Chapter 8: The Weight of a Promise

  The Sinclair Estate smelled of expensive incense and polished mahogany.

  As Ren entered the home and followed Aliza through the grand hallway, his boots felt too loud on the marble floors. Every room they passed was a masterpiece: vaulted ceilings with gold-leaf trim, paintings that cost more than a village, and statues carved from pure white jade. The house didn’t just look beautiful; it looked unreachable.

  They reached the dining room—a massive hall with a table long enough to host a small army. Yui was already sitting there, looking tiny in her large velvet chair. The Butler stood perfectly still against the wall, like a silent shadow waiting for her command.

  As soon as Ren walked in, Yui’s eyes lit up like stars.

  “BIG BROTHER!” she screamed. She scrambled out of her chair and sprinted across the room, throwing her arms around his waist in a bone-crushing hug.

  Aliza returned to her seat at the table.

  Ren looked down at her, his hands hovering awkwardly. “Hi… hi, Yui.”

  “Ren, why did you stay away?” Yui cried into his shirt. “Please don’t leave again! I’m sorry for whatever I did! I won’t do it again, I promise! If it’s my fault, I’ll be better! Just… don’t go!”

  Ren felt a sharp stab of guilt. He looked into her tear-filled eyes. He reached out and gently patted her head.

  “I… I’m sorry,” Ren said awkwardly. “I won’t leave you again.”

  Yui sniffled, looking at him hopefully. “You… you promise?”

  “Yes,” Ren said, offering an awkward smile. “I promise. But only if you stop crying.”

  Yui rubbed her eyes, the fatigue of the long day finally catching up to her. “Okay, big brother,” she chirped, her voice brightening. “Let’s go play in my room!”

  Ren looked at Yui not knowing how to reply, as he opened his mouth to say okay he was cut out by Aliza.

  “If you want to play, you must finish your food first,” Aliza said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a weight that made the air in the room feel thicker.

  Yui slumped back into her chair, her lower lip trembling into a pout. She looked at the half-eaten meal in front of her. “But I want to play with Ren now! Can’t it wait until tomorrow?

  “No it can’t,” Aliza replied simply, her gaze steady. She turned her head slowly, her eyes locking onto Ren. He felt a cold sweat prickle at his hairline. “And as for you… please, go take a bath. You don’t smell very pleasant.”

  Ren’s face went hot. He froze in a state of embarrassed shock, his hand instinctively flying to his armpit to give himself a subtle sniff. Huh? I don’t smell that bad, do I? he thought, panicking.

  “Valerius,” Aliza called out, “please have a bath prepared specifically for Ren.”

  “At once, my lady,” Valerius replied with a crisp bow before disappearing from the room like a shadow.

  Aliza leaned back, her silk sleeves rustling against the wood of her chair. She watched Ren with a weary, knowing smile. “Now, while the water is being prepared, what would you like to eat? And please,” she added, her voice dropping to a plea, “I know you enjoy it, but please choose something other than curry.”

  Ren blinked. Wait, how did she- His mind hit confusion as he remembered that the body he was using did not belong to him. I guess the Ren of this world must have liked curry too. Well there’s another thing we have in common. He thought “Anything would be fine, really,” Ren said aloud.

  Aliza paused, and looked at Ren with both confusion and delight. “Wait. You’re not going to fight me? You’re not going to explain—for the hundredth time—why curry is the supreme dish and the only thing worthy of your palate?”

  Ren felt a drop of sweat roll down his neck. He forced a stiff, awkward shrug. “Uh, no. Not today. I’m… uh.”

  “Ren! Ren! Come sit next to me we can eat this together!” Yui shouted, breaking the tension as she waved a small, silver fork toward her own plate.

  Ren looked over, grateful for the distraction. Yui was working her way through a stack of Star-Berry Crepes. They were thin and golden-brown, folded neatly and oozing a thick, snowy-white cream. Scattered across the top were small, glowing blue berries that seemed to pulse with light. Every time her fork touched one, it gave off a faint tsss sound, like carbonated candy hitting a tongue.

  “Okay,” Ren said, finding his voice. “I’ll… just have what she’s having. It looks… good.”

  “Yay! Come sit, I’ll feed you a bite!” Yui cheered, already scooping up a messy glob of cream and fruit.

