***(Renian's POV)***

As wide as these corridors are, I find them incredibly suffocating. No, it's not the corridors. Ultimately, the building is not to blame. The people who live there are suffocating, the pure and simple representation of an antiquated, unjust, and decadent belief.

Perhaps this is a thought unique to me since I come from a world where civilization is much more advanced. The past has always fascinated: knights and nobles, wars and sword duels, the hero and the villain. They are all stories written for the pleasure of entertaining themselves and others. But very little of what is written fully shows the disgusting reality behind the mask of nobility. It would only scare away a potential reader.

«What are you laughing at, Sidrie?»

«Nothing in particular.» Sidrie replied cheerfully «It's simply strange to see you wearing such formal clothes, Master Renian.»

I stopped and looked towards a window, catching the reflection of my image with my eyes: a blue jacket with a white shirt, black trousers, and my hair had been combed carefully, while makeup hid my dark circles. I sighed heavily and continued on my way.

«Master Renian?»

«Hurry up, Sidrie.» I ordered, starting to walk again

I became aware of myself 8 years ago. My name is Renian Flinne now, the third son of Duke Flinne. No special abilities, a simple child with normal learning abilities. Nothing sensational compared to his twin sister, the genius of the Flinne family.

I wanted to maintain that profile, if not worsen it and the reality I find myself in now is the result of my choice. Seeing my apparent uselessness, I began to receive less and less attention and my apathy led my mother to hide me as the disgrace of the family, my older brothers did not consider me and my sister used me to relieve some stress. Since I never leave my room, that brat thinks I'm afraid of her, but since she doesn't want to get dusty, she lets off steam during practical fencing lessons.

My father, on the other hand, doesn't care much about me. He is loving to other family members and only remembers my existence when it suits him. For the rest he ignores me.

We passed by two waitresses while I was absorbed in my thoughts. A few steps later I heard them giggling

«The Attic Mouse has left the room.»

«He doesn't even feel a little remorse for how he tarnishes the name of his good family?»

«Mice don't know what remorse is.»

The further I moved away, the more severe the insults became. In the end, I am the source of gossip inside the villa: the "Attic Mouse". The useless son who locks himself in the dusty attic without feeling even a bit of shame for his person. Let them talk too.

«He-»

«There's no need to get angry Sidrie» I stated turning towards her «Let them tell what they want.»

«But, Master Renian!» Sidrie exclaimed «You won't care, but I can't shut my ears to these malicious comments.»

Ashen skin, an athletic, well-proportioned body, silver hair pulled back in a ponytail, and red eyes that were confident and worried about me at the same time. The only dark elf I know and the only person in this whole damn mansion who cares about me. Or at least, that's what she wants me to believe. She has always treated me with respect and she has given me affection that I have never received from anyone else. But it is in my nature not to trust those who are "socially" inferior to me... or at least, this is my philosophy in this corrupt world. She may be sincere in her actions, but I can't help but distrust her too.

«Your thought makes me happy.» I stated smiling «But I would be happy if you used that energy for something else.»

«For example?»

«Your clumsiness?»

«I'm not clumsy!»

Even though she always tries to refuse it, she's a disaster when it comes to the jobs and duties of a waitress but no one can deny, me first, the effort she puts into it.

«We have already wasted enough time. My mother is not known for her patience.»

It took another couple of minutes before we reached the garden.

The villa includes three gardens, the entrance one, the western one, and the southern one. All are beautiful and well cared for but the variety of plants and flowers that grow there are as different as the seasons, in the case of the western and southern ones, in which they are used.

The southern one is considered warmer, but in reality, this is due to the greenhouse that stands there, where the internal temperature is controlled thanks to magical instruments and therefore used as a meeting place during the winter season or in any case when it is colder. The interior is not very large because it is mainly occupied by the plants and flowers grown there, consequently, it is used in winter for private parties with selected and special guests.

The western garden, however, is a real park, with various burceaus, fountains, a hedge maze, and a small theatre. Here mainly flowers are grown and some fruit trees such as cherry, orange, apple trees and others whose flowers are particularly appreciated in high society. Of course, touching them is prohibited for anyone other than the owner of the house and his family, and servants need their express permission to pick them. I'm the exception to the rule, as I can't touch them either but honestly speaking, I don't care that much.

Greeted by the blinding light of the summer sun, I instinctively covered my eyes with my hand. It's been a long time since I left the building and I admit, I missed the feeling of the sun on my skin, relieved by occasional breezes of fresh wind or the scent of the flowers it carries.

