"Come on, eat a little more~"
"…nyam… nyam… owkay."
"Phelle just woke up, you need to eat more so you'll get healthy again!"
The strawberry-blonde woman I recently learned was my mother—or rather, the mother of this body—was busy feeding me breakfast in my own bedroom.
"This is warm brioche, see? Still soft~" she said, tearing off a small piece of sweet bread fresh from the oven and dipping it slightly into the gently steaming hot chocolate.
I lazily opened my mouth.
The piece slipped in, and the taste...
Huh. Not bad.
A soft sweetness and pillowy texture melted on my tongue, followed by the rich, deep aroma of dark chocolate like something straight out of a classic aristocratic still-life painting.
…Damn. I think I'm starting to like this.
It's been at least four days since my soul ended up in this girl's body, and I still had no clue why I was here or what had happened to her original soul.
Honestly, I also felt a bit guilty for taking over this body. And what about her real parents?
Wasn't I basically lying to them just by existing?
"Open wide again, Phelle~"
"Aaaa."
Well, there's nothing I can do for now.
Seeing the joyful face of this woman named Eudoria… I'm actually afraid of ruining her happiness. Besides, I think I've already gotten used to calling her Mother without even realizing it.
Also, even I don't know why that Light Girl from before sent my soul here. Seriously… was it some kind of mistake or what?
By the way, over the past few days, I've also started learning bits and pieces about this world. And as it turns out… this isn't the world I knew.
When I asked this "mother" of mine if we were living in the Kingdom of France, she just looked confused and said she'd never heard of such a country. According to her, we live in the Kingdom of Palanthein—a name that has never once appeared in any history lesson I've ever taken.
I also tried asking about Austria and Prussia. Once again, she looked even more puzzled—at one point, she even seemed worried something might be wrong with my head. Thankfully, I managed to convince her it was just lingering effects from my long seven-year coma.
"No leftovers allowed~"
To be honest, I don't think this life is too bad even though it's only been four days. I mean, back in my old life, I was constantly exhausted from work, while here… I can just laze around.
And apparently, I'm now part of a noble family. So enjoying life off the people's taxes is... surprisingly pleasant, hehe.
I can't even remember the last time I rested this much. As hard as it is to admit, maybe I should thank that mysterious creature who killed me.
Still, I have no idea why it did what it did.
"Lyra, could you bring the milk?"
"Y-Yes, my lady."
We weren't alone in the room because there was also a young maid, the same one who'd been the first person I encountered after waking up... and who ran away screaming. Even the way she responded now made it clear she was still super nervous.
Mother told me she was the one who triggered the earlier chaos in the manor, but thanks to her kindness, Lyra was allowed to keep working here. Not that I care much about that since what I'm more curious about is what happened to that captain who almost shot me.
So that night, I asked Lyra to secretly take me to the manor's library without Mother or anyone else knowing. Lyra hesitated, saying it was against the rules and tried to talk me out of it. Well, I went through with it anyway.
I did all this because I was deeply curious about this world. I figured I could learn more by reading whatever books I could find. Strangely, I was able to understand everything written, even though the letters themselves looked unfamiliar to me. I don't know what kind of magic made that possible… but it worked.
In short, I found out that I'm currently in a continent called Gravania, a name I'd never heard before. Even the map shown in the book didn't ring any bells in my memory.
It showed many nations spread across the continent. Based on the descriptions, most of them seemed to be monarchies—including the one I'm currently living in, which is known as the Kingdom of Palanthein.
Palanthein is located in the southeastern part of the continent. The book said the kingdom was once famous for producing influential philosophers and revolutionary artists.
"Does it taste good, Phelle?"
"It's okay."
But what intrigued me most was an island located far to the north of Gravania. It was labeled Eldirith Imperium – Last Stronghold.
Unfortunately much to my frustration—the page that should've explained it had been torn out. So I couldn't learn anything about that mysterious island.
Anyway, not long after, Lyra brought me a glass of milk. In my previous life, I was completely lactose intolerant, so I basically never drank milk.
"Ummm, more please…" I said to Lyra, handing her my now-empty glass.
