The first thing I noticed was how soft the bed was.
It felt like I was sinking into a cloud—warm, silky, too perfect. The kind of bed I had only seen in movie scenes or daydreams, never in real life. For a second, I honestly thought I'd died and gone to some weird hotel-themed afterlife.
Then I opened my eyes.
A ceiling painted with golden-winged dragons and armored angels stared back at me. Their eyes were carved with such detail that they almost seemed alive. I blinked a few times, half-expecting them to move.
They didn't. But something was wrong.
My body felt… small. Light. Weak, even. My fingers, resting on a velvet pillow, looked pale and too elegant. Not mine. I hadn't had a manicure in my entire life, and these things looked like they were sculpted by a royal artist.
The scent of lavender and old books filled the air.
I sat up slowly, my limbs moving like they weren't mine. The sheets slipped off, revealing a high-collared silk shirt, far too soft to be anything I owned. Across the massive room stood a full-length mirror—tall, ornate, and definitely expensive.
I didn't want to look.
But I had to.
Dragging myself off the bed, I stumbled toward the mirror. My legs were steady, but everything felt off—like I was inside someone else's skin.
And then I saw him.
A boy. Maybe fourteen. Black hair that shimmered blue under the light. Pale skin. Crimson eyes that glowed faintly, like embers in a dying fire. He was beautiful in that cold, distant way nobles always looked in fantasy novels. Like he didn't belong to the world.
But the eyes… the eyes were mine.
"What… the hell?"
The memories hit me without warning.
I stumbled back from the mirror as images crashed into my mind—memories I had never lived, emotions I had never felt. A noble family. A father with a voice like thunder. A name whispered in fear. Magic. Politics. Swordplay. Engagement to a princess. And—
Death.
Rejection. Humiliation. Standing in front of a crowd at some elite academy while the girl he was betrothed to—no, the princess—tossed him aside like trash.
Then… darkness. Suicide. He had thrown himself off the top of the academy's watchtower. Just like that.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, breathing slowly.
"Okay," I muttered, mostly to myself. "I've been reincarnated… into a side villain."
A minor antagonist. A small obstacle in someone else's hero journey. The kind of guy who exists solely to be crushed by the protagonist to make him look cooler.
And I didn't even remember how the story went.
That was the kicker. I'd skimmed the novel a while back. Read maybe ten chapters before dropping it. It was some fantasy thing with swords and demons and heroes rising from poverty. I remembered the basic setup: poor boy goes to elite magic academy, makes friends, beats nobles, fights the demon lord, saves the world.
Classic.
But the guy I was now? He wasn't the hero.
He was the joke.
A spoiled noble kid who was engaged to the female lead for political reasons. Who got in the way of the protagonist. Who got humiliated. Who killed himself like a coward.
"Not happening," I said out loud.
I didn't care about the princess. I didn't care about the plot. I didn't even care about the hero. If fate wanted me to play the villain and die to make the story more dramatic, then fate could go screw itself.
I had died once already. Whatever this second chance was, I wasn't wasting it chasing love or glory.
I was going to live.
Live well.
Sleep in a massive bed. Eat food cooked by royal chefs. Take hot baths. Wear silk. Do absolutely nothing heroic. Just enjoy being rich and lazy while the real main character handled the heavy lifting.
That was the plan.
A knock came at the door.
"Young Master Kael, your father requests your presence in the Grand Hall."
Kael. That was my name now.
Kael Nocturne Vaelthorn.
Son of Duke Vaelthorn—the most powerful noble in the kingdom. Head of the family that controlled half the military. Feared, respected, and untouchable.
I had just inherited a life of power, wealth, and comfort… and apparently, a suicide scene coming up in a few months if I didn't play this smart.
I stretched, cracking my neck.
Time to see what kind of mess I was waking up into.
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