The morning sun kissed my face with a welcome warmth that felt utterly foreign. Insane.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so well—so deeply—without the gnawing anxiety of the streets or the cold dread of the wilderness. The mattress didn’t just support me; it seemed to cradle every aching muscle, the thick quilt a comforting weight rather than a flimsy barrier against the cold.

  The silence was the strangest part. No distant sirens, no rumble of a passing train; just the faint, gentle sound of birdsong from outside.

  That was a lie, of course. I remembered exactly… a lifetime ago.

  I had been tucked safely in my own bed, the scent of clean laundry in the air, the comforting weight of a heavy quilt, and my mother's soft voice a gentle murmur as she read me a story about a knight and his dragon companion. The memory, so vivid and sweet, was a sharp pang in my chest.

  I forcefully shoved it aside before it could fully form and sat up with a groan, massaging the bridge of my nose where the headache was fiercest.

  My warm foot-heater stretched languidly beside me on the ridiculously soft mattress, rolling from side to side with a soft thump.

  "Good morning," I said, my voice still thick with sleep.

  Pip stopped her rolling and looked up at me playfully, letting out a soft meow. I gave her extensive chin scratches, then moved behind the ears, then basically everywhere, until a polite, firm knock sounded at the door.

  My eye twitched in annoyance. Seriously? I haven’t even had my eyes open for two damn minutes.

  Sighing, I finally stood up properly and realized I was only wearing a pair of simple brown underwear. Oh. These weren't the ones I'd arrived in this world with… Where did my old ones go? Did they change me while I was unconscious?

  The thought was unsettling—another small violation in a long list of them. Ugh, I was really too tired to think about that right now.

  "Just a moment, please!" I called towards the door.

  Quickly, I grabbed the neatly folded clothes from the table – simple but well-made dark-grey pants, a plain linen shirt, and socks that had been tucked into the sturdy brown leather boots. I pulled everything on hastily. It all fit reasonably well; the boots were still a bit stiff, pinching slightly at the heel, but I knew leather adapted over time.

  Patience was key.

  After a vague attempt at smoothing the blankets on the massive bed, I opened the door. Conrad stood there, looking as impeccably dressed as ever in his crisp black uniform, not a single hair out of place.

  "Good morning, Majordomo," I said politely, inclining my head slightly as I'd seen him do.

  "Good morning, Grim," he replied, his tone neutral but polite. "Lady Ainsworth invites you to join her for breakfast. I see you've already tidied up a bit."

  He glanced past me into the room, his gaze briefly taking in the smoothed bedcovers.

  "If you would be so kind as to open the window for some fresh air, then we can proceed downstairs."

  I nodded and carefully pushed open the large casement window. A wave of cool, fragrant morning air streamed into the slightly stuffy room, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers. I took a deep, satisfying breath and turned back to Conrad.

  "Excuse the question, Majordomo," I began hesitantly, "but what about my cat? Is she allowed to come? And if so… would you perhaps have something I could give her to eat? I can work for it, of course," I added quickly, my old survival instincts kicking in. "I don't want anything for free. And please forgive all the questions. It's just… all of this is very unfamiliar, and it makes me a little nervous, honestly."

  Conrad nodded slightly, then waved a dismissive hand.

  "Lady Ainsworth has informed all household staff that you and the feline, Pip, are to be treated as guests for the time being. Therefore, she, like you, may roam the house freely—with the obvious exception of the private quarters of Lord and Lady Ainsworth, naturally. As for food for Pip, I will have something prepared in the kitchens at your request."

  I scratched the back of my head uncomfortably. The idea of being a "guest" felt wrong, like a poorly fitting shoe. I was a tool, a pawn, nothing more.

  "Could I perhaps still be helpful around the household somehow?" I asked, feeling awkward. "Honestly, I don't feel right just being waited on. It makes me feel... useless."

  Conrad’s usually placid expression flickered with genuine confusion.

  "Lady Ainsworth explained to us that you will be competing for the house in the tournament four years from now. Therefore, are you not already doing your part? Or do I misunderstand the arrangement?"

  I sighed, struggling for the right words to explain a lifetime of ingrained self-reliance.

