Selena remained behind in the grand hall, her expression frozen in disbelief. Roman had spoken back to her without hesitation, his eyes steady, his words sharp. It was a side of him she had never seen before.
Meanwhile, Roman returned to his chambers with Lyra trailing close behind. He tugged uncomfortably at the lavish silks he had been forced to wear, their embroidery glinting faintly under the candlelight.
"Lyra," he said with a faint frown, "bring me something simple. These shiny clothes are suffocating. I want something comfortable."
Lyra tilted her head, hesitant. "But young master… nobility only wear such clothing. This is the standard."
"I don't care what others wear. I'm not others," Roman replied sharply.
She sighed and searched through the wardrobe, eventually offering another set of fine garments. Roman slipped them on but grimaced. "Still too stiff. Do we have nothing normal?"
Lyra lowered her gaze. "No, young master. The household only keeps noble attire."
Roman muttered under his breath, then shook his head. "Fine. I'll make do. Leave the room, Lyra. I'll finish this myself."
"Yes, young master." She bowed lightly and slipped out, shutting the door.
As Roman fastened the last buttons, his eyes drifted toward the window. Beyond the thick palace walls stretched the lands of the Presia Dukedom. He frowned at what he saw.
The villages below were nothing like the prosperous, polished cities of his former world. Mud and wooden huts dotted the horizon. Smoke from cheap firewood lingered in the air. Roads were poorly paved, and from this distance he could already see people struggling with water buckets, their clothes worn and patched.
"So this is the dukedom…" Roman whispered. "Broken. Neglected. No wonder resentment brews."
The thought weighed on him until his chest tightened. A decision formed in his mind. I can't just stay locked inside these walls. If I'm to live in this world… I need to see it with my own eyes.
He opened the door and called for Lyra. "Prepare my sword. I'm going for a walk outside the palace."
Her eyes widened. "Outside? But… why, young master? It's not safe—"
"I'm bored of sitting here. Don't argue. Just hand me my sword."
After a brief hesitation, Lyra obeyed. "At least… promise you'll be careful," she said quietly, her hands lingering as she offered him the weapon.
Roman gave her a faint smile. "Don't worry. I'll come back in one piece."
He strode through the corridors until he reached the palace gates. Two guards crossed their halberds before him.
"Forgive us, young master. The duke's orders are clear. You cannot leave."
Roman narrowed his eyes. "Move aside. I'm not asking."
The tension lingered for a heartbeat—until a calm, familiar voice broke the silence.
"Let the young master through."
It was Butler Adam. He approached from behind, hands folded neatly. "The duke has given permission. However, he also requested that you return before evening."
Roman glanced at him, then smirked faintly. "So Lyra told you already."
"Yes," Adam replied evenly. "Be safe, young master."
The massive iron gates groaned as they opened. For the first time in this life, Roman stepped beyond the confines of the palace. His boots touched the rough dirt path leading outward, and a strange sense of freedom washed over him.
Nearby, a knight rushed forward with reins in hand. "Young master, please take a horse. The roads are long and dangerous—"
Roman shook his head. "No. I'm walking. I want to feel the ground myself."
The knight bowed reluctantly and stepped back.
High above, concealed behind a tall gallery window, Selena had been watching everything. Her eyes narrowed, a sharp gleam in them. Roman's gaze suddenly flicked upward, meeting hers across the distance.
A brief silence. Then the corner of Roman's mouth curved faintly, as though acknowledging her presence. Selena's lips twitched into a smirk.
"Interesting," she whispered. "You've grown bolder than I thought."
She turned her head slightly. "Grey."
A shadowed figure emerged from nowhere, kneeling behind her.
"Keep an eye on him," Selena ordered softly.
"As you command, my lady," Grey replied before vanishing into thin air.
Meanwhile, Roman tightened his grip on the sword at his side. His first step into this new world had begun—not as a useless young master, but as someone reborn with purpose.