At one of the most luxurious Berceaus, there is a table at which three women are sitting, intent on drinking tea. Not far away, various servants and maids are waiting for orders from their mistresses or certainly ready to act if their cup is empty.

I stopped just outside the berceau, Sidrie behind me.

«Mother, I am here as requested.» I spoke in a firm voice

I didn't get any response. None of the women uttered a word towards me, as they were still busy talking happily to each other. Sigh, how annoying. I thought, sighing. The sun is hot and although these clothes are light, I was sweating profusely and my throat was starting to feel dry. I don't know how much time passed, but my mother finally noticed me.

«Oh! Renian, you're late.» the woman stated

My mother, technically speaking is the oldest woman of the three. Even though she is around 50 years old, her body is still sensual, while her face is youthful, with white, well-groomed skin, and the wrinkles on her face are imperceptible. Her long dark brown curly hair with some white hair is gathered in an intricate hairstyle held in place by precious hair accessories. Her blue eyes looked at me with coldness and exasperation. She is wearing a light-toned dress, luxurious but at the same time light.

«Besides, how can you show up like this when we have guests? You are truly disgraceful.»

Fuck you, ugly witch. «I'm sorry, mother.»

«You should. Come ahead.»

As requested I entered the berceau and approached the guest. A beautiful girl with dark, wavy, long hair is also adorned with hair accessories and purple eyes. Her body gives the impression of being fragile and her breasts developing. She is wearing a light blue dress, much more modest than my mother's.

Placing my hand over my heart I bowed slightly.

«I welcome you in home Flinne, Lady Joetta Coleger,» I greeted politely. «I hope you had a good trip.»

«Thank you for the welcome Renian.» Joetta replied, holding out her hand. I gently took her hand and kissed it, as befits etiquette. «The reason for my visit was you. After all, tomorrow is my fiancé's 14th birthday.» she stated with a sweet expression but one that hides a hint of mockery

Joetta Coleger, eldest daughter of the Coleger house and current heir. The Colegers are a house of Counts who have always served the kingdom as ministers of justice with honor and merit, for this reason, they are esteemed and above all feared by the entire nobility for being inflexible in the execution of justice. Since without a male heir, the Marquis accepted the betrothal proposal between me and his daughter, allowing the former to obtain a male heir and the latter greater influence, albeit minimal, in the royal faction of which my father is a member and fervent supporter.

Hmph. You didn't remember my birthday for 7 years and now you remember? «I'm happy. Thank you for your concern.» I stated, forcing a smile

«Let go of her hand.» the third person spoke imperatively «Don't infect her with your uselessness»

Malota Flinne, my twin sister born a few minutes after me. We are similar in appearance, her body is athletic and developing, her hair is very long light gray, and slightly wavy while her eyes are green. She is wearing a water-green dress, simple but very elegant.

From an early age, she proved to be a little genius. It took her a short time to master what she was taught but as time passed and the distance created between us she became arrogant, with a huge ego, and every time she always found a way to humiliate me. Or at least, that's what she believes. Her childish behavior isn't even worthy of my attention.

Joetta and Malotta are childhood friends, they get along very well but my sister doesn't like our engagement very much. Somehow, now and then she managed to get Joetta to participate in her tasteless pranks. Joetta is probably easily influenced but even so, I am neither her father nor her friend.

Your arrogance only gets worse. You're going to end up badly if you keep this up, you dirty bitch. I thought, leaving Joetta's hand

Before moving to the seat reserved for me, I noticed how Joetta was slightly sorry for the separation, but I didn't pay much attention to it. How can I believe that you have feelings for this guy?

My "seat" did not have any type of chair, the cup placed in front of me was of lower quality than those used by the other girls, not to mention the tea: my drink was dark and murky, unlike the bright color in the other cups. I took the cup and smelled the dark mixture, smelling a strong odor of grass. I wet my lips with the drink and felt a bitter and earthy taste in my mouth. Opening one eye slightly I noticed my sister's amused expression while Joetta's was a mixture of expectation and above all concern. My mother, instead, was sipping her tea.

I gulped down the drink made from who knows what plant in one gulp. It certainly tastes better than what I drank in my past life in extreme situations. I better prepare myself for possible intestinal pain.

I didn't have time to finish the thought and immediately my stomach began to rebel, causing very strong cramps. I didn't move, I didn't bend over, I clenched my fists and bit my lip to force myself not to give any kind of satisfaction, to the point of drawing blood.

Is that all you can do, you fucking bitches?

Emperor93

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