David stood in his room, examining his new body—same face, different hair color, slightly thinner frame.
This body's… fragile.
But then, a faint pulse—like low-voltage electricity—ran through his chest.
Mana, he realized, memories of how Caelan first learned magic surfacing in his mind.
He raised his right hand, fingers curling tightly as if grasping something invisible.
Air stirred.
A small vortex spiraled into his palm.
With a sharp clench, the swirling wind compressed—then popped, releasing a quiet gust against his face.
"So this is magic…" he muttered, studying his open palm.
"Interesting. Add firearms into the mix... and this could be dangerous."
David stepped out of his chamber once more. As he made his way to the staircase, he noticed the maid who had previously tried to clean his room. She was standing still, gazing at the open gap beyond.
This maid… she's a slave's child, David thought as he approached. When he was just one step away, he called out, "Moly."
As usual, she bowed her head and asked what she could do for her king.
David smiled and said, "Please clean my room. But don't touch the desk. Just the floor, the mirror, and the bed will do."
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty," Moly replied.
David walked past her. Moly remained where she was, staring at his back.
He said… please?. "Lor- Your Majesty," she called out.
David glanced over his shoulder. "What is it?" he asked flatly.
"Your Majesty, you don't need to say 'please.' I'm just a maid… and the daughter of a sla—" her voice cut off.
David chuckled lightly. "Moly..." he said gently, then stopped laughing but kept a soft smile. "Don't dwell on it. Get to work."
He turned and continued walking.
He strolled through the vast halls of the palace. His mind wandered to Caelan's old sword training grounds. Strange… David thought. Caelan had an abundance of mana, yet a frail body. Even his childhood memories were odd—always getting scolded by the previous king whenever he trained with a sword. David replayed those moments in his head.
Meanwhile, Moly was now ready to clean the king's room. She entered with three other maids.
"King Caelan said we only need to clean the floor, mirror, and bed. Do not touch the desk," she stated firmly.
The two maids beside her exchanged puzzled looks but began cleaning anyway. One of them glanced at the desk, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"Moly, aren't you curious why King Caelan doesn't want us to clean the desk?" the maid asked.
"Uhh… well…" Moly hesitated. Of course I'm curious, she thought. "No, Lia. Let's just do what he asked."
Another maid who was wiping the mirror turned around. "Asked? Don't you mean ordered?" she said with a raised brow.
"Yes—I mean, it was an order," Moly corrected. But he said please… that was clearly a request, she thought.
"Oh, come on, Moly! Let's just sneak a peek… maybe he's hiding something juicy in those drawers," said Lia.
"NO!" Moly blurted out instinctively. "Ah… sorry."
"Ahaha… relax, I was just kidding," Lia replied with a grin.
Moly trembled slightly. He actually said 'please'… and you joke like that? she thought, staring at Lia.
Not funny.