Chapter 2

Chapter 2
## Chapter 2

The palms that were once defined by thick calluses and a map of battle scars had vanished.

In their place were delicate hands, appearing as though they had never gripped a hilt, let alone a quill. They possessed a sickly pallor from prolonged isolation, leaving the blue veins clearly visible beneath the translucent skin.

The transformation wasn’t limited to his hands.

From the underlying skeletal structure to the density of his muscles, nothing corresponded to his previous physical self. While muscles naturally atrophy during a long unconscious state, this discrepancy went far beyond simple wasting.

It felt as if his consciousness had been forcibly transplanted into an entirely foreign vessel.

‘This can’t be.’

The terrifying realization made Jake recoil. He frantically scanned the room and, spotting a small hand mirror on a nearby table, lunged for it to inspect his features.

“…!”

Reflected in the glass, the image of a mercenary with a scruffy, unkempt beard was gone. Instead, a silver-haired youth stared back with a look of pure shock. It wasn’t just the frame—even his face had been replaced!

‘Wait, I recognize this person.’

“Young Master? Has something happened?”

The attendant standing nearby cocked his head, clearly perplexed by Jake’s visible panic. Forcing himself to breathe rhythmically, Jake turned toward the youth.

“Tell me, who is my father?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“My father. To which lineage do I belong?”

In truth, he wanted to demand the identity of this body’s owner, but such a direct inquiry would create a predicament he couldn’t explain away. He planned to mask his confusion as the delirious rambling of a man recently awakened, using the response to piece together his new life.

The question was evidently bizarre enough that the boy hesitated for a long beat before finally answering.

“Why… you are the progeny of His Grace, Grand Duke Sigmund, the pillar of this sovereignty.”

At that definitive answer, which left no room for doubt, Jake pressed his palms against his forehead. The memories finally clicked into place, identifying the person he now inhabited.

‘Lucian Valdek.’

The Third Young Master of the prestigious Grand Ducal House of Valdek, the Emperor’s most trusted advisor.

He was also the youth who had perished at sixteen, a full fifteen years ago, back when Jake was nothing more than a common guard at the city gates.

—

“Good grief.”

A breathless, empty laugh bubbled up from Jake as he tried to digest the absurdity. Waking up fifteen years in the past was world-shaking enough, but finding himself in a stranger’s skin was another level of madness.

Despite the disorientation, a realization dawned on him: this was a golden ticket. He now possessed noble blood—and not just any nobility, but that of a Grand Duke. For Jake, who had spent his former life scraping by in the mud because of his low status, this was the ultimate stroke of luck.

‘And honestly, I’m not complaining about the face.’

Jake took another long look at his reflection. Though he looked a bit frail, his features were exquisite, bordering on the divine. If he strolled through a village, the local girls would likely lose their footing from the sheer sight of him. In his previous life, he had often daydreamed about being handsome for a single day; he never expected it to become his permanent reality.

“Hehehe.”

“Young Master? Are you truly feeling alright?”

“Ahem. I am perfectly fine.”

Hearing the voice of the servant boy, Hans, Jake cleared his throat and stood up. He felt no lingering grief for his former body. Aside from his status, his father—his only true family—had passed away long ago. With no ties left to his old life, there was no reason to look back.

Since fate had dealt this hand, he decided to abandon the identity of Jake the mercenary and embrace life as the Third Young Master, Lucian. He’d eventually have to investigate what had become of his original body, just to be certain.

“I think I’ll take a stroll. My limbs feel leaden from being confined to this bed.”

“Pardon? You really ought to rest further…”

“No, staying here won’t help. I need some fresh air in the gardens.”

His first priority was gauging his environment. Jake—now Lucian—rose with Hans’s assistance. After a brief change of attire, he made his way to the garden, where old, dusty memories began to resurface.

‘I used to walk these paths quite often. Back then, I was on patrol duty, so I never actually got to appreciate the view.’

Reflecting on it, he had served the House of Valdek for a significant stretch. He had spent a decade here, starting as a simple guard after leaving his home village. If he hadn’t been framed for his captain’s theft and forced to run, he might have earned a higher rank. Though, even then, a commoner would have hit a ceiling at Guard Captain or perhaps Centurion.

