“I’m sorry,”

We’ve been standing here in our manor’s lavish events hall, where the service held earlier by the clergy was hosted. The pews and other funeral decorations were removed, leaving the hall quite spacious for our remaining guests. On the platform at the end of the hall, is the podium where Garth gave his eulogy. It is also where a portrait painting of our parents is displayed on the wall.

I was just admiring the artwork, staring at it fondly until Amelia disrupted my attention, “For what?”

“What I said about your brother. It was rude,” Amelia steps closer to me, “I understand if I possibly sabotaged the betrothal. I have insulted you and your family.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh.”

I returned my attention to the artwork. How is it so detailed is beyond my comprehension, it’s like a photograph of my past life. I doubt they have invented—

“But, nonetheless, let me express my deepest and sincerest apology to you and your brother—”

“Got it, yes, sure.”

As I was thinking, that painting must’ve been commissioned in the city. I wonder which highborn ass Barth had to kiss to get in contact with such a master painte—

“Lord Arys, have I offended you because I will compensate in any form you—”

“No, don’t worry.” I glance back at the masterpiece, I think if I can find a painter who creates detailed portraits then maybe finding out about my real father and his adventures will be easy to trace bac—

“What a magnificent painting!” with enthusiasm, she exclaims.

I quickly turn to look at her, “Splendid isn’t it?”

“Splendid it is. So much so that you are willing to ignore a Lady for it.”

Indeed, I didn’t want to have a conversation, “I’m sorry. I am distracted by its details.”

She perks her face with interest, “Details? Are you an admirer of art?”

“I think. Manga is a type of art, right?”

“Manga?”

I hastily wave my hands, I don’t want her to think I am a weirdo “No, no. I meant… Man is a type of art…?”

“I guess so? Do you like men, Lord Arys?”

“What, no, no. Nor do I have a certain dislike for those who do or do not, I simply don’t care either way.” I try to defend myself, in the past life, I would’ve been canceled.

“Well, society has evolved in a way where we are free to explore our liberties.” She tries to lecture me, “Thanks for our advancements in understanding ethics and—”

“I completely understand. Thank you.”

“Very well.”

Again, we stopped talking and the silence slowly cut through me. I let out a sigh, “D-do you like men, Amelia?”

A smile forms on her lips, “Possibly.”

“I- I see… Well, I don’t…”

“You’re trained in the arts of making conversation aren’t you, Lord Arys.” Amelia teases.

“W-well, in the past life I can talk properly mind you…”

“Past life?” Amelia’s cheeks are about to burst.

“Eh, I mean, past life as in—”

She laughs in amusement, “Lord Arys, please!” She continues her delight.

I stand here ridiculously with a companion who continues her laughter, “Don’t laugh, please…”

“Oh, Gods. That- that was good.” She dabs a tear from her eyes with her hand.

I continue to wait for her to stop, “Are you done?” I hide the annoyance from my tone, “Please, don’t call me ‘Lord’.”

“Yes.” She smiles at me, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Amelia shrugs, leftover smiles form but she refrains from laughing, “I don’t know. I just… thankful. I’m thankful for the laughter.”

For a moment, I contemplate, “Well, you’re welcome.”

“And yes, to answer your question. Yes, I do like men but not in ways you probably imagined.”

I am filled with curiosity, “How so?”

“Well, I like my men… strong?”

“Sounds typical to me.”

She looks exasperated, "No, you're not getting it. Not strong in the sense of wielding a sword and defeating foes. No. But in ways you... cry?"

“Ah.” I said willfully, “Weak men.”

“No!” she playfully smiles knowing I tease, “But do you understand?”

“I honestly don’t.” I let out a smile, “But I would like to know more.”

Amelia looks at me in anticipation, “When a boy wants a toy and doesn’t get it, he will—”

“Cry.”

“Right.” She said, “And if a man wants a house and doesn’t get it, he will…?”

I took a moment, my eyes searching for the answer, "Cry?"

"No," she beams, as if she just tricked me, "Work for it, to achieve his goals."

“What?”

“And then he cries.”

I shake my head, “I don’t follow.”

“Sure. Let’s try again,” she looks around, drawing inspiration, “A Lady spills wine on a Lord’s suit and he will whine.”

“Nice.” I glanced around, “Rhymes?”

Amelia chuckles, she must’ve thought it’s silly, "A Lady spills wine on a King and he will be fine."

I waited for her to continue but that’s the end of it, “I think I am getting it.”

“And then he cries.”

I raise my finger, “Now, see. That’s where I’m having trouble. You see, why the need to cry?”

She giggles and brushes her hair to the side, “Because… why not?”

