The afternoon sunlight streamed softly through the high windows of the palace nursery, painting the polished floor in streaks of gold. A gentle breeze came in through the open balcony doors, swaying the curtains. Sitting at a small table carved from fine oak, Adrian Leonhart, the three-year-old prince, toyed idly with a wooden knight and a carved horse.
Celestia Leonhart, his mother, entered quietly. Her silver hair shimmered like liquid moonlight, and her calm blue eyes softened as they landed on her son.
"Adrian," she said warmly.
He glanced up, tilting his head. "Mother?"
She walked closer, carrying a thin book bound in soft leather. The cover had the royal crest engraved in silver. "It's time you start learning the basics of reading. You're growing quickly, and though you're still small… a prince must never be careless with knowledge."
Adrian blinked. Reading lessons? At three years old?
Inside, the reincarnated soul in him almost laughed. Back in my old life, I was sweating through exams at school. And now I'm about to read fairytales at three. Talk about a downgrade.
But he set the toy knight down and straightened in his little chair. He forced himself to act a little childish. "Okay… Mama."
Celestia smiled faintly at the word. She sat across from him, placing the book on the table. "This will be simple. Just the alphabet, some small words."
Adrian glanced at the pages. The letters looked familiar—different script, but the same concept as the alphabets he knew from his past life. His sharp mind instantly connected the symbols with sounds. This is nothing. I could probably recite whole sentences already.
But he had to be careful. He didn't want to reveal too much. Still, it was impossible to completely hide his sharpness.
Celestia opened the first page. "This is the letter A." She pointed at the character.
Adrian leaned forward, staring intently, then nodded. "A."
"Good," Celestia said softly. "Now, this one is B."
Adrian followed her finger, then repeated, "B."
She continued patiently, pointing to C, then D, then E.
Adrian repeated each one without hesitation, his pronunciation crisp. Too crisp.
Celestia tilted her head slightly. "You learn quickly. That's unusual for your age."
Adrian felt heat rise to his cheeks. Crap, I slipped. He scratched his cheek nervously, trying to play it off. "Is… is it bad?"
Her eyes softened. She reached out, brushing his soft dark hair with her hand. "No, not bad. It's wonderful. My little Adrian is very clever."
The compliment pierced him like an arrow. He looked away immediately, ears burning. "I… I'm not that clever."
Celestia chuckled quietly. "You're flustered."
"I'm not!" Adrian protested quickly, cheeks puffing. Inside, his past-life self groaned. Why does it feel so embarrassing when she praises me? In my old world, compliments never fazed me. But when she says it… it's different.
Celestia let it go and continued the lesson. She showed him simple words—"sun," "moon," "king," "mother."
Adrian read them without pause.
She raised her brow. "Have you been secretly reading books when no one was looking?"
Adrian almost choked. Not exactly books, but reincarnation kind of gives me a head start. He waved his hands. "N-No, Mama. I just… remember things fast."
Her eyes lingered on him, calm but searching. Then she smiled again. "That's a gift. Use it well."
They continued until the book's first chapter was finished. Celestia closed it gently.
"That's enough for today," she said.
Adrian tilted his head. "Already?"
"You want to learn more?"
"…Maybe." He tried to hide the eagerness in his voice, but it slipped through.
Celestia laughed lightly. "You're a strange child. Most children your age would have grown restless."
Adrian muttered under his breath, "I'm not like most children…"
She heard him. "No, you're not." Her expression softened with a mix of pride and curiosity. "Sometimes, Adrian, when I look at you, I feel like you're older than you seem. Like you've lived more years than I could ever know."
Adrian froze, his little fingers curling around the edge of the table. For a brief moment, his past-life memories flashed—the accident, his friend, the pain, then waking up as a baby in this new world.
He forced a laugh, too quick. "I-I just think a lot!"
Celestia studied him but said nothing further. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "My thoughtful boy. You will grow to be a wise ruler someday."
The words struck him deeper than he expected. His chest tightened. A wise ruler…? In my old life, I couldn't even protect the person I cared about most. But maybe this time…
Celestia stood. "We'll continue tomorrow. Rest now."
But Adrian suddenly grabbed her sleeve. "Wait. Mama."
She paused, looking back at him. "Yes?"
He hesitated, then whispered, "Thank you… for teaching me."
Her eyes softened like melted snow. She cupped his cheek. "Always."
That night, after Celestia left, Adrian sat on his bed with the toy knight still in his hands. He whispered to himself.
"Being smart… being strong… it's not enough. Not unless I use it to protect the people I care about this time."
The wooden knight stood in his small palm, as if waiting for his command. Adrian's gaze hardened with a maturity far beyond his three years.
"I won't waste this second life."
The palace study smelled faintly of parchment and polished wood. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating stacks of books that towered higher than Adrian himself.
Celestia sat across from her son at a small desk, quill in hand. Adrian's legs dangled off the chair, his feet nowhere near touching the floor, yet his eyes were sharp—too sharp for a child his age.
