After a couple of minutes, there was a knock at the door. I closed the book and went to open it.
Isabelle stepped into the room, her emerald eyes scanning the shelves and scattered books before fixing her gaze on me.
"Hey! Mother told me to bring you to town to get something," she continued. "Everyone's busy, yet you're always stuck in this room without a care in the world. What do you even do in here? It's just books! Mother's worried about you, you know!"
I sighed, brushing off her scolding. "Alright, I'll talk to her later. So stop nagging at me."
"Hmph... You better. I'll be waiting out front, so go change your clothes,"
Although she was right, I didn't really go outside or interact with other people much. My world revolved around my family and the servants in the manor. I had no friends, which made me the complete opposite of my older sister—bright and friendly.
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my clothes and running a hand through my black hair. As I stared into my unique crimson eyes, I couldn't help but think of what my parents had told me that I inherited them from my grandfather. Looking at my small hands, I clenched them into fists, missing the strength and size of my old body.
Once I was ready, I walked toward the front gate, where I noticed a tall, serious-looking man standing guard. A prominent scar marked his left cheek. I smiled and greeted him warmly.
"Good afternoon, Sir Roswell."
"Good afternoon, young lord. I heard you're also heading to town today."
"Yeah, Mother asked me to go. So, how are you finding it here so far?" I asked.
He nodded thoughtfully. "I'm still adjusting, but the training grounds and the people here are nice."
From what I'd heard, Sir Roswell was an old friend of my father from their academy days. Last week, my father had hired him as our guard. They said he was incredibly strong, comparable to Father himself. I wondered idly who would win if they ever sparred.
Before I could ask him anything else, the sound of hooves drew my attention. A carriage rolled up to the front, and Isabelle appeared, walking briskly toward us in a green-and-white dress. Her expression was one of impatience.
"Hey, you're late!" she yelled. "We need to hurry."
I raised an eyebrow at her. "No, I'm not. What exactly are we going to get?"
She sighed dramatically, "Just get in the carriage. You'll know when we get there."
Deciding not to argue, I dropped the subject and climbed into the carriage beside her. The driver gave a soft command, and the horses began to trot, pulling us down the path toward the bustling town of Linberg.
...
As we sat inside the carriage, Isabelle reached into her purse and handed me a colorful puzzle cube.
"Here, I still can't figure out that puzzle," she said with an annoyed, holding it out to me.
"I told you, you have to start with this part first," I said, pointing to one of the sides.
Belle leaned closer, watching intently as I rotated the cube, aligning the pieces step by step. After a few twists, the colors clicked into place.
"Done," I said, handing it back to her with a grin.
Belle stared at the solved cube in awe, then back at me. "How do you come up with so many of these things?" she asked, her puzzled expression mixed with curiosity.
"Reading books," I replied casually, shrugging.
Of course, I couldn't tell her they were ideas carried over from my past life. Creating puzzles like jigsaws and cube games kept me entertained and gave me something to focus on in this world. Belle often borrowed them, even though she pretended not to care.
"I prefer swords over books," she said, tossing the cube into her bag. Then her face lit up. "Oh, guess what—I heard Roswell's going to start training me next week!"
"Really? That's amazing! Can I join the training too?" I asked, my eyes widening with excitement.
Belle raised an eyebrow, giving me a skeptical look. "I don't know. You're still so young. Maybe I should ask Father?"
"Please, pretty please!" I said eagerly, clasping my hands together. I wasn't about to let my age hold me back. Having an instructor sounded like the perfect chance to start learning combat techniques in this world.
She smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of me begging. "Alright, I'll ask him, but don't get your hopes up, little brother. You're still a weakling"
I rolled my eyes at her teasing but couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face. The idea of training, even if just a little, was enough to fire up my determination.
...
When we arrived in town, we stepped out of the carriage and were immediately greeted by the vibrant energy of the city. Linberg, located in the southeastern part of Valeria, is surrounded by mountains to the north and west, with the sea stretching to the south. The town thrives on fishing and sea trade, which under the management of our family.
We entered a large building alongside Sir Roswell, where my mother's order awaited. An employee greeted us.
