Chapter 2:
When Lilies Dream of Fire
— No, no, no… This has to be a dream. Or possibly 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 came even more pain, snapping through my stomach and back like 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 added, “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, with a spectacle perched on her nose and an eyepatch covering her right eye. The second had a light brown ponytail, a petite yet curvy build, and faint scars tracing 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 silent.
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 felt wasn’t self-inflicted. Rather, by someone else, the so-called 'Second Master' had caused it.
I needed answers.
And right now, the only leads were the two maids standing before me.
I coughed lightly, cutting through their whispers.
“I have a few questions,” I said carefully. “May I ask them?”
“Yes! Of course!” the black-haired maid with the eyepatch replied immediately, though a flicker of nervousness betrayed her composed tone.
She appeared more experienced. Her name tag, subtly pinned near her collar, read Clara Weiss. The younger one, Tessa Mirell, brown-haired with soft features and faint scars on her cheeks, stood a step behind, glancing warily in my direction.
“I just want to confirm a few things,” I continued. “No interruptions or counter-questions. Understood?”
“Yes, Master. All clear,” Clara nodded, 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 chill. I 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 describe. My arms were long and slender, my skin pale and unblemished. Even the smallest movement felt smoother, more graceful… almost aristocratic.
And yet, it wasn’t just the body. My very thoughts had begun to shift. I reacted faster, more impulsively, sharper than I had in decades. Words sprang to mind freely, colourful and quick.
Beneath it all, a strange vitality pulsed through my veins, impossible to ignore.
Everything felt heightened: the colours, the distant chirp of birds, the texture of the sheets beneath my fingers. It was as though I were seeing 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 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,” I said. “Who are my parents? Do I have siblings?”
Clara hesitated. “That is…”
“Is something the matter?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You see, Master…”
“It’s fine. Just get on with it.”
“Yes, Master! Your father is Duke Albrecht Vandrelis, Head of House Vandrelis. He is married to Duchess Katherine Vandrelis, and together they have the First Master and First Miss, your eldest siblings. The Duke also has a second wife, Lady Seraphine Vandrelis, who bore the Second Master and the Second and Third Miss. And…”
“And…?”
She froze.
"!"
“You were born from a maid!” Tessa suddenly blurted, 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. The room was 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 a maid.
A stain. A scandal. A low-born among high-bloods.
Now it made sense why the 'Second Master' hated me, and why I had been left near death. And the maids’ fear, had Elias punished them before? Were their injuries simply for acknowledging my origin?
— Just what kind of life did you live, Elias Vandrelis…?
"..."
“That’s fine,” I said quietly. “You’re dismissed.”
They froze, then looked up with wide eyes, disbelief written across their faces. They bowed deeply and began to leave.
But I couldn’t let them go just yet. I had questions.
“One more thing.”
“Yes, Master? Please, please ask,” Clara turned back, relieved.
“Why do you wear an eyepatch?”
Clara froze mid-step.
The air grew heavy. Cold. Oppressive.
"!"
Tessa, who had nearly reached the door, turned back. Her timid expression vanished, replaced with fierce determination.
Had I just stepped on something I shouldn’t have?
— Death flag?
“Ahaha… Never mind,” I laughed awkwardly. “Forget I asked. You may leave now.”
The pressure faded.
They bowed once more, Clara composed, Tessa with a lingering glance, and quietly departed.
I let out a long breath, heart pounding as if shocked back to life.
— Looks like I narrowly avoided disaster. Phew.
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