"Haha, Phelle really loves milk, huh? Isn't that your fourth glass already?"
I could only blush at my mother's teasing.
I mean…
I never knew milk could taste this good.
Maybe it's because I can finally drink it without consequences… or maybe it's just that my new taste buds belong to a child and usually children love milk.
But hey, they said this body has been in a coma for seven years. So drinking lots of milk to get healthier… is perfectly reasonable…right?
"I'm so full…"
"Well, that's what happens when you eat while chugging down that much milk, hehe."
Feeling the fullness in my belly, I could only rub it gently as I leaned back against the wooden chair in the room. This… this was the carefree life I had always dreamed of.
This is bad.
At this rate, I might actually gain weight like crazy. It'd be ridiculous if I ended up dying from overeating in a world I'd only just started living in.
That thought only lingered for a moment before suddenly a knock echoed from the door.
Mother, having heard it as well, replied calmly, "Come in." Lyra, who had been standing nearby, quickly walked to the door and opened it after getting permission.
As the door slowly creaked open, two familiar figures stepped into the room.
One of them was Aeson, who seemed to be the one in charge of managing the household affairs in this manor. And the other… was that stiff man—who, as it turns out, is my father. Alexion.
"M-My Lord!?"
Even Mother seemed caught off guard by Alexion's sudden arrival. She quickly stood up, bowing respectfully to the head of the manor in a bit of a fluster.
"Relax. Sit down," Alexion said in his usual calm voice.
And me?
I just stayed in my seat, casually rubbing my belly like none of this was my concern.
Eventually, Alexion turned to look at me.
I could tell from his face that he wasn't exactly thrilled to see me.
Eh. Who cares.
"I've received complaints from the head chef," he said with a sigh. "Apparently, their workload's doubled since you woke up. Now that I'm seeing it for myself, I feel sorry for him."
I didn't bother reacting to the jab—just answered with a burp.
"Aren't you spoiling her a little too much, Eudoria?"
"Hehe, I don't really mind," she replied cheerfully.
"Besides, Phelle just woke up. She needs to eat plenty!"
"That's not the point. If this keeps up, we'll end up facing a food shortage like the other regions."
"Hey! That's going too far!"
I immediately shot up from my seat, protesting his words. I mean, sure, I've been eating a lot lately, but saying it'll cause a famine? That's just rude.
"Hehe, your father's only joking, Phelle."
"Tsk. If he's going to joke, at least try using a face that isn't made of stone like that."
Grumbling, I grabbed another glass of milk that Lyra had quietly placed on the table earlier. Meanwhile, Mother gestured for Alexion to sit beside her, making it three people now seated around the round table.
"I didn't expect you to come here, My Lord."
"Well, I did say I'd visit a few days ago."
"Perhaps it's fate that you arrived just as Phelle woke up."
"Maybe."
To me, they seemed like a very contrasting pair—the woman doing most of the talking, while the man spoke only when necessary.
And yet, in a way, they seemed to balance each other out.
An extrovert-introvert couple like this wasn't new to me. I'd seen plenty of them in my previous life—they were everywhere, really.
"So… how about you?" Alexion suddenly asked to me.
"About what?"
"Your health."
"Oh. Fine."
"I see."
"Yeah. That's it."
The exchange ended just like that, and awkward silence took over the room.
To be honest, I'd mostly been speaking with Eudoria—or my mother, I suppose over the past four days, mostly because she visited so often.
What made things even more troublesome was that she always brought gifts whenever she came. And those gifts were dolls—lots of them, in all kinds of styles. I mean… what am I supposed to do with all of that?
No matter how you look at it, my soul is still that of a grown man. So being expected to play with dolls is kind of…
Basically, I'd grown much closer to my so-called mother than to the man they claimed was my father. They said he rarely visited me anyway, so now that he actually showed up… I honestly had no idea how to act around him.
Behind it all, Mother simply watched our awkward exchange with a smile, saying nothing. Honestly, I wished she would at least join in and help ease the tension a little.
Trying not to think about it, I picked up my milk again and took a long, enthusiastic sip.
