn't speak for years.
"When you leave, make a left, then another left, then a right. There'll be stairs. The Duke's office is up there."
I turn to go.
"And, Miss…" he calls behind me, "we're truly happy to have you here. I hope… one day, I can earn your trust."
I followed Sabastian's directions through the winding halls, eventually reaching the heavy double doors of my father's office. I heard his voice from within—low, composed—so I pushed them open.
He sat behind an enormous desk, the morning sun streaming through the tall windows behind him, casting a soft glow on the papers scattered before him. A commanding aura filled the room, like he belonged there more than the furniture did.
"Good morning," I said, stepping inside with more confidence than I felt. "Are you having breakfast this morning?"
I would love to have a nice daddy daughter meal together. Plus I still need to have a discussion about Sabatian, his stunt and dad putting him in the hospital. There are other ways to hold your employees accountable.
His eyes lifted from his work, amused by my interruption.
"I'm curious to see how a famous duke feasts," I added, eyeing one of the regal chairs positioned in front of his desk before casually sitting in it. He smiled at the invitation.
Without a word, he closed the folder in front of him and returned the feathered pen to its holder. Standing, he came around the desk and extended his arm toward me. I jumped up and confidently looped my arm through his. As we walked, passing towering portraits and ornate tapestries that lined the hallway, I broke the silence. "I saw what happened to Sabastian."
I saw the damage after you kicked his ass. He look like a wounded soldier.
He arched his brow. "Are you upset about what I did?"
"No," I answered honestly thinking back on what Sabatian said. "He stepped out of line… I Agree with the anger. Besides, I hit him too. I didn't almost kill him though" I chuckled.
He chuckled, interrupting, "I was expecting a lecture for a moment."
I grinned. "However, it was a bit extreme. I'm glad he's not dead. Bandaged pretty badly, though. We shouldn't be out here abusing people, father. Your temper should be watched, you know. We can't always strike when in wrath….. besides you don't want to be known as a tyrant." I chuckled half seriously.
Lower classes can have an uprising trying to overthrow the tyrant duke. We can't have our own people coming after our heads.
"Sabatian is very competent at what he does. And he's loyal to a fault. So loyal it will get him killed... and besides I am already known as a tyrant." he joked that ended in him rolling his eyes.
I'm not sure if I have a comment for that…. Is it good to really be known as a tyrant? As for Sabatian that is an insane loyalty or strong loyalty.
"Do you often put others who misbehave in the infirmary struggling for life as their misdeed flashes them by." I pause for a second thinking b on how nobles really often abuse their workers.
That made him laugh—a real one, deep and rough, echoing slightly off the stone walls. It caught me off guard. His exterior was so disciplined, so controlled, I hadn't expected humor to break through so easily. " If they deserve it, yes…. I ask that you leave those gruesome punishments to me…So when can we celebrate your birthday?" he said heartily. But I can see the slight excitement behind his voice.
"Next year when my birthday comes around again. You can throw the ball of the century" I joked.
I don't feel comfortable celebrating Rena's birthday on the day that I died and taking over her body.
He grumbled rolling his eyes as he defeatedly agreed. We go back to Sabastian. We kept walking, the conversation light but layered with meaning.like his big plans for my … our twenty fourth birthday. How he wants to make the estate not only be my home but also feel like home. I asked how he found out about the stunt. He said one of the estate physicians accidentally handed him a letter—thinking it was his. When he opened it and saw the paternity test, he demanded to know who had submitted it.
I can see he's cautious, trying hard to be subtle to bridge the gap between us. I think even he knows he missed many years of Rena's life. He probably doesn't want to ruin it.
"Sabastian admitted it was him?" I yelped. My father nods confirming my suspension. I didn't think he'd tell the truth.
Bold. He has my respect. Originally I was coming to snitch…. Well before I found out he was going to dismember Sabatian.
"And I hit him with a full-force strike," my father said, almost casually. "He's lucky to be alive….Though his defense magic is top-tier." he paused to appreciate Sabatian survival skills.
I wonder if his intentions were to kill or did he already know Sabatian was going to survive it? Could be both.
We both laughed at that—at Sabastian's bold stupidity, loyalty and the fact that somehow, it hadn't cost him his life. As awful as it was, it felt good to laugh with him. Natural, even. Soon we reached the dining hall. He walked me past a long row of chairs, all lined with perfectly folded napkins and polished silverware, then pulled out a seat near the end of the table for me. When I sat, he took the seat at the head—right beside mine.
"Sir, Miss—we were just preparing to bring your meals," a maid stammered, startled to see us. Apparently, he didn't eat here often…. Well just judging from her reaction.
She disappeared and quickly returned with a small cart stacked with covered dishes. Another maid followed with a second cart. They placed the cloches before us and began lifting the lids one by one, revealing a royal spread: warm bread rolls, golden jams, cheeses, roasted sausages, soft-boiled eggs, thin-sliced ham, something that might have been oatmeal—but richer—and even a grilled trout, perfectly cooked.
"Fish?" I muttered under my breath, caught off guard by the elegant display.
Now I never had fish for breakfast. It smells really tasty….. I don't even think Rena ate fish for breakfast.
"Yes, eat. Feast. We need to get some fat on your bones" he joked watching one of the maids open the curtains to let sunshine in.
Rena is a bit smaller than your average young adult , just a little malnutrition only because food was scarce.
The maids added fresh-cut fruit and poured drinks—coffee for him, juice for me—before bowing and leaving us to our meal. As we ate, my mind wandered back to Acreon.
Was it really the right choice? A spoiled rich life is nice. I can get used to this fast. Really fast.
If I didn't go, I could stay here. Learn from private tutors. Avoid the noble drama. Live in safety and luxury. But something tugged at me. The desire to explore, to grow, to live beyond these walls. I'd been in that cabin for so long. Maybe Acreon was more than just a school—it could be the key to understanding my mother and father's past.
What will I experience going there? Rena thought the idea was cool from the stories… I don't have to stay for five years. Mother didn't even stay long. And all she told me was the vast knowledge and magic experience she had. Also she said she met father there too.
He must've sensed my thoughts drifting. "Let me know when you're free," he said between sips of coffee, "so I can do your awakening."
I nearly choked. "What?"
I can't wait! I hope I am not taking too much of his time. Don't dukes have paper work or meetings to do? He was going through some things when I walked in.
"I wouldn't trust any mage near your mana," he said flatly.
"Your mana is your life force. One wrong move, one reckless casting—and you could die. Or even try to dig for information"
He wasn't wrong. Mom had warned me too: the awakening process was like shocking your mana awake, opening the pathways that allowed magic to flow through your body. If done improperly—if left open—it could drain your life completely. Some mages didn't survive. Some were left broken.
Mana is your life force. It's you. Mom once told Rena someone touching your mana is like them reading and gazing into your soul.
And here I was, ready to walk into Acreon and ask a total stranger to help me unlock mine. Reckless.But still. "Can we do it today?" I asked, excitement spilling out in my voice.
He looked over his mug, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. "Let me finish my paperwork," he said, standing up and placing a gentle kiss on top of my head. "I'll be ready by lunch." He heads back to his office.
"Could someone show me back to my room?" I voiced happily kicking my feet while sipping my chocolate.
I get to learn magic. Use mana. Like in movies. Something similar to Alchemy.
"Yes Miss right away." A small voice spoke.