Edaroc's voice turned somber. "If he still refuses, then I can only afford to keep our family and the household staff inside the city walls. We simply don't have the gold to pay for the whole village..."

  Lidoroc snorted. "Hah... You are still way too soft-hearted! Just like always. I say, let them fend for themselves. They're commoners, not nobles!"

  Edaroc glared at his brother again, before he just shook his head.

  Alden nodded slowly. His muddled memories didn't give him any clear picture of Garitus City beyond what his father said, but the logic was simple enough—with monsters coming in winter and no safe refuge in the fortress city, a lot of villagers wouldn't survive till the spring. “I hope the Duke agrees,” he said quietly.

  Edaroc gave a short nod, eyes distant, probably already thinking about his upcoming trip. He took a long sip from his goblet as everyone got busy enjoying the feast.

  Alden had been eating quietly for a while when Caelen nudged him.

  “You should’ve seen what I was reading today,” Caelen said in a quick whisper, the words tumbling over each other. “The scribe from Garitus wrote that in the past few winters, more and more monsters are pushing down from the north and northeast. It’s worse than it’s been in decades.”

  “Is this from one of those books you'd stolen when I met you on the staircase—the ones father doesn’t let you read?” Alden asked.

  “What? No…” Caelen’s eyes dropped to the table. "Well... maybe."

  Alden smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him.”

  Caelan grinned, before his youthful face became serious. “They say all kinds of monsters have been coming in the last few years after the snow starts falling. Not just the small ones, either. There was a story of one beast with—” he spread his hands wide “—horns as big as a wagon.”

  Alden broke a piece of bread and dipped it into his stew. Steam rose from the bowl, carrying the smell of herbs and fat. He hadn’t yet seen any of the monsters himself—apart from the memories of some smaller ones the original Alden had witnessed before everyone left for the fortress city last year—but the fear of them was too consistent to be just a legend. People didn’t abandon their homes for months unless the threat was real. “That’s why we need to secure space for everyone in Garitus City,” he said. “Don't worry, I’m sure father will manage it.”

  Caelen paused, then gave a reluctant half-smile. “Yeah. But a few days ago, father was also saying that we might have to leave early this year. Scouts at the northeastern outpost have spotted even more monsters in the northern lands than last winter.”

  Alden sobered, chewing slowly. Monsters. Not stories in this world. Not tall tales in books. But something real and deadly, moving ever closer with the cold. He forced himself to swallow the thought with his stew. “We’ll be safe in Garitus City,” he said, trying to reassure his brother, knowing Lira had been listening carefully to their conversation from across the table, while only pretending to eat.

  The table settled into silence again, filled only with the soft clatter of wooden spoons and the low crackle of fire as everyone tried their best to finish the small feast in front of them.

  Before long, Lira was only pushing her bread around her plate with a fork. She took a last sip of stew before setting her spoon down with a tiny clatter. Her shoulders drooped.

  “I want to sleep now...” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire. “I’m tired...”

  Alden’s chest tightened. He hadn’t had siblings in his old life, but this body remembered what she meant to him. “You've barely eaten anything... Wait, I heard Hilda's made a pie. Don't you love it?”

  "I'll eat it in my room..." she muttered and looked up at the maid standing nearby.

  "Lira—" Alden began to speak again, but she was already turning to the maid beside her, who slipped an arm around her shoulders and helped her to her feet. Lira leaned heavily against her as they made for the stairs, her small frame sagging with every step. He watched reluctantly until they disappeared from view.

  When he looked around, Edaroc’s eyes lingered on the empty seat. His jaw worked once before he reached for the wine to refill his goblet. Alden could understand some of his worries—the older son on the verge of death for so long, the younger son only being interested in books instead of training to become a knight in the future, while the daughter was far too weak at an age when she should be jumping around with energy.

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  Beside the baron, Lidoroc moved for another slab of meat, with his plate already piled high. Grease glistened on his fingers as he tore a huge bite with his teeth, oblivious to anything beyond the food.

  Alden forced down another spoonful of stew, though the taste had turned flat.

  The rest of the meal passed in quieter tones. Caelen still whispered to him about books between mouthfuls of soup when he thought no one else was listening. Hilda brought out the pie at last—dark crust, the sweet-sour scent of berries filling the hall. Even Edaroc’s sternness eased as he accepted a slice, though Lidoroc had already seized two before anyone else had their share.

  When the platters were cleared and servants carried away the last dishes, Alden rose and excused himself. The fire was still blazing, but weariness pulled at his limbs.