"Alright, Adrian," Celestia said gently. "Today, we'll practice simple numbers. One plus one is…?"
Adrian blinked. "Two."
Celestia smiled warmly. "Good. And two plus two?"
"Four."
Her quill scratched lightly on the paper. "Very good. Now… what about five plus three?"
Adrian's lips twitched. "Eight."
Celestia nodded, pleased. "See? You are quick with this. But do not rush. Numbers are the foundation of trade, of managing lands and armies. Take your time."
Adrian tilted his head. Take my time? I was doing calculus when I was twelve in my old world. These are pebbles compared to mountains.
She placed a small set of carved wooden blocks in front of him. "Here—show me with these. Five blocks and three blocks. Put them together."
Adrian stared at the blocks, then at her. "…Do I really need to?"
Celestia blinked. "Yes, darling. It helps you visualize."
He sighed, stacking them lazily. "Five plus three equals eight. Eight minus five equals three. Eight minus three equals five."
Celestia paused, her quill frozen. "…You already know subtraction?"
Adrian shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it?"
She leaned back slightly, her sapphire eyes narrowing in quiet surprise. "Obvious… for you, perhaps. But most children your age cannot even count past twenty."
Adrian fiddled with a block. Oops. Too fast. I should slow down.
But then Leon entered the study, his heavy steps drawing attention instantly.
"Celestia," he greeted, before his gaze fell to Adrian. "How goes his lesson?"
Celestia's expression softened, though a flicker of disbelief remained. "He is… quick."
Leon raised a brow. "Show me."
Adrian stiffened slightly under his father's golden stare. Leon was not cruel, but his presence was like standing before a mountain—unshakable, imposing.
"Adrian," Leon said evenly, "what is six times two?"
Adrian answered without hesitation. "Twelve."
Leon's eyes narrowed. "…Times four?"
"Twenty-four."
Celestia blinked. "Leon, multiplication already? He hasn't even—"
"Times five," Leon interrupted, still watching Adrian.
Adrian smirked. "Thirty."
Silence.
Leon's eyes sharpened. "Divide thirty by six."
Adrian swung his legs casually. "Five."
Leon leaned closer. "Divide twenty-four by eight."
"Three."
Celestia's quill slipped from her fingers, ink blotting the parchment. "Adrian…" Her voice was soft, trembling between awe and concern. "How do you know this?"
Adrian realized too late—he had overplayed his hand.
"…I just thought about it."
Leon's gaze grew colder, scrutinizing. "No child simply 'thinks' division. Even some of my generals can't divide in their heads so quickly."
Adrian swallowed. Crap. I need to act like a child.
He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Numbers… talk to me."
Celestia blinked. "Talk to you?"
"They fit together," Adrian explained, grabbing blocks and stacking them into neat columns. "See? Two and two always want to sit together. Six wants to hold three in each hand. It's like… friends."
Celestia's lips parted, astonished by the strange metaphor.
Leon studied him longer, then finally leaned back. "…You are either a genius or a liar."
Adrian forced a sheepish smile. "…Can't I be both?"
Celestia gasped softly at his cheek, though Leon's lips twitched faintly—half amusement, half suspicion.
Still, Leon folded his arms. "Very well. Let's push further."
"Leon," Celestia protested. "He is still a child—"
"He is no ordinary child," Leon said firmly, his gaze never leaving Adrian. "And if he can do what he claims, I will know the limits of his mind."
Adrian's chest tightened. Limits? Hah. I already know mine are beyond theirs. But if I show too much, they'll never let me live normally.
"Adrian," Leon said, "if there are twelve soldiers, and each carries five arrows, how many arrows in total?"
Adrian didn't blink. "Sixty."
"And if three are lost in battle?"
"Fifty-seven."
Leon's brows rose slightly. "If half the arrows are broken?"
Adrian pretended to think hard, frowning. "…Twenty-eight and a half?"
Celestia blinked. "Half an arrow?"
Adrian giggled. "You can still count a broken one!"
Leon's eyes gleamed faintly, a rare trace of pride breaking through his sternness.
"…He thinks like a tactician already," Leon muttered.
Celestia pressed her hand to her mouth, overwhelmed. "Leon, he's only three…"
Leon crouched down, facing Adrian squarely. "Adrian. Numbers and tactics are not toys. If you are this capable now, you must be careful. Do you understand?"
Adrian lowered his gaze, his small fists curling in his lap. "…Yes, Father."
Celestia pulled him close protectively. "Do not press him too far."
Leon's expression softened faintly. "…I only wanted to see the truth. And now I have."
He stood, his cape brushing against the polished floor. Before leaving, he looked back once more, his golden eyes sharp.
"Adrian. Do not hide your mind. But do not flaunt it either. The world fears what it cannot understand."
The door shut behind him.
Adrian sat quietly in Celestia's lap, her fingers gently smoothing his hair. She whispered, almost to herself:
"My brilliant little star… What will you become?"
Adrian closed his eyes, the numbers still dancing easily in his head. Whatever I choose. This time, I'll decide my own path.