When I opened my eyes, the world didn't smell like sweat, blood, or the cold metal of the cage.It smelled like perfume and clean sheets.
The ceiling above me wasn't cracked concrete.It was white, draped with gold-threaded curtains.Too fancy. Too soft. Too unreal.
I blinked once. Twice.Still there.
I turned my head—every muscle in my neck ached like hell. My knuckles were bandaged, ribs burning under my shirt.Yeah. The pain was real.But the place wasn't.
I sat up slowly. The bed was king-sized, probably worth more than the prize money I'd ever earned.A part of me wanted to laugh, but my jaw hurt too much.
Then—creak.The door opened.
A young maid peeked in, hands shaking like a leaf."G-Good morning, Lord Kael."
Her voice triggered something.A floodgate opened.
Names, faces, memories that weren't mine—crashing into my head all at once.I clutched my skull and screamed.
She rushed to my side, panic replacing fear."What happened, my lord?"
I took a breath. "Nothing. Just a headache."
She still looked ready to cry."Y-your father has summoned you, my lord."
I turned to her, my gaze sharp."If you ever act scared in front of me again," I said, my voice low, "I'll throw you out of this castle."
Her lips trembled, and she nodded before leaving quickly.
(I know what you're thinking — "Why talk like that right after reincarnating?")(Because I'm not one of those soft-hearted protagonists who wake up crying and swearing to change their lives.)(I fought for mine. And I lost. That's my story.)
I stood up, stretched my body, and felt every bruise complain.Whoever this Kael guy was, he didn't take care of himself either.I walked toward the mirror.
The reflection staring back at me was young, handsome—too clean for my taste—but his eyes... they looked tired. Angry.Like he'd lost something long before I arrived.
I smirked. "Guess I'm not the only broken one here."
The corridor outside was silent. Guards avoided my gaze, bowing quickly.My steps echoed on the marble floor—each one slow, deliberate.
(If you're going to be a villain, you might as well look cool doing it.)
By the time I reached the Duke's office, I already knew the drill.The original Kael's memories whispered warnings—Scoldings, insults, the constant comparison to his "perfect brother."
The door creaked open.
Behind the desk sat Duke Ardan Valtor—my new father.Eyes sharp, posture rigid, voice colder than the room itself.
"What did you do in the academy?" he demanded.His tone wasn't angry—it was disappointed. Somehow that felt worse.
I stayed quiet.
"Beaten by a commoner," he continued, slamming his hand on the table. "Suspended. You've turned this house into a joke!"
(Here it comes. The royal-house lecture. Hour-long version. No breaks.)
I waited for him to finish.
He leaned forward. "Why can't you be more like your brother? If you were even one percent of him—"
"I'll think about it," I interrupted.
Silence.Even the air in the room seemed to freeze.
Then I turned around and walked out, ignoring the vein bulging in his temple.
(Respect, huh? You don't earn it by shouting.)(You earn it with fists. With blood. With silence.)
To be continued…