This Body Is Not Mine

—  No, no, no... This has to be a dream. Or possibly even a stroke.

In disbelief, I pinched my right cheek, trying to stretch it out wide, but barely did it move. The skin was taut, smooth, and firm, nothing like the loose, wrinkled cheeks I had grown used to.

“Ow!”

“...”

— Impossible.

The sting was sharp.

This wasn’t a dream.

Nor a fevered delusion of an old man on his deathbed.

This... this was real.

And then I was greeted by even more pain, snapping through my stomach and back like a jolt of lightning.

—  Great, yet another pain to add to the list.

"..."

“What’s wrong, Master?” the maid beside me asked with great concern. 

The other maid quickly followed up, “Are you still feeling unwell? Shall we summon the family doctor? We can report this to the Head of the House, if you wish, dear Master.”

Both maids wore the formal black-and-white uniform, typical of high-ranking house servants: flowing skirts, high collars, pristine white gloves, and modest hats. The first maid was tall and slender, her jet-black hair twisted into a high doughnut bun. A spectacle sat neatly on her nose, but an eyepatch covered her right eye. The second had a light brown ponytail, a petite yet curvier build, and faint scars that traced the edges of her cheeks.

— Gorgeous.

“Uhm… Master?”

Snapped from my daze, I chuckled hesitantly, “No, no… that’s fine. There’s no need. But thank you for your concern...”

"..."

The room fell into a sudden, sharp silence.

Neither maid moved nor spoke. For a full minute, they simply stared at me, wide-eyed, mouths agape behind their gloved hands, frozen as though they had just witnessed a ghost.

— Did I say something wrong...?

They leaned in close to each other and began whispering behind their cupped palms.

“Did you hear that…?”

“The Master said, 'thank you'…?”

“I thought it was just me, but… it seems we have both heard it now.”

“Surely… the injury the second Master inflicted has affected the third Master’s sanity as well.”

From their hushed exchange, one thing became clear: the pain I was feeling, was definitely not self-inflicted. Rather, caused by someone else, by the so-called 'Second Master,” whoever that may be. I needed answers. I needed to understand more about this body, this place, and the intricate relationships within the household. And right now, the only leads I had were the two maids standing before me.

I coughed lightly to regain their attention and control of the room, cutting through their whispered chatter.

“I seem to have a few questions,” I said carefully. “Would it be alright to ask?”

“Yes! Of course!” the black-haired maid with the eyepatch replied at once, though there was a flicker of nervousness behind her composed tone.

She appeared to be the more experienced of the two. Her name tag, subtly pinned near the base of her collar, read Clara Weiss. She radiated quiet professionalism, even under pressure. The younger one, Tessa Mirell, the brown-haired maid with soft features and faint scars on her cheeks, stood a step behind Clara, casting wary glances in my direction.

“I just want to confirm a few things,” I continued. “But I would prefer no interruptions or counter-questions. Understood?”

“Yes, Master. All clear,” Clara nodded, her posture stiffening like a soldier before a superior.

"Alright. First question: What is my name, and where am I?"

“Your name is Master Elias Vandrelis, and you are currently resting in your personal quarters in the House of Vandrelis.”

The words hit me like a sudden chill. I slowly leaned back against the headboard, trying to piece together my scattered thoughts, but even that felt... off.

This body, Elias’s body, felt strange in ways I couldn’t quite describe.

My arms were long and slender, my skin pale and unblemished, without a hint of the wear and fatigue I had grown used to. Even the smallest movement felt different, smoother, more graceful… almost aristocratic. 

And yet, it wasn’t just the body.

Even my thoughts, my very way of thinking,  had begun to shift. I caught myself reacting faster, more impulsively, with a touch of sharpness I hadn’t known since my youth. Words sprang to mind more freely, more colourfully, as though the mind and body were both being rewired together once more.

But most of all, there was a strange vitality coursing just beneath the surface, a quiet, electric thrum pulsing in my veins, almost impossible to ignore.

Everything felt heightened. The colours of the room. The distant chirp of birds. Even the texture of the sheets beneath my fingers was unusually vivid, as though I were experiencing the world in high definition for the first time.

— This wasn’t just a young body.

It was refined.

Enhanced.

Not quite superhuman, but far beyond what I once called normal.

Was it the mark of noble blood? Magic? Mana sensitivity?

— Wait, does magic even exist in this world...? 

Or was this all just puberty, served with an extra touch of flair?

"..."

“Thank you. Second question now,” I said. “Who are my parents, and do I have any siblings?”

Clara hesitated. “That is…”

“Is something the matter?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at Clara’s hesitation.

“You see, Master…”

“It’s fine. Just get on with it.”

“Yes, Master! Your father is Duke Albrecht Vandrelis, the current Head of House Vandrelis. He is married to Duchess Katherine Vandrelis, and together they have the First Master and First Miss, your eldest brother and sister. The Duke also has a second wife, Lady Isabelle Vandrelis, and she bore the Second Master, as well as the Second and Third Miss, your other siblings. And…”

“And…?”

She froze again, visibly conflicted.

"!"

“You were born from a maid!” Tessa suddenly blurted out, falling to her knees. “Please, have mercy, Master! I’ll take any punishment on Clara's behalf, please, Master, please...”

Clara hurried to her side, wrapping her arms protectively around the trembling girl, trying to calm her down. The room fell into tense silence, thick with fear.

I blinked in disbelief.

So that was it.

I was the third son of Duke Albrecht Vandrelis, born not of a duchess, but of a maid.

A stain. A scandal. A low-born among high-bloods.

Now it all made sense. The reason why the ‘Second Master,’ my second-oldest brother, and I shared such a hostile relationship, it all stemmed from the stark contrast in our social standings. It was so severe that I had been left near demise, confined to this bed. I could only imagine that the feeling was mutual with the rest of my family as well.

And the maids, had Elias punished them before? Were their injuries simply the price of acknowledging his origin?

Was that why they looked so terrified? And why they had gone all pale at something as simple as a ‘thank you’?

— Just what kind of life did you live, Elias Vandrelis…?

"..."

“That’s fine,” I said quietly, my voice neutral. “The two of you are dismissed.”

They froze. Then looked up with wide, eyes of disbelief, as if they had just been spared the gallows.

They bowed deeply and began to leave.

But something within me twisted. I couldn’t let them go just yet. There were still questions. Questions I needed answers to.

“By the way, there is one more thing I would like to ask.”

“Yes, Master? Please, please do ask away,” Clara turned back, visibly relieved that I had not changed my mind about their dismissal.

“Why do you wear an eyepatch?”

Clara froze mid-step.

The air changed.

It grew heavy. Cold. Oppressive.

"!"

Tessa, who had nearly reached the door, turned back slowly. Her timid expression had completely vanished. Those brown eyes, once wide with fear, now blazed with something fiercer.

Had I just stepped on something I shouldn’t have?

Did I just land myself on a... death flag?

“Ahaha… Never mind,” I laughed awkwardly. “Forget I asked. You may leave now.”

The ominous pressure faded away like mist.

They bowed once more, Clara with her composed elegance, and Tessa with one last, lingering glance, as they quietly departed the room.

I let out a long breath, my heart pounding ferociously, as if it had just been shocked back to life.

— Looks like I narrowly just avoided disaster. Phew.