I nodded in her greetings as Belle responded warmly, "I'm fine, we're here to pick up Mother's order."
The employee checked her notebook. "Found it! I'll bring it out. This may take a few minutes."
"That's alright," While we waited, a girl with brown hair and bright yellow eyes appeared and greeted my sister.
"Hello, Belle! It's so good to see you!" she said with a cheerful smile.
"Mary! Nice to see you too," Belle replied, then grinned as she looked at me. "This is my little brother, Lucy. Isn't he cute?"
Ignoring her, I introduced myself, "Good to meet you, Lady Mary. You can call me Lucian."
"It's great to finally meet you, Lucian. Belle talks about you often," Mary replied.
"Really? I hope she hasn't been saying anything too bad," I said, glancing at Belle.
Mary laughed. "Not at all! You don't come to town often, so it's nice to finally see you."
"You're right. I'll try to visit more often in the future."
Belle interrupted, "Enough talking. Mary, want to go to Lana's Pastry while we wait?"
"Sure! They just got a new cake," Mary replied, eyes lit up.
"Really? I can't wait to try it," Belle said, and the two left, laughing as they headed to the bakery.
Mary Goldhart was the daughter of the owner of Hartstone Trading Company, one of the most influential businesses in Valeria.
As they left, I informed Sir Roswell, "I'm going to check out some books,"
"I'll come with you—" he started, but I interrupted, "It's fine; the bookstore is just across the road. Just keep an eye on my sister."
He hesitated before nodding. "Alright, but don't wander around."
...
I stepped into the bookstore. At the counter stood a suspicious-looking man, his sharp eyes flicking up as I approached.
"Do you have a detailed map of Valeria and neighboring countries? Also, I'm looking for books on famous individuals, history, and similar topics." I handed him a list I'd prepared.
He looked at me, clearly surprised. "You're quite young to be interested in these kinds of books, aren't you kid?"
I grinned, tapping the small pouch of coins. "I've got money, mister. That's all that matters, right?"
He chuckled. "Fair enough, young patron. Let's see what I've got."
After a while, he returned with three books and two scrolls. "This should cover everything on your list."
As I paid and was about to leave, he called out, "Please come again, young patron!"
Glancing back at him. I'd half-expected him to take advantage of me for being a child, but he seemed kinder than I had thought.
As I stepped onto the bustling streets of Linberg, the faint smell of the sea and fish lingered in the air. Cobblestone roads were lined with colorful market stalls, and the lively chatter of merchants and townsfolk filled the atmosphere.
While walking around I noticed a commotion in the corner of a dark alley. Three boys were harassing someone, so I walked over and called out, "Hey, could you stop that?"
One of the boys sneered at me. "Ha! Why would we—"
Before he could finish, I swung my bag at his face. He fell backward, landing on the ground as my bag tore open, scattering my books across the ground.
"You little brat!" the bleeding boy yelled, furious as he prepared to hit me.
"Stop, or I'll scream," I warned, pointing toward a nearby guard on the road.
The boy's friend held him back, eyeing me warily. "Let's go. He looks like he's from a noble family."
With a glare, the bleeding boy spat at the girl, "Lucky brat," before they retreated down the alley. I bent down to gather my scattered books.
"I didn't need your help," the skinny girl said, looking about my age as she helped me collect my things.
She's right; I can't beat them without getting hurt, and besides, they'd just mess with her later.
In my past life, I often saw beggars, the poor, and homeless people in the places where I grew up and in my line of work. Yet I rarely interacted with them or offered help for various reasons. Thinking to myself, I realize I just helped her out of curiosity. With my family name, talents, and skills, maybe I can change something, even if just a little. Silly thought.
"These got dirty," I muttered, brushing off the books. "Here." I handed her some coins and a piece of paper.
"I can't—" she started, but I interrupted, "Just take it. You need it more than I do."
She looked at the paper, reading aloud, "Lu- LuLu's School?"
"It's a place where you can learn and get free meals every weekend," I explained.
After a pause, she looked up at me and said, "Thank you, sir. What's your name?"
"Lucian," I replied with a small smile.