"Is the milk really that good?"
"Yeah."
"I see."
"Yep."
Hmm, this is getting ridiculous. I don't even know if it's my fault or his!
And Mom, stop just playing around with your folding hand fan!
Fine. If he's going to be this lazy, then I'll be the one to start. This is also a good chance for me to dig up more information. After all, information is valuable, especially in a world where the internet doesn't exist.
"Hey."
"What?"
"A lot of the servants call you Lord Markhal, even Lyra," I paused. "So… what exactly is a Markhal?"
Honestly, that's something I've been wondering about lately. I mean, it's clear this family isn't some average commoner household, no matter how you look at it. When I asked Lyra what kind of family I belonged to, she just said I was the child of a Lord Markhal but didn't really explain what that title meant.
So I figured this might be a good chance to ask directly.
"Why? Do you want it?"
"Eh… uh… not really."
What kind of question was that?
Why would he suddenly ask something like that so casually? I couldn't tell if he was joking or actually serious. If it was a joke, he really needed to work on his sense of humor.
Alexion tapped his index finger on the table a few times. He seemed to be thinking about something after hearing my question.
"Hmmm… well, I suppose sooner is better than later, especially since you missed a lot of formal lessons because of the coma," he said abruptly.
"It all started with the War of the Eight Monarchs."
"War of the Eight Monarchs? What's that?"
"A major war that happened around three decades ago back when I wasn't even two years old yet," Alexion explained. "Let me explain first. Don't interrupt."
"Ah… right. Sorry..."
Realizing that Alexion didn't like being interrupted mid-explanation, I decided to stay quiet and listen carefully.
He explained that the war started due to a power struggle in the Middleland region. In that region was a nation known as the Grand Duchy of Hoslein, a country with strong influence in Middleland and rich in silver mines. Eventually, the Grand Duchy faced a succession crisis, which drew the interest of two powerful states—the Aethelgard Empire and the Kingdom of Vreissia.
The Aethelgard Empire was an old power that had long existed, and had extended its dynastic influence throughout the Middleland region through political marriages. They saw Vreissia with their famous military reforms as a rising threat. Realizing this, Vreissia began a campaign to push back against Aethelgard's influence in the Middleland region.
After a series of escalating confrontations, war finally broke out, with both sides calling on their respective allies. According to Alexion, Palanthein had been a long-time ally of Aethelgard.
This war eventually became the stage where my grandfather made his name. He started out as the son of a commoner, with a father who was a mediocre lawyer living in the capital. My grandfather, however, had always been passionate about military books, so when the war broke out, he welcomed it and enlisted immediately.
"Your grandfather was an incredibly ambitious man, even with all the rotten aristocratic hierarchy standing in his way."
From the way Alexion spoke, I could tell he held his father in very high regard. Almost like he saw him as the ideal he aspired to.
He also explained how the military hierarchy at the time was completely unjust. Promotion to officer ranks was heavily skewed toward those of noble birth, often regardless of merit.
Still, my grandfather didn't give up. He worked as hard as he could. Eventually, when the war began exhausting the officer corps, the requirements were loosened, and my grandfather was finally promoted to captain, given command of his own company.
"And then came the turning point..."
For some reason, he smiled at that moment. His usually stiff and serious expression faded away. Maybe this was the part of the story he liked most.
Alexion folded his arms and continued with his eyes closed. "It happened during the second half of the war. At that time, Palanthein forces were assigned to hold off the Rovinska Empire to protect the eastern flank, while Aethelgard was busy fighting Vreissia in the west." He exhaled sharply. "The difference in strength was like heaven and earth. Palanthein was utterly defeated."
He opened his eyes and looked directly at me.
"Your grandfather's company was part of a battalion chosen to serve as the rearguard, while the main force retreated to regroup with Aethelgard's army. Eventually, their escape route was completely cut off. The nobleman who commanded the battalion panicked, then shamelessly fled leaving 800 men behind."
I held my breath. "And then?"
"Do you even understand what I'm telling you?"
"I do."
