Morning came gently.
Sunlight slipped through the curtains in thin golden bands, warming my face before I was fully awake. For a brief, dangerous moment, I let myself lie still and pretend this was just another day—that I hadn't died, that the world hadn't tried to bind me, that fate itself hadn't flinched when I refused to play my part.
Then a small weight landed squarely on my chest.
"Oof—!"
Air rushed out of my lungs as something warm and energetic bounced once, twice.
"Brother! You're awake! You're awake, right?"
I groaned, eyes snapping open just in time to see a familiar mop of hair hovering above me.
My younger sister grinned down at me, hands planted on my chest like she'd conquered a mountain.
She was still small—too small to be worrying about politics or talent rankings. Her hair was neatly braided, probably by a maid, and her eyes sparkled with unfiltered joy.
"Good morning," she declared. "You promised yesterday."
I blinked. "Promised… what?"
Her smile faltered for half a second.
"…You forgot already?"
Pain pricked somewhere unexpected.
In the original timeline, I had forgotten. Repeatedly. Promises to play, promises to walk with her, promises to watch her practice—all discarded the moment something annoyed me.
But this time—
"I promised we'd play," I said slowly, testing the memory.
Her face lit up like I'd just given her the world.
"Yes! You said after breakfast! You said you wouldn't cancel even if you were tired!"
She leaned closer, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're not cancelling, are you?"
I stared at her for a moment.
Then I smiled.
"No," I said. "I'm not."
She squealed and launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck with reckless enthusiasm.
I stiffened instinctively—then forced myself to relax and returned the hug.
She smelled faintly of soap and morning flowers.
"…You're different," she murmured into my shoulder.
My hand froze.
"Different how?"
She pulled back and tilted her head, considering. "I dunno. You're softer."
I snorted. "I'm still overweight."
She giggled. "That too."
I laughed quietly—an unfamiliar sound in my own ears.
Breakfast passed with fewer stares than I expected, though that didn't mean they weren't there.
My mother watched me closely over her tea, eyes sharp but not unkind. My father read in silence, though I noticed—just once—that his gaze flicked toward my plate when I declined a second helping of pastries.
My older sister arrived late, already dressed for her own training. She paused when she saw me… and then paused again when she saw my younger sister chattering animatedly at my side.
"…What are you doing?" she asked flatly.
"Playing later," my younger sister answered proudly. "Brother promised."
My older sister's brow creased—just slightly.
"You?" she said, looking directly at me now. "Keeping promises?"
I met her gaze evenly. "I intend to."
For a heartbeat, something unreadable passed behind her eyes.
Then she scoffed softly. "We'll see."
She left without another word.
I didn't chase her.
Not yet.
Some bridges needed time.
We played in the gardens.
Not the formal ones meant for guests and diplomacy—but the side garden, where the hedges were allowed to grow wild and the flowers bloomed without strict patterns.
My younger sister ran circles around me, laughing as I chased her at a deliberately slow pace.
"Too slow!" she teased.
"I'm pacing myself," I shot back, panting. "I'm old and fragile."
"You're fourteen!"
"Exactly."
She giggled and darted behind a tree. I followed, heart thudding—not just from exertion, but from the strange warmth blooming in my chest.
This was… nice.
Too nice.
A memory surfaced unbidden: her crying at my funeral. Clutching my sleeve and asking why I wouldn't wake up.
I stopped abruptly.
She noticed immediately.
"Brother?"
I knelt down to her level, resting my hands on my knees.
"…Hey," I said gently. "If I ever act scary again… or mean… will you tell me?"
She frowned. "You're not scary now."
"I know," I said. "But if I am. Promise me."
She considered this with all the seriousness only a child could muster.
"…Okay. I promise."
"Good."
She smiled again, satisfied, and tugged on my sleeve. "Come on! You're it!"
We played until my legs burned and sweat soaked through my clothes. By the time a maid came running to remind us of lessons, I was breathing hard and grinning like an idiot.
The servants watched from a distance, murmuring softly to one another.
The duke's disgrace of an heir… laughing?
With his sister?
I ignored them.
For once, their whispers didn't matter.
That afternoon, I returned to the training yard.
Alone.
No audience. No expectations.
Just repetition.
I stretched carefully this time, remembering what little I knew about proper form. My muscles protested immediately, still sore from yesterday.
"Good," I muttered. "That means you're alive."
Push-ups. Squats. Slow laps around the yard.
I didn't rush.
I didn't push to collapse.
I focused on consistency.
Breath in. Breath out.
Again.
Again.
Again.
By the time the sun dipped lower in the sky, my shirt clung to me, soaked through. My limbs trembled—not with weakness, but with exhaustion earned honestly.
I sat down heavily against the fence, chest rising and falling.
No system notifications.
No sudden power.
Just effort.
And yet… something felt different.
Not stronger.
Lighter.
Not physically—my body hadn't changed that fast.
Mentally.
For the first time in both lives, I wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone.
I was just… building.
I closed my eyes and let my awareness drift inward.
The status screen flickered into existence.
.===Status=== Name: Aurelian von Edevane Potential : D rank [SEALED – DESTABILIZING] Rank : G Strength : G Agility : G Stamina : G- Intelligence : G Mana capacity : G Luck : E Charm : G- ==========
Still pathetic.
Still cursed-looking.
And yet, I knew better now.
I dismissed the screen and stood, rolling my shoulders.
Tomorrow, I would do it again.
The day after that, again.
And again.
Fate didn't change because of one dramatic moment.
It changed because of quiet ones—moments no one bothered to record.
As I left the yard, I felt it faintly—Sovereign of Silence humming under my skin, obedient and dormant.
I hadn't activated it.
I didn't need to.
For once, the world was quiet enough.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't running from the person I was becoming.