  “Ren will eat his own crepes, Yui. Don’t be unrefined,” Aliza corrected, though her eyes softened. Valerius stepped back into the room at that exact moment, his timing perfect. “Ah, Valerius, right on cue. Sorry to send you off again, but please ask the chefs to prepare another plate of Star-Berry Crepes for Ren.”

  “Of course, my lady,” the butler bowed and vanished once more.

  “Ren, in the meantime,” Aliza said, gesturing toward the door, “please go bathe.”

  Ren nodded quickly. He hurried out into the hallway, the heavy oak doors thudding shut behind him with a muffled boom.

  He walked for a few paces, his boots echoing against the high ceilings, before he came to a dead stop.

  Wait. I have no idea where the bathroom is.

  He looked around frantically until he spotted a maid—the same one who had been there when he first woke up in this house. She had silver hair tied back in a strict, professional bun and wore a crisp black-and-white uniform that looked like it hadn’t a single wrinkle.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Ah, I can ask her.

  “Uhh, excuse me?” Ren called out.

  The maid froze and turned around to see who had called out to her. She snapped into a perfectly straight posture, then dropped into a deep, disciplined curtsy, “Good evening, Young Master Ren,” she said, her voice calm and soft.

  She stood back up, and looked at him with a smile. Her gaze went from his eyes then switching to the floor firmly on the floor.

  “Y-yeah. Hi. Evening,” Ren stammered, his eyes darting back and forth. He noticed she wasn’t looking at him at all. He followed her gaze, looking down at the floor to see if he had dropped something or if there was a bug. Nothing but clean, polished wood.

  “Um, sorry,” Ren asked, his social anxiety bubbling to the surface, “but… why are you looking at the floor?”

  The maid flinched. Then looked back up to Ren with a smile that seemed to lift the mood in the air Ren immediately regretted opening his mouth.

  Ren’s face turned shyly away. “Or—forget that!” Ren blurted out, “The bath. Where is it?”

  The maid’s eyes widened, her voice small and beautiful. “Of course, Young Master. It would be my honor. Please, follow me.”

  Ren followed the maid through the winding hallways up a staircase until she stopped before a pair of heavy, ornate doors. “It’s right here, Lord Ren,” she said with a polite bow. “The water is prepared just how you like it.”

  Ren stepped inside and the door clicked shut. He froze. The bathroom was massive—it was bigger than the entire room he’d lived in back in Ota carrying the scent of expensive oils. He stood there for a moment, the silence of the room feeling heavy.

  This is all really different, he thought, his chest tightening. I never thought I’d be experiencing a place like this… or that it would ever happen to me. All this that I have now… it’s not mine. He looked down at his hands. I keep forgetting this isn’t my body. Is what I’m doing even right?

  He then sighed and slowly began to peel off the layers of his clothing. He wrapped a small towel around his waist, feeling exposed even though he was alone. That’s when he saw it: a mirror that stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling.

  He stopped dead. He stared at his reflection. The muscle on this body was unreal—from the massive biceps to the lean, chiseled six-pack on his stomach.

  “Damn,” he muttered, his voice echoing off the tiles. “This guy must have worked out a lot. Well, I guess he is an adventurer…so having all this muscle is a must.”

  He turned away from the mirror, feeling like a fraud, and walked over to the bath and saw a wooden bucket, he took it and then got close to the faucet that wasn’t the normal faucet he was used to it was a magical plumbing system with crystal knobs and metal faucets enchanted with water-conjuration and temperature-control runes embedded into them.

  He turned the left faucet, letting warm water pour into the basin. Ren allowed it to fill halfway before turning it off.

  He looked at the bar of soap sitting on the basin hesitating to take it each time his has came closer to it he second guessed himself on whether he should take it or not.

  He finally built up the courage to take it and then sat down on the small wooden stool and began to wash himself—scrubbing his arms, legs, and chest, then started lathering his hair.

  The water felt good, almost helping him relax and think.

  Then, the door creaked open.

  The maid stepped inside, closing it softly behind her. “Um… Lord Ren?”

  “Oh, sorry!” Ren called out. “I’m nearly done!”

  Then it hit him. She was inside the room. He froze, his heart slamming against his ribs like a trapped bird. He jerked his head around to look at her, and his foot slipped on the wet tiles as he tried to stand.

  THUD.

  Ren fell off the stool, landing hard on his backside. He turned pale, his face going from white to a bright, panicked red as he gripped the towel around his waist with white-knuckled hands.