  He made his way upstairs, walking past his siblings' rooms on the second floor. From Lira’s room came faint sounds—footsteps, a soft voice, the creak of floorboards. Probably the maid settling her in. He hesitated by the door, tempted to check on her, but stopped himself. She needed rest, and so did he.

  His room met him with quiet and the scent of lavender sprigs tucked into the rafters. He sat on the edge of the bed, unlacing the boots that weren’t truly his, feeling the rough linen sheets beneath his hands.

  Before long, he lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling beams.

  This was a dangerous world—monsters that prowled near villages nearly all year long, winters that brought much worse. But here, in the safety of the baron’s manor in Sarnok, at least there was food on the table. Servants who laughed and prayed for their lord’s son. A brother who hoarded books like treasure, and wanted to use that knowledge to help others. A frail sister who clung to his arm with trust. And a father whose hand, heavy and callused, had steadied his shoulder.

  Even if he didn’t belong—even if his memories were a patchwork of two lives—he wasn’t alone in this world.

  He let his eyes close, grateful for that small mercy. After that lorry hit him in London, he could have woken up as a beggar on the street, face-to-face with a starving monster, or not at all... Instead, he had found a loving family, a roof over his head, and a second chance at life.

  Sleep found him with that thought, and for the first time since awakening in this world, his body relaxed fully into rest.

  ***

  Alden woke up to a thin shaft of sunlight cutting across the floorboards, the kind that told him the morning had already slipped past. The manor was alive downstairs—he could hear the clatter of pots and the low rumble of men’s voices drifting through the window. His head still felt heavy, but at least yesterday's recurring ache wasn’t there anymore.

  Stretching lazily, he walked to the window and opened it fully. The air that rushed in smelled of damp ground, bread being baked, and the sour tang of manure from the stables. Nothing like London. He shut the window again and pulled on the coarse linen clothes someone had left folded at the foot of the bed.

  The hallway outside was busy. A servant boy spotted him first, nearly tripping over himself as he carried a basket of unwashed clothes. “Lord Alden, the majordomo’s waiting in the main hall. He said to send you there as soon as you woke up,” the boy said hurriedly, before he rushed to the stairwell.

  Alden nodded and followed him down the stairs, every step making the smell of smoke and cooked broth stronger. Reaching the main hall, he found it mostly empty, apart from a group of guards sitting and eating together at a trestle table near the fireplace.

  Vusato was sitting alone at another table near the kitchen doorway, a ledger opened in front of him. His brow was creased, lips tight as if he were working through numbers he didn’t like. When Alden came in, Vusato snapped the book shut and looked him over from head to toe. His shoulders dropped, like a man who’d been holding them stiff for too long.

  “You finally got up,” Vusato said with a smile. “The baron's already left for Garitus City though.”

  Alden stopped short. “What, this early?” That's when he remembered that he didn't exactly wake up early today. Thankfully, the majordomo didn't comment on it.

  “He set out just after dawn," Vusato replied. “Didn’t want to wake you up—said it was better to let you rest." He shut the ledger close. "As usual, you’re the one in charge here until he comes back.”

  That last part landed heavier than Alden expected. He glanced toward the empty head of the central table in the hall—where the baron ate when he had things to manage and didn't have time to eat with his family—then back at Vusato. “In charge?”

  Vusato gave a small shrug, rubbing the edge of his ledger with his thumb. “You know how it works when the baron’s away. The heir steps in." He frowned. "You seem, uh... different than usual. You still feeling tired or dizzy?”

  "No, no, I'm fine." Alden shook his head, trying to keep his face steady. His stomach turned at the idea of anyone expecting him to run things. He was meant to be just a low-level engineer working hard for a promotion, dammit! Sure, he had led a few small teams for some projects back in London, but how was he supposed to run a whole village as a baron, even if temporarily!

  He took a deep breath, as he sat on the nearby bench. It didn't matter what he did on Earth. He was in Sarnok now, and he had to deal with the fact that he was the heir of a barony here, whether he liked it or not.

  “Right. Okay. How did he leave? Did he have enough protection?”

  Vusato nodded. "They're riding horses. But don't worry, he has taken four guards with him—including Kirol—who's our best fighter after the guard captain Roderic. Your uncle Lidoroc is also with him."

  Alden grimaced. He wasn't sure if having Lidoroc next to his father was a good idea or a bad one. But perhaps he was just imagining things. "Why didn't he take Roderic with him?"