  "I apologize in advance for my language, Majordomo," I started, trying to sound sincere, "but I just don't feel right sitting on my ass and being rewarded for it. My whole life, I've fought just for my own survival and my cat's. I don't want to just… take this hospitality for granted. Please, let me help. Whatever it is. Even if it's just sweeping the courtyard or watering flowers or… whatever needs doing. I want to contribute my share, work for my food and Pip's."

  Conrad looked taken aback for a moment, then he actually chuckled, a brief, dry sound.

  "Lady Ainsworth did mention you were a strange boy," he commented, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Very well. Since you have your first training session with Sir Crownfield today anyway, perhaps you could tell me directly what types of magic you can wield? Then I might be able to devise some tasks where you can use your magic both to assist the household and, perhaps, to consolidate your skills supplementary to Sir Crownfield's lessons."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Surprised, I looked up at him. That was… actually a wonderful idea. I’d used magic to water the fields and light the darkness, but I wasn't exactly practiced. How could I be?

  I felt genuinely pleased; it seemed Conrad was actually thinking about my request and taking me seriously, seeing me as more than just the Baron's new pet project. It was a chance to be useful, not just ornamental.

  "I can use Fire and Water magic," I explained. "Water Magic feels a bit more… stable, though."

  He raised a questioning eyebrow. "And what about the magic from yesterday? In the audience hall?"

  Flashes of memory surfaced—Kneel… or die… The crushing pressure, the vibrating air, the taste of blood in my mouth. A shiver ran down my spine just thinking about it.

  Honestly, looking back, I wasn't sure if that display was terrifyingly cool or just monumentally cringe-worthy. I shook my head vehemently.

  "I can't think of any household chore where that kind of magic would be useful," I admitted sheepishly. "Besides… I absolutely cannot control it."

  Conrad smiled slightly again, a knowing look in his eyes, then nodded. "Understood. Come, let us escort you and your companion to breakfast."

  A short time later, after collecting a very willing Pip, we were back down in the grand entrance hall. This time, Conrad led us towards the large double doors on the right. He opened them, revealing a vast, sunlit dining room.

  It was empty, however, except for a young man with curly blond hair carrying a silver tray laden with glistening fruits and steaming bread.

  "Good morning, Majordomo," the young man greeted Conrad politely. "Lady Ainsworth decided she wished to take breakfast in the gazebo this morning."

  He balanced the heavy tray with practiced ease, using his free hand to hold the door to the gardens open for Conrad.

  "Good morning, Theo. Thank you," Conrad replied, his voice even. "Should I take the tray out directly?"

  With a slight shake of his head, Theo indicated he would handle it. Conrad simply nodded curtly and proceeded outside into the morning light. As I approached, Theo held the door open for me as well, his eyes darting towards me for a brief, nervous moment before flicking away. He seemed almost afraid to make eye contact.

  "Thanks," I mumbled, stepping out with Pip trotting confidently at my heels.

  The air outside was glorious. The sun shone warmly on my skin, but the air itself was refreshingly cool and crisp, carrying the sweet scent of blooming roses and freshly cut grass from the manicured gardens. That was something I truly appreciated about this world… clean air, untainted by smog or exhaust fumes.

  About ten meters away stood a beautiful stone gazebo, its pillars entwined with flowering vines, a table already set with gleaming porcelain and silver. The spread was lavish: platters of sliced meats and cheeses, bowls of vibrant berries, a basket overflowing with pastries that still looked warm.

  What a place to have breakfast. The scene brought an involuntary grin to my face.

  But as my eyes focused on the figures already seated, the grin vanished.

  Lady Ainsworth sat elegantly on one side, looking radiant in the morning light. And opposite her… sat Lord Ainsworth, his face a mask of arrogant displeasure.

  Fuck.

  Sighing, I followed Conrad toward the gazebo. And then it hit me again. FUCK. Lady Ainsworth told me to apologize. Uh oh… what should I say? Panic started fluttering in my chest.

  ‘Good morning, Lord Ainsworth. Sorry I didn't manage to grind your disgusting face into the marble floor yesterday?’ Yeah, that'd go over well… I had to suppress a dark chuckle.

