The day had started before the sun was even fully awake.
Soren hadn't even finished rubbing the sleep from his eyes before the servants flooded in through the empty doorway.
From that point on, his morning was no longer his own.
Every movement he made was guided.
He was pushed into a tub filled with bath salts and oils and meticulously washed from head to toe, the servants ignoring any embarrassment he felt.
His hair was washed twice, dried carefully with magic, then combed over and over until it shimmered like strands of snow under light.
A group of servants argued quietly over which outfit would be most fitting.
Another stood ready with trays of accessories, holding them up one by one for Sofia's approval.
He didn't even get the chance to sigh before a gloved hand pulled him toward a chair.
Makeup came next.
The familiar brush of powder against his skin didn't bother him.
He had done this countless times before, back when he worked as a model.
The routine was something he was used to; he just didn't expect to be doing it here, in the Arden mansion, surrounded by servants who despised him, yet treated his face like fragile glass.
His reflection stared back at him from the mirror.
Snow-white hair brushed just above his shoulders.
Crimson eyes that caught the light like gemstones.
His features were sharp yet soft, an androgynous beauty that made it hard to tell whether he looked more like a nobleman or a noblewoman.
Beneath his left eye rested a small beauty mark, mirrored by another beneath the corner of his lips on the right side.
The makeup made him look even more flawless, almost inhuman.
His gentle eyes looked even warmer with the subtle eyeliner and mascara.
His cheeks, still somewhat round and soft, were lightly painted pink under the brush.
A slight hint of rouge was placed upon his lips, highlighting the contrast between his light hair and red eyes.
He wasn't sure whether to be impressed or unnerved.
He leaned closer, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest, the way his reflection seemed to breathe with him.
"...It's tiring," he muttered.
The outfit they had chosen was a blend of eras.
A high-collared white shirt layered beneath a tailored dark vest, trimmed with silver threads that shimmered faintly when light touched them.
The outer coat, long and wine-red, was embroidered with intricate patterns along the cuffs, each glowing faintly.
It was formal yet practical, modern in its cut but undeniably noble in its aura.
Even the buttons were polished silver, etched with the Arden family crest.
He tugged slightly at his collar.
'Too tight.'
Soren exhaled, then pushed his chair back and stood.
The floor beneath his boots reflected light faintly, the flooring cleaned to perfection.
The servants had finally left, leaving behind only the faint scent of perfume and powder.
For a long moment, he stared at himself in the mirror again.
He looked perfect, exactly how Sofia wanted him to appear.
And yet, somehow, it didn't feel like him.
He had gotten used to his own appearance in the time since transmigration, and with the original's memories added to that, he felt no sense of dissonance with his own appearance anymore.
But he still felt off.
He ran a hand through his silky-smooth hair, then turned toward the sink.
The sound of running water broke the silence as he washed his hands.
The coolness against his skin grounded him, washing away the last remnants of fatigue and powder.
A part of him was tempted to mess with Sofia by undoing all of her changes to his appearance, but he resisted, as he would be the only one to suffer if he did so.
He dried his pale hands on a soft towel before placing it neatly on the counter.
His reflection looked back one more, his expression calm and unreadable, just as he had learned from the Soren of his memories: the face of a noble.
The announcement gathering was set to begin soon.
With a quiet sigh, Soren left the dressing room.
The hallway outside was long, lined with tall windows that let sunlight spill across the polished floor.
The distant sound of music drifted faintly through the walls.
It was the kind of tune nobles liked to play when pretending they enjoyed one another's company.
He followed the sound, his steps steady.
Servants bowed as he passed, whispering among themselves after he walked by.
The air grew warmer as he neared the hall, and the chatter of gathered guests became clearer.
The grand hall of the Arden mansion was designed to impress.
Tall ceilings stretched high above, chandeliers gleaming with lights powered by mana stones.
The floor was marble, the colour of pale moonlight, and long tables lined the room, filled with delicacies and wine glasses that shimmered red in the afternoon sun.
The air itself was heavy with perfume and pretence.
Soren paused just before the tall double doors that led inside.
Two servants stood on either side, their posture straight and perfect.
One gave a slight nod before signalling to the herald standing nearby.
A breath caught in Soren's throat.
It wasn't nerves, it was just exhaustion.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders once to shake it off.
His expression hardened, immaculately replicating the one from his memories.
The doors opened.
"Announcing. Lord Soren Arden, son of the Arden Family."
The moment he stepped inside, every conversation in the hall faltered.
Heads turned, and eyes followed.
He had expected the attention, after all, this was the Arden family's event, and he was the subject of the announcement, but the intensity of their stares felt heavy.
Whispers spread like wildfire among the guests, too soft for him to hear clearly, but loud enough to notice.
Their eyes flickered over him; his appearance, his expression, his posture, the way he moved.
Some smiled politely, others narrowed their eyes in quiet judgment.
Soren ignored them all.
He walked straight ahead, calm and collected, his steps measured on the marble floor.
Every sound, whether it was the clink of glasses or the faint shift of silk gowns, seemed to fade as he passed by.
He didn't know it, but the rumours about him had been spreading for weeks, ever since summer break began.
About the eldest son of the Ardens, who spoke like a commoner.
About the eldest son of the Ardens, who didn't behave like a proper noble.
About the eldest son of the Ardens, who was rumoured to be a playboy who flew too close to the sun.
None of it reached him, of course.
He had been locked up for the past two weeks, under the constant watchful eye of the servants and his own family.
But Soren didn't care for social games or gossip; all he wanted was to get through the event without collapsing from sheer fatigue.
A servant offered him a glass of wine as he passed.
He took it wordlessly, swirling the crimson liquid once before taking a small sip.
The taste was rich and smooth, clearly chosen to impress the guests.
He found an empty seat near the far corner of the hall, away from the centre of attention.
From there, he could observe without being trapped in meaningless conversation and mind games.
He leaned back slightly, letting his gaze drift across the room.
Laughter echoed from one side, polite chatter from another.
Musicians played near the stage, their pricey instruments humming softly under their skilled hands.
All of it felt distant.
He took another sip of wine.
The glass caught the light, his eyes reflecting in the liquid, crimson against crimson.
The gathering had only just begun, and already, he wanted it to be over.
He lamented the fact that his quest had ended only this morning.
If it had ended sooner, he might have been able to escape before it progressed this far, but alas, it was too late.
Soren ran his fingers around the edge of the glass, causing a light humming sound.
'It's annoying.'
He could feel the intense gazes of the nobles in the hall on him as they pretended to be occupied.
He knew they were just waiting for their opportunity, and it bothered him.
Although he was now aware of how nobles should talk and act, thanks to the memories, he couldn't be bothered to change himself in that way.
He didn't care if they looked down on him for it; he would remain himself until the end.
————「❤︎」————