After lunch, Ligia walked through the marble corridors to her room as if crossing an invisible battlefield.
The door closed with a whisper.
She carefully removed her formal dress, hanging it up as if it were also exhausted.
The bathtub was already full, with perfumed vapors dancing in the air. Ligia dove in without hesitation, the warm water enveloping her body like an ancient embrace.
"Liquid relief. Why don't all reincarnations begin with this?" she murmured comfortingly.
Then, wrapped in a soft robe, she applied her natural products with slow movements: lavender and wild rose oils, light creams that smelled like the forest after the rain.
Touches of vanity, yes, but also subtle armor.
She then lay down on the bed like a leaf on water.
She closed her eyes. A moment of silence, peace, almost a dream—
[DING!]
The eyes opened, dry with patience.
There it was.
The System in its holographic feline form of dubious luxury with electric eyes, an infinitely looping tail and a voice that seemed to come straight from a supernatural call center.
"You have gained 6 Total Affinity points so far!" he said, perched on her nightstand. "Three of them came from your little sister. Congratulations for not traumatizing a child in the first two days."
Lígia groaned, putting her hands over her ears.
"Get out of my nap, byte demon..."
"It won't work, Your Reincarnation. I am part of your soul now."
She sat up in bed, furious, and without even thinking, threw a pillow at him.
The pillow passed right through the cat, piercing his digital aura with the grace of an ignored insult.
"Tsk." she muttered, biting her lip. "Stupid system..."
"Stupid? Look who's talkin—" he didn't finish his sentence because the door flew open with a synchronized bang.
Three maids entered like a social storm with lace aprons.
"Miss! It's time to get ready for the afternoon class!"
"Dress, hair, and maybe a necklace with less..."
"The tutor is here!"
Lígia stared at the ceiling for two seconds as if begging for ancestral strength.
"Of course. Because rest is a revolutionary concept around here."
The maids began to move like birds in a flock. One went straight to the closet, another brought brushes and ribbons, and the third... looked suspiciously at the spot where the cat was.
"Is everything okay, miss? Are you talking... to yourself?"
Lígia smiled with forced sweetness. "It's the new method of mental meditation. Anti-stress."
The system purred in the corner, arrogantly.
"Advanced reality denial technique. Level 3 unlocked."
She whispered through her teeth.
"I swear that if I could erase you, I would do it with a flash drive and coarse salt."
And she stood up with the pose of an exhausted empress who, against her will, is going to conquer the world.
I sighed.
My body became a doll in the skilled hands of the maids, who braided, pinned, dressed and adjusted me as if my soul were being auctioned at a noble ball. The silent torture of being "presentable" like a count's daughter.
Oh, if they only knew that the soul inside me came from a place where sweatpants were ceremonial attire and breakfast was just a sip of liquid despair...
When I was finally released, I walked through the corridors like a warrior who had lost to her own team.
That damned cat with the code of a comedian floated beside me, invisible to everyone, but mocking only me.
The afternoon classroom was wide, with tall windows that let in the light filtered by the lazy afternoon sky. Inside, an elderly woman watched the landscape with an upright posture, as if time did not dare bend her back. White hair tied in an elegant bun, eyes gray as the first frost of winter.
I swallowed my anxiety. I remembered the morning's instructions. Etiquette. Grace. Posture.
"Lígia d'Argêntea, daughter of the Count d'Argêntea, at your service," I said with a delicate bow, as taught.
The lady turned slowly, measuring me with eyes that seemed to weigh memories and intentions.
"Sit down, child. Let's see if there's more than just etiquette on that pretty face."
I sat down in front of her, trying to appear dignified and not like a dimensional fraud from another world.
"Have you ever studied the history of this world?" she asked in a clear voice.
I choked on my own pride.
"No, ma'am..."
She laughed, a dry but lively sound.
"Of course not. Young people today prefer balls, mirrors, and cheap adventures to knowledge. Very well, at least you're honest."
She approached, her steps rhythmic like the ticking of an old clock, and opened a thick book, placing it on the table.
"Listen well. This world, my young lady, is woven of kingdoms, empires, gods, and ambitions."
Her words began to paint the air around me, and for the first time since I was reincarnated, I felt... real interest.
"The Empire of Solarys, where she now lives with her dear family, is the heart of nobility and tradition. Here, castles breathe magic and nobles dance on the edges of politics and power."
"To the east, the Kingdom of Lunaris shines beneath the Moon Goddess. Priestesses rule it, and their magic is like mist—soft but deadly."
"To the west lies Eldrath, an empire where sword and sorcery are blood brothers. There, children learn to kill before they learn to smile."
"To the south, the Kingdom of Verdeval cultivates wheat, wine, and peace. Its fields are blessed by the God of Agriculture, and its conflicts are settled with words and tea."
"In the north, ah... there the world is torn apart. Independent cities, warring guilds, and no central crown to guide them."
As she spoke, a new flame ignited within me.
Guilds? Magic? Cults?
This... this was better than any TV drama.
"Guilds, my dear, are the other side of the coin of power. They ignore crowns and follow gods, contracts, or unique talents."
"The closest to the empire are—"
"The Guild of the Flaming Rose—duelists and fire mages."
"The Silent Eyes—shadows, illusions, espionage."
"The Order of the Eternal Contract—words with the weight of spells."
"And the Council of Arcane Artisans—creators of empire-changing artifacts."
My brain began to ache from holding in so much new information, but I continued to listen with glazed eyes.
"The academies mold the elite. On Solarys, we train diplomats, intrigue dancers, and elemental mages. On Lunaris, they create lunar priestesses and sorcerers. Eldrath? They train warriors who conjure destruction with a glance. Verdeval teaches alchemy with the calm of plants."
She paused. Her eyes searched mine. "And behind it all, the gods. Ancient, present, jealous."
"Solarium, the God of Light. Kaorlun, of Chaos—forbidden, of course. Thargan, of Destruction. Selunara, the Moon. Farlorn, of Harvests. Velmor, of Contracts. And Edris, of the Five Elements, among others..."
She ran her fingers through the pages of her book as if caressing an old lover.
"Choosing who to serve defines who you will be in this world."
"Serve?" I thought. "Isn't it easier to just survive?"
But I didn't speak. I just wrote it down. I recorded everything. I might be a dimensional impostor, but no one said I couldn't be an exceptional student.
When the class ended, the lady closed the book with a snap.
"Come back with questions. A noblewoman who doesn't question will always be a slave to what she's told."
I stood up with my head buzzing.
Outside, the virtual cat was waiting for me, leaning against the door with his cynical little smile.
"And here I thought you were going to fall asleep before learning anything useful."
"Shut up, you magical feline from hell..." I muttered, walking back to the hallways.