"I see. Cursed or not, it seems you still inherited the intelligence of the Del Korynth bloodline."
There was a sarcastic edge in his voice as he said that.
Last night, I had accidentally flipped to a page in one of the books that talked about "cursed children"—those with black hair and red eyes. So I understood what he was trying to say.
When I looked toward my mother, I saw her lips move silently. But I understood what she was saying.
It's okay, she said
Alexion picked up a cup of tea that Lyra had prepared earlier on the table. He sipped it gracefully before continuing the story.
"So, what happened in the end?" I asked with curiosity.
Once he finished and placed the cup back down, he resumed,
"As expected, the entire battalion was devastated, especially after hearing that their commander had fled. But... what did your grandfather do? He stood up on top of a powder wagon, completely exposed, raised his officer's sword and shouted, 'If death comes for us today, then so be it. But let's die like lions, not lambs. Make death wait a little longer for us!'"
"Wow..."
"Yes, that was the kind of man your grandfather was. To stand on a wagon full of gunpowder like that... But that wasn't the end of it." A wide smile spread across his face again. "Many of the men were inspired and morale returned. Your grandfather, knowing how to seize the moment, took command of the battalion and led a forced march accross the enemy territory. Fewer than 800 men, surrounded on all sides, under artillery fire. They moved in a square formation, crossing frozen rivers, with your grandfather at the very front."
"What a soldier..."
"In the end, he managed to save 327 troops. The impact was enormous once the story spread throughout the military. Even the king could not ignore his popularity, and in recognition, he was granted the title of Markhal, along with a land of the nobleman who had deserted his post and later died while fleeing."
"Ah, so that's how he got his title."
"Correct."
"But… that still doesn't answer my question about what the title Markhal actually means," I said, growing slightly annoyed that Alexion had been busy recounting his father's past rather than explaining the title itself.
"Markhal? It's just a throwaway title."
"Eh...? How could that be? You said Grandpa earned it through his bravery on the battlefield!"
"That's true. But that's exactly why," he looked straight at me, his stares dark as if holding back something bitter. "Markhal is a title that hasn't even lasted a full generation. It wasn't created to honor anyone. It was created to… give commoners who rose too high in the military a place to sit. It's like a fence, to keep them in line and prevent them from disturbing the pure-blood nobles."
I fell silent. Suddenly, it all made sense.
"If you're smart, you should've already guessed what happens when a commoner suddenly takes a seat at a table normally reserved for people who think they were born holier than others."
"...Ah."
No need to explain further. I understood. Gatekeeping.
Even if my grandfather had earned his title by walking across a bridge of death, blood, and mud, to them he would still always be an outsider.
And now I fully understood why, to my father, that title meant nothing. Markhal was simply a name too grand, used to box out the ones they didn't want in.
Back on Earth, gatekeeping by the nobility was a common practice throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, particularly within European monarchs.
"Okay, enooough!"
Mother, who had been quietly observing our conversation until now, suddenly stood up and placed both hands firmly on the table, bringing the discussion to a full stop.
"It's still morning. Can we not talk about politics?"
"She just woke up. That means she needs to understand how the world turns."
"I actually agree with him on this one, Mom."
"Ugh, you two really are too alike," she sighed. "But still, Phelle... don't call him him. Call him Father."
I turned to look at that man, Alexion. My father, or so they said. For some reason, the word "father" still felt weird on my tongue. Maybe it's because I didn't truly feel like part of this family yet. Or maybe because deep down, I knew things weren't that simple.
But when I saw Mother's expression filled with so much hope, I felt like I was being crushed by guilt.
I looked down for a moment, then opened my mouth.
"Father," I said quietly.
Alexion only gave a short glance and nodded slightly. No smile, no dramatic reaction. Yet oddly, I felt a little relieved.
Mother immediately beamed with joy, as if that tiny moment was the highlight of her entire morning.
"Good. That's much better," she said while patting my head.
In my previous life, I grew up in a city orphanage from childhood through my teen years. I never really knew what having parents felt like, although I never gave it much thought either.
"I want you to know," Alexion said suddenly, staring at me with that usual flat tone, "you need a tutor."
