Two guards donned in full armor, minus the helmet, opened the double doors. Father strode in, carrying a thick stack of papers tucked under his arm. The doors closed gradually after he stepped through, ending it with a soft click.

I looked expectantly at Mother, wondering when she would start her scolding. Knowing her, harsh would be the gentlest option she’d consider. But instead, Mother kept staring at Father, who stared right back.

Their facial muscles were unflinching, it was like a staring contest.

The silence was thick you could cut it with a butter knife. Finally, Father cleared his throat.

“Sorry, it took a while, Reyna. Unfortunately, I can’t find anything on this man,” he said, his voice heavy. “I searched every record of the servants we have, and as expected, he wasn’t in any of them. I also looked through the criminal records, but he wasn’t in there either.”

Mother’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing,” he echoed, “But I did try something, it was the reason I arrived late in the first place.” Father placed the stacks of paper on Mother’s desk with a resounding thud. “This is a collection of what the servants have gathered from our neighbors.”

Wait, that’s what he was doing this whole time? I had assumed he was off in his office, waiting for Mother’s temper to wear down… So he was reliable after all.

It was then I realized I had quite a bad impression of Father. Where did that come from? I shouldn’t disrespect him like that, really.

Mother browsed through the papers, I skimmed through them from the sides reading them myself. As Father said, these were all written reports by the servants who went around asking our fellow aristocratic neighbors, or at least their servants, if they had seen a tall muscular gentleman who claimed to be a butler named ‘Sebastian’.

The reports all said the same thing, they never saw such a man. Some of the reports detailed that the servant had asked an additional question along the lines of “Maybe you just forgot?”. But I was inclined to think they didn’t. No one could forget such a towering figure, especially with that getup and attitude.

Mother let out a small scoff as she placed the papers down. “So, he targeted our house specifically...”

“...Or we’re just unlucky enough to be his first victim,” Father continued. “Either way, I swear upon our family name that I will catch this man.” Father clenched his fist, add a little bit more strength and he would’ve caused a bleeding.

I was relieved to see that both of my parents were taking this matter seriously, but it seemed to be even more serious than I thought. I theorized a couple of theories of my own as to why ‘Sebastian’ would want to sneak into our manor.

First theory: he was looking for something to steal, or someone to kidnap. Perhaps he was trying to get some quick buck by selling pieces of jewelry or ransoming rich kids. Father suggested this theory, but I believed that it wasn’t that probable.

Judging from his words and manners, he had researched us. Sure he didn’t know everything about us, especially about Leila being the head of gardening. It was still possible he only did minor research.

Second theory: he really was targeting me specifically. The first theory just didn’t quite fit, but this one seemed to make more sense. “Sebastian” knew enough to sneak past our maid and also knew enough about me to confront Mother with my information.

The more I thought about it, the more this seemed like a typical scam back in my old world, threatening old people with information they shouldn’t have known.

Then, I remembered one detail from our encounter. “Sebastian” had said something about me having less than five Talent Symbols. Mother’s reaction to those words confirmed that it was true for me.

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I began to recall small tidbits in my memory, of how my parents kept denying my request for me to learn my own Talents. Were they trying to hide the fact that my Talents were basically worthless?

Having less than five Talent Symbols meant a person only had two or fewer Talents. It was a social and personal disadvantage that could turn a person into a pariah.

Not to mention if an aristocrat such as myself were found to have less than five Talent Symbols, it would spell quite the commotion about my ascension as an heir of a powerful family.

“Mother, Father… Do I truly have less than five Symbols?” I asked instinctively as if making sure.

My question seemed to stop time itself. Father’s eyes froze, his hands tense against the desktop, and Mother’s cool, unflinching gaze faltered ever so slightly. They exchanged a glance with each other quietly. I could tell they were communicating with their eyes.

They both looked at me, not with answers, but just hesitation.

“Carine. That… That’s something we should discuss another time…”

“Then it is true,” I whispered to myself.

I was defeated. Not only did I have seemingly no Talent as Feyt, but it rang true for Carine as well. Even with two bodies, I wasn’t blessed enough to have an average Talent count in either body.

“A-Ah! Right! We should discuss about our new student” Father interrupted.

“...Is this really the right time?” Mother said, clearly unimpressed with his not-so-subtle attempt at changing topics.

As the two of them talked, my mind fell into deep thought once more. I remembered a particular sentence from “Sebastian”.

“That young lady may not realize this yet, but she possesses something special. A special ‘Talent’ you could say.”

Knowing him, this was a lie too, just an excuse to escape his predicament. I mean, that’s how most scams work, right? Sweet talks are dangerous. I really shouldn’t be swayed away that easily.

But a part of me was hoping he was right. There was no way I was reincarnated in this world with nothing else besides having two, seemingly inferior, bodies… right?

“Yeah, I will send a carriage to pick up the new student in a few days!” Father continued to talk with Mother about the transfer student.

“This ‘Feyt’ kid… is he really that important?”

“Feyt?” I mumbled, hearing a name that snapped me out of my mind.

“Haha! Of course that would catch your attention,” Father said with a hearty laugh.

Mother, however, narrowed her cold eyes on me. “Tell me, who is this boy, Carine?”

I blinked a few times, taken aback by the sudden shift. “Feyt?” I repeated, more to myself than to them, wondering why Mother would focus on him all of a sudden. I hadn’t exactly planned to be talking about the other me of all people, especially not now.

Mother gave a curt nod. “Yes, this ‘Feyt’, who is he to you?”

“He’s… well, he’s a village boy,” I started, choosing my words carefully, “one of the ones who got kidnapped along with me that day. We escaped together, and I helped him a little with sword techniques, but that’s it. Really, Mother, he’s just a boy from the village.”

I didn’t want to push another narrative besides the short and simple one. I didn’t want a repeat of Fray, especially in this part of my life. I wouldn’t have any safe space if that were to happen! Father would be the main instigator of rumors if I didn’t word things correctly, so I had to watch my tongue carefully around him.

For a brief moment, Mother’s expression softened, perhaps in relief, but her cold stare returned quickly. “You taught him sword techniques?” She pressed the question strongly.

Is she worried I leaked out secret techniques of the school? I only ever learned the basics though, right?

“N-not much,” I said quickly. “Just a few basics so we could work together to escape Nothing formal.”

Mother looked at me for a moment longer, her lips pressed thin. She didn’t seem thrilled with my explanation, even if she was satisfied on the surface. Feyt, after all, was a commoner. Having him learn our family’s sword style.

Father nodded along with a smile that spelled ‘excited’ across his face. “I’m sure you know why I invited that boy, now?” he asked Mother. “To learn our sword techniques at such a fast rate to the point of gaining the respect of that bandit leader, it could mean either of two things.”

Father held out two fingers, turning one of them down, and he said, “First, that boy’s a genius in the making.” Father turned the other finger down and continued, “Or second, Carine’s a genius at teaching. Could even be both!”

Mother, however, still looked thoughtful, though she let the topic of Feyt drop for now, her sharp gaze softening as she nodded. “Then, is it safe to assume that the only reason you invited him was his potential with the sword?”

Father froze, seemingly at a loss for words. This prompted Mother to glare at him even more.

What other reason would there be to invite Feyt to train besides my “potential”? Of course, the “potential” he was talking about was just me copying sword techniques based on Carine’s memories.

Mother let out a sigh, as if she was tired of keeping up that cold face. “I’ll be keeping a watchful eye on him. If he tries anything funny…”

A chill flew down both of my spines. My life… it was being threatened once more.

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image [https://i.imgur.com/RdC5Gde.png]