  “Wha… what are you doing?!” he stammered, his voice jumping an octave.

  The maid looked startled. “Oh! Sorry, but… I came to wash your back.”

  “No… no! Please!” Ren scrambled backward, his mind short-circuiting. “I… I can do it by myself! Please, just get out!”

  The maid hesitated, her head tilting. “Are you sure? I—”

  “Ye… YES!” Ren cut her off, his eyes darting around the room for an exit. “I’ll be alright! Please, just leave, okay?”

  “Sor… sorry for the disturbance,” she whispered, looking confused. She gave a quick bow and hurried out, the door clicking shut behind her.

  The silence returned, but Ren wasn’t relaxed anymore. He curled up into a ball right there on the cold floor, hitting his head repeatedly against the tiles. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Okay… okay, Ren, calm down, he told himself, his thoughts racing. She just came in while you were bathing. Why would she do that? Who does that?!

  He stood up, his legs shaking, and practically climbing into the bath to hide. He sat there, trying to collect his scattered thoughts, but the “luxury” was gone. He suddenly noticed the water wasn’t warm —it felt cold.

  Ren sat there and thought. Why is it so cold. “Okay… I think I’m done for the night,” he muttered.

  Ren got out of the bath and stood in the middle of the bathroom drying himself off.

  He scrambled to pull on his underwear. He was halfway through when a sharp, rhythmic knock echoed off the marble tiles.

  Ren’s heart leaped. He fumbled with the fabric, his voice catching. “I—I don’t need help! I’m fine!” he called out, his voice cracking slightly with a high-pitched soft but loud enough for the person on the other side to hear him.’

  “I beg your pardon, my Lord,” the voice replied—calm, steady, and entirely unfazed. It was Valerius. “Lady Aliza requested that I bring you a fresh, clean set of attire. May I enter to set them down?”

  Ren froze, his mind racing. Huh… yeah. Valerius. That was his name, right? He looked at the heavy door, then at his damp, discarded clothes. “Uh, okay! I’ll take them! Just—stay there please.”

  Ren hurried to the door, opening it just a crack—barely enough to stick an arm through. Valerius stood there, perfectly poised, holding a neatly folded stack of fabric. He handed them over with a slight, respectful inclination of his head.

  “Thank you,” Ren muttered, quickly snatching the clothes and shutting the door with a firm click.

  He unfolded the garments on a marble bench. He was presented with a crisp white linen shirt, a tailored midnight-blue waistcoat, and slim black trousers. Ren ran a hand over the fabric. ”This stuff is really soft… but weirdly heavy too,” he whispered.

  Once dressed, he spent a frantic few minutes cleaning the small mess he made on the floor and stepped back out into the hallway.

  When he returned to the dining room, the atmosphere had shifted. Yui was gone, likely whisked away to bed by a maid. Aliza was still there, sitting at the head of the table, though she had moved on to a book.

  Ren slid into his seat, where his tray of Star-Berry Crepes sat waiting under a silver dome. Valerius appeared out of the shadows, reaching forward to lift the lid for him, but Ren beat him to it.

  Clink.

  Ren lifted the lid himself, his movements stiff and jerky. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the plate, refusing to make eye contact with the butler or his sister. He felt like an intruder at his own table.

  Aliza closed her book with a soft thud and stood up. “You may finish your food, Ren. Then go straight to bed.”

  She began to walk toward the double doors, her silk dress whispering against the floor. Just as she reached the exit, she stopped. She didn’t turn around at first.

  “And Ren?”

  Ren looked up, his fork halfway to a blue berry. Aliza turned her head, a smile spreading across her face. It was a beautiful smile, but It didn’t reach her eyes—it was the kind of smile that promised a very long, very painful conversation if things went wrong.

  “Don’t try sneaking out. Okay?”

  Ren felt a chill go down his spine that was colder than the bathwater. He then shifted his focus back to his food.

  Aliza nodded once, satisfied, and vanished into the hall.

  Ren sat in the massive, silent room, finally alone. Or, as alone as he could be with Valerius standing six feet away, hiding his presence so perfectly that he might as well have been a statue. Ren took a bite of the crepe, but he couldn’t taste the sugar. He just stared at the empty doorway, wondering how he was going to survive three days in a house that felt more like a prison than a home.