"...Huh?"
"It's been seven years since your brain got any use. That's more than enough time to make anyone an idiot," he added, straight-faced.
"Heh!? I'm not that dumb!"
Alexion only raised an eyebrow in silence.
Mother giggled softly, covering her mouth with her folding fan.
"Unfortunately, finding a good tutor is a bit difficult these days," Alexion continued. "Most have already been snatched up by the big noble families. The best scholars are all tied up in state duties or royal academies."
"Hmm..." Mother glanced at me, then gave a gentle smile. "In that case, maybe it's time I take matters into my own hands."
I looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"I used to be a tutor," Mother said proudly. "Before I got married and became the mother of a glutton like you."
"...Oh."
"People used to say I was too soft when teaching," she added with a light laugh, "but my students always got top marks, so I didn't care."
Alexion nodded slightly. "If it's you training her, at least she won't grow up stupid."
"...Wow, do really like call your own daughter stupid?"
Mother turned to Lyra and gestured. "Bring some writing tools and a few basic books. We'll begin once her stomach settles."
"A-ah, yes, My Lady!"
As I watched Lyra leave, I could only sigh and hang my head.
***
"That was quite surprising..."
Not wanting to interfere with his wife's tutoring session, Alexion left his daughter's room and walked through the manor's corridors with Aeson beside him.
As they walked, Alexion remained visibly surprised by his daughter. How could she understand military and political terms so easily? That question lingered in his mind.
"My Lord?" Aeson asked, noticing his murmuring.
"Hmm. It's nothing," said Alexion. "Aeson, don't you think it's strange? A child who's been in a coma for seven years acting like that? I mean, she went under at five years old. Good heavens."
Alexion himself had little memory of what Seraphelle was like at five. He had been too busy managing the administrative affairs of the region his father had expanded so successfully.
Still, it was strange. A child who went into a coma at five and woke up at twelve, yet spoke and acted with that level of intelligence?
"To be honest, My Lord," Aeson began, "I don't actually think it's strange."
"Hmm? Why's that?"
"Because she's your daughter."
"What's that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?"
"N-no, of course not."
Aeson had known Alexion since childhood, so he was well aware of his Lord's capabilities, inherited straight from his father. Unlike Alexion's older brother, who now served in the capital as a garrison officer, Alexion had always been the one with the sharper mind.
The two of them continued walking toward the workspave room, where mountains of paperwork awaited them. The kingdom's situation never allowed for a moment's rest.
On their way, they spotted a soldier wearing a confused expression, clearly searching for something. Alexion noticed and approached, hoping this wasn't another blunder like the previous days.
"What's the matter, grenadier?" Alexion asked the young man.
"My Lord!" The soldier looked startled to see him suddenly appear, but his face quickly shifted to relief.
"Aren't you the one assigned to the front gate? Why did you leave your post?"
"Forgive me, My Lord," said the young grenadier firmly. "But I was looking for you. A courier came with a letter addressed directly to you."
He carefully pulled a letter from his uniform pocket, clearly handling it with caution to avoid damaging it, and offered it to Alexion with proper respect.
Taking the letter, Alexion immediately recognized what it was, even without opening it.
"T-this is the royal family's seal..."
His shock was not without reason. The envelope bore the crest of the royal family, beautifully embossed with luxurious symbols. What truly shocked him was the fact that the royal family had gone out of their way to contact him at all.
"Where's the courier now?"
"He already left, My Lord. He said he still had more deliveries to make."
"I see. You may return to your post now."
"Yes, My Lord!"
The grenadier saluted sharply and left, heading back to his guard station.
"The fact that the courier was in such a rush… It might be something urgent, My Lord," said Aeson.
"That's what I'm thinking too. Even though the kingdom's been in crisis for some time now."
Without bothering to return to his workspace first, Alexion ripped open the envelope without noble etiquette when he open that thing. Inside was a formal letter, expressing the king's sorrow at the kingdom's worsening situation. The message called upon nobles, clergy, and commoners alike to form a assembly titled:
"The Assembly of the Three Pillars?"