I felt an inexplicable sensation inside my body the moment the light appeared in his hands. When I saw the runes of the spell, I couldn't help but feel close to them.

Maybe it was because it was the first time I saw magic and my body was naturally not used to it, maybe it was a normal feeling for any inhabitant of this world, and the only reason I felt like this was because I had early consciousness age, but the point remained that the feeling of familiarity and connection with those runes was something strong and certain.

I wasn't going to make the stupid mistake of not analyzing and memorizing the witch's movements. Still, realistically it was impossible for me to do something like that with the simple movement of my hands. It would be ridiculous for magic to be so simple. Surely there were chanting and silent methods of conjuring, which meant that the woman who had welcomed me into this world was an experienced witch...

The witch seemed to have more spells up her sleeve, because as she moved closer to my mother and placed her hand on her heart, a dark light surrounded the witch's fingers. When she withdrew his hand from her, it seemed that this dark light was absorbing a white thread that represented all my mother's discomfort. The sweat and pale color of her skin were washed away by that light.

“Healing magic and recovery magic, I see… In theory they sound similar, but apparently in practice they are different.”

I understood the basics of spells, but only through common sense; something that any human being with half a brain was capable of doing.

"With this, it does not mean that I possess talent for magic. I will not be so ignorant as to delude myself and believe that I understand what is happening, arrogance could be my downfall at a moment as critical as this. For now, I must see and learn."

My reasoning was simply and far from perceiving myself as someone wise and vain, I just wanted to stay out of the miserable cycle of self-centeredness and fall prey to my ineptitude. I wasn't a hero, let alone the chosen one, but for some reason I still couldn't understand, I had been reincarnated. It was up to me to decide if I wanted to value or waste this second chance.

* * *

Three weeks had passed since the day I came into this world. One might think that a baby's life is as simple and linear as a dog's existence without responsibilities; besides eating and sleeping, but the truth was very different.

Day after day I received a visit from Darian, my language teacher. I spent two hours in the morning listening to how a guy pronounced the words as if he was talking to a retard. However, make no mistake, I appreciated his time, because it was thanks to him that little by little I understood much better how to fit in the body of a newborn.

During the afternoon after my nap, Gwendolyn would arrive to teach me about general etiquette. There really wasn't much value in her lessons, mainly because I just sat there watching her talk with the energy of a seven-year-old while she gesticulated in ways she thought a baby would be comfortable with. Still, I naturally learned what she taught me, I just didn't value it as much.

Lastly, after dinner in the evenings, the maids took care of me due to my parents' busy schedule. You may be wondering, what's wrong with being taken care of by who is supposed to take care of you?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Well, maybe if you were in my place and your cheeks were pawed at all the time while they kiss you to death and make you point to the cutest maid while they fight each other over the one who's going to pick you up, you'd understand my mental exhaustion.

But between all that empty time in the morning, noon, and night, I had all the time I needed to meditate on my action plan.

At no time had I questioned my race; I mean, considering that this world is a magical one, typical races like elves, dwarves, and even orcs were to be expected. But the moment I learned that I had been born into royalty, I realized that there was no way there could be any mixing of blood.

My human baby body was normal, nothing different from an ordinary Earth baby. The only thing that had changed was my family.

Although I didn't remember much about my past, I could be pretty sure that in my other life I wasn't the son of kings... Although I momentarily had no access to written records about this world, its kingdoms, history, cultures and civilizations, the number of luxuries and the massive size of this place made me think that more than a house or a mansion, I was in a castle.

On the other hand, there was also magic. The source of all my worries and uncertainties.

If I turned out to have no magical talent, the chances of losing my place as heir to the throne also dropped massively. The good thing was that I could hide my lack of intelligence through the typical childish ignorance of a baby. People would patiently explain things to me, which would make the learning process extremely easier..

For now, I thought my top priorities were two:

1: Learn as much as possible about this world, like its laws and people.

2: Learn about magic.

If I had to choose one of the two, it would be like an idiot not to choose the second option. For example, if I turned out to have no innate talent for magic, I could start learning the fundamentals from it at an early age and overcome the talent with effort, discipline, and most of all, obsession.

My potential was not going to be eternal and immortal, my growth had a limit. And while the vessel that stores knowledge may not know a bottom, it wasn't to say that I could take my adult advantage on a baby's developing brain lightly.

If I used my cards well, I didn't have to measure myself against talented people, let alone prodigies. I would be much better than any magician if I had the necessary obsession and discipline.

Every day near someone I read their movements, analyzing their attitudes and remembering their faces; in the future, all those around me could stand in my way to the top, becoming my enemies...

But at least for now, during my spare time, I could put what little I knew about magic into practice.

The recovery spell and the healing spell. In that order they had to be learned, the reason was simple.

No matter what I was going to learn, my body did not have the same strength as my mind, therefore, my body had a much closer and more visible limit. If I was physically tired, my mental strength was meaningless. So if I learned the recovery spell, I could undergo any strenuous training and be victorious. I could spend sleepless nights while learning, because while someone might argue that my mind would reach a limit where it couldn't take any more, that was only if we were talking about someone normal.

I was by no means a normal person.

Even so, and despite all my plan, each of my attempts ended in resounding failure. I couldn't feel a spark of magic inside my body. It was as if it was completely empty.

If my theory that there were verbal and non-verbal methods of casting magic was correct, then it might be much easier to cast using the verbal method.

You may be wondering why I don't immediately accept the second option as fact, since considering that imagination is easier to manipulate than finding the right words, I thought the general rule was to see a spell in your head —a ball of fire, for example—, and conjure it.

But that was not all, if I was right in the method, then it could be said that all my efforts were practically useless. Because no matter how hard you try to imagine the fireball, if you never knew the "magic words", you could never learn to conjure.

My new life seemed like a complete failure.

In addition, I had not yet learned to control my motor skills. So I also had to deal with my own waste, although the silk diaper certainly absorbed everything perfectly, it was hard to concentrate.

Luckily, it seemed like that maternal instinct really was a thing, because whenever I felt "bad", my mother came to me immediately. We could be one at each end of the castle and she would come running towards me leaving whatever she was doing to answer my non-existent call.

I didn't know my real mother, and as cruel as it might sound, after meeting Queen Emilia von Delacroix, I didn't know if I really wanted to meet her.

Emilia was a woman with limitless love, she seemed to place her position as a mother over that of a ruler, which seemed strange to me. Her affection for me was something that I did not see giving her three other children of hers, she seemed to have a little impartial love and it was something that I did not dislike at all. She made me feel loved and in her arms, she made me feel protected.

Without realizing it, I began to develop a real need for her love and an authentic mother-son bond.