"Why not indeed," I scratch the tip of my nose, "I understand, yet at the same time, I don't."

This reminds me of my time in the past life. Talking to women my age is hard but I don’t find it difficult. Little girls in this world are scary and well-educated. I wish I didn’t have to talk to them, it shows my insecurities. Also, it is weird.

“For an eight-year-old, you sound so mature, Arys.”

I must have given away my secret, “What makes you say that?”

“Of all the people I told about this, you alone didn’t contest.”

"Why would I question a ten-year-old's preference for boys?" I smirk, feeling rather self-assured knowing I am too smart for my body’s age.

Maybe sounding more like an adult in a child’s body would’ve benefited me more than just trying to act like a stupid kid. In this way, I may gather all the information I need to learn about my real father’s legacy here.

But, then again, why would I look for anything related to my father?

To be honest, I don’t know the reason either. I may have accepted that I won’t be seeing him anymore but that doesn’t mean I shall forget him. That’s right, maybe I just want to have a token to remember him by.

"Arys?" Amelia's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

“Yes…” I muttered nonchalantly. Shaking my head to stay conscious of our conversation.

“What is your type of lady?” she asks, bobbing her head lower.

I smirk in confidence, “I like them cute and tall.”

“Slender, too, I assume?”

“Yes.”

She looks at me disgustingly, “Awfully sounds like Lady Hearth…” Amelia squints at me, “Are you one of those deviants Arys…?”

“N- no!”

Amelia responds joyfully snorts and pokes the side of my stomach with her finger, teasing me.

I shake my head in disbelief, earlier this girl was just insulting me and my family.

She stops making snorting sounds, her fingers cease poking.

I look away, to make myself appear busy. I guess the conversation has reached a natural end.

But I can feel her peering close to my face, I can smell her perfume. The moment I returned my attention to Amelia, her face was near mine. I stumbled and bumped my head on the wall. She resumes laughing.

I caress the back of my head while I listen to her snorting laugh.

Her posture is slumped, she’s holding her sides, and she seems to enjoy pestering me.

I groaned while I massaged the pain in my skull away. I shake my head once more. This feeling feels familiarly hostile but because she’s a little girl, I didn’t mind.

Or maybe because I am somehow used to being bullied at school in the past life that I only respond with a smile whenever someone is bothering me. Usually, I resent in silence. Did my previous experience make me more tolerant of kids like her? Or am I just too old enough to know that she’s just another kid who wants to have a laugh?

“You enjoy tormenting people, Amelia?”

She stops and wipes a tear from her eyes, “No, no. Just you.” she said before completely collecting herself, “You remind me of my brother, I’m sorry. I never had someone to fool around with for a long time. It’s hard to act proper in front of other nobility, you see.”

I wasn’t even aware of fooling around with her, “I see, well, I want to meet this brother of yours. I bet we will have the same opinion about you.”

“He’s dead.”

Her tone didn’t change. She still looks at me with such joy but not too much. Though, it felt more melancholic.

“Father won’t tell me why,” she added, “But, I remember him well and I remember him fondly.”

She stretches her arms and places her hand on top of my head, brushing my hair, “I bet he’d like you, too.”

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be!” her cheeks beams once again as she puts her hand down.

We returned to our positions. I lean my back on the wall and she stands beside me, waiting for our family members.

“What’s he like?” I make an effort for conversation.

She looks up and thinks, “Well… he likes heroes. From the legends.”

“Oh? Me too!”

Her face perks up, “Really?”

“Yeah.” I stopped leaning on the wall, “I’ve been reading about them.”

“Most boys will take up a sword. Can you use magic?”

“I’m not most boys.” I sneer, “Why would I use magic?”

She moves to face me better, “Those who can use magic reads a grimoire.”

“Well, I’m not a mage nor do I have a grimoire, whatever that is.”

“Nonetheless, you read books. So, what’s your favorite legend?” Her usual highborn tone tries to test my knowledge.

“W-well, I like Enid of the End… Mundos the Murderous? And maybe some Sicky the Sick…” I wasn’t prepared for her question but good thing I still remember what Hearth said.

“That’s an intense collection of villains!” her face suggests that I have successfully convinced her of my prowess in Evereal’s history.

“What a-about you?” It’s my time to test yours, you little punk.

“Well… Let’s see… I kinda like your daddy, he’s a weakling!”

Suddenly, I felt faint, out of nowhere my legs almost gave out. Thankfully she didn’t notice. But now I am completely shocked. I can hear screaming, though.

“W-what?” I gasped for air, “What did you say?”

Amelia looked bothered, she said something but I couldn’t hear it. All I hear is people panicking, her face turns pale. Then finally, we both lose consciousness. 

Thud.