  ‘My sincerest apologies for the near-crushing. The raw, untamed magic just gets away from me sometimes.’ Even worse.

  Humility is a virtue, Grim, I reminded myself sternly. Don't screw this up. You owe Lady Ainsworth.

  As we reached the gazebo, Theo quickly darted forward with his silver tray, placing its contents expertly on the table among other dishes, then vanished back towards the house with a silent bow. Conrad watched him go, then announced with his own slight bow, "Lady Ainsworth, Lord Ainsworth. As requested, I bring Grim and Pip."

  Lord Ainsworth merely gave Conrad a curt, dismissive nod, not even looking at me. With that, Conrad discreetly withdrew, leaving me standing there alone before the nobles.

  Great.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, went down onto one knee as I had been commanded yesterday, and lowered my head respectfully. The cool stone felt hard beneath my knee. I spoke clearly, keeping my voice steady, addressing the Baron first this time.

  "Lord Ainsworth, Lady Ainsworth. I wish you a good morning. And… I humbly ask your forgiveness for the incident yesterday. My cat, Pip," I glanced towards her where she now sat patiently by my knee, "is the most important thing in my life. Seeing her threatened… I regret that I unfortunately lost control of my emotions."

  When I finished, Lord Ainsworth just sneered down at me, his expression dripping with disdain.

  "As much as I welcome that you greet me before my beloved wife," he said snidely, "I must still point out your blatant and unsatisfactory adherence to the necessary etiquette. Rank before gender, boy. Learn it, before you bring further shame upon our house."

  He paused, taking a delicate sip from a goblet.

  "And as for yesterday's incident… I am prepared to overlook it, if you prove that you are training seriously. As long as you do that," he continued, his eyes flicking towards Pip with undisguised distaste, "I will also tolerate that miserable beas—"

  Lord Ainsworth was abruptly cut off as Lady Ainsworth cleared her throat loudly, a sharp, clear sound in the morning air. She fixed him with a look that could freeze hell itself.

  Lord Ainsworth's eye twitched nervously. He cleared his own throat awkwardly and quickly corrected himself.

  "That is… as long as you pursue your training conscientiously, I shall also… tolerate… your… cat."

  He practically spat the word out.

  "Consider this a great privilege, boy, and an advance of trust you have certainly not earned. So, do well to remember it. Now, get up and sit down. I wish to finally begin my breakfast."

  I let out a silent breath of relief as Lady Ainsworth gave me a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Apparently, my forced apology was sufficient.

  "Thank you for your grace and understanding, Lord Ainsworth," I said, keeping my head slightly bowed as I stood.

  He just waved a dismissive hand and immediately began piling food onto his plate. Lady Ainsworth, however, gracefully gestured towards the empty chair beside her, which earned me another sideways glare from the Baron. Ignoring him, I quickly sat down.

  Just as I settled into the surprisingly comfortable chair, the young servant, Theo, returned once more. He placed a small metal bowl filled with finely chopped, glistening meat on the ground beside my chair.

  Theo glanced at me nervously and asked quietly, "Is this alright for the cat, sir? It's fresh chicken."

  Lord Ainsworth naturally sneered again, which I expertly ignored. I was actually a little surprised someone had thought of Pip. It was a small act, but in this house, any unsolicited kindness felt monumental.

  "Yes, absolutely," I replied gratefully. "Thank you very much."

  I gave him a slight nod. Theo seemed almost flustered by the direct thanks, gave a quick, jerky bow in return, and practically fled back towards the house again.

  Pip, who had been waiting almost impatiently by the bowl, looked up at me, licking her chops. Amused, I had to grin. I leaned down towards her and whispered, "You can eat, it's okay, Pip."

  She didn't need telling twice, immediately digging into the fresh chicken with gusto, her little purrs of contentment audible in the quiet morning.

  As I straightened up again, I noticed Lady Ainsworth watching me with a strange, thoughtful expression. When I met her gaze, wrinkling my brow slightly in question, she just smiled faintly and said softly…

  "You really are… a special boy, Grim…"