“…Why is the mood so heavy?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Everyone is staring at me.”

As Lucian moved, eyes trailed his every step. Servants working the grounds and guards at their posts all pivoted to watch him pass. Some even abandoned their duties just to gawk. It didn’t feel like the typical gaze of someone admiring a pretty face.

“Well… it is likely because it has been an entire year since you last appeared in public, Young Master.”

“What? A year?”

“To be exact, it has been fourteen months.”

“I haven’t left my quarters in that long?”

“No, sir. You haven’t even crossed the threshold of your room.”

“…!”

This was madness. He knew the original owner of this body was a shut-in, but over a year? Even with every luxury provided, that was extreme.

‘No wonder my lungs are burning.’

He had initially feared he was dying of some wasting disease because of his thinness, but it was just total physical neglect. It was a small miracle he hadn’t turned soft and heavy living such a sedentary life. Still, it was far easier to build muscle on a lean frame than to shed weight from a bloated one.

‘In a way, this works in my favor.’

A man who hadn’t been seen for a year meant that no one had a current read on him. Even if his temperament or habits shifted drastically, people would likely attribute it to his long isolation.

The only real threat would be his immediate kin.

‘Which reminds me, why hasn’t his family intervened? If a son refuses to leave his room for a year, wouldn’t they have dragged him out by his hair?’

Lucian remembered the current Grand Duke, Sigmund, quite clearly. He was a rigid, iron-willed man and a fanatical loyalist to the Emperor. While he wasn’t a corrupt man, he was terrifyingly strict about protocol and duty. He possessed a warrior’s spirit and famously had no patience for soldiers who showed weakness.

Yet, he had allowed his own son to wither away in a bedroom?

‘That’s odd. He’s not the type to tolerate such behavior.’

As he weighed the possibilities, his stamina reached its limit. He hadn’t traveled far, but this fragile body was spent. Just as Lucian let out a tired breath and prepared to turn back—

“Third Young Master.”

A voice called out from the path behind him. He turned to find an elderly butler with a neat, grizzled beard bowing low. Even after all these years, Lucian recognized him immediately.

‘Head Steward Edwin.’

His body instinctively tensed at the sight of the man. Edwin had arrived at the manor as a political hostage from a rival clan in his youth but had climbed the ranks to become the Grand Duke’s most trusted confidant. Rumor had it his influence was so profound he could sway the line of succession itself. In his past life, Jake had seen the Grand Duke’s own heirs trembling in Edwin’s presence.

“It has been quite some time. I trust you are feeling better?”

“…Yes. I feel a bit sluggish, but my health is returning.”

Lucian responded to the polite greeting while shooting a look at Hans, hoping for a clue as to why the Head Steward had appeared. However, Hans was paralyzed with nerves, completely missing the signal. He would have to navigate this through sheer intuition.

“On another note, what brings you out here? I don’t recall you seeking me out lately. Has some trouble befallen the family?”

“Hmm.”

Since Edwin was essentially the Grand Duke’s shadow, Lucian’s voice naturally took on a tone of measured respect. Edwin’s eyes flashed with a momentary spark at Lucian’s composed demeanor. However, he quickly masked it with a neutral smile and a shake of his head.

“Nothing of the sort. The Grand Ducal House remains stable, so put your mind at ease.”

“Then why are you here…?”

“His Grace the Grand Duke requests the presence of the Third Young Master.”

“…!”

—

Lucian kept his gaze lowered, stealing occasional glances at the figure before him.

Sigmund Valdek, the reigning patriarch of the Grand Ducal House.

Though his beard was silvering, there was no sign of age-related weakness. He radiated the overwhelming presence of a predator capable of snapping a beast’s neck with his hands. The aura was so oppressive that Lucian felt a chill on his skin just sitting in the same room.

The Grand Duke fixed a sharp, piercing stare on Lucian for a moment before uttering a single, disdainful phrase.

“Pathetic creature.”

Lucian blinked, taken aback by the sheer hostility. Wait, why the immediate insult?

“Is your little rebellion finally over?”

“Pardon me?”

“I am told you ingested just enough sleeping medication to avoid a permanent sleep. Your timing with the dosage was remarkably precise.”

What was he talking about? As Lucian’s mind raced to catch up, the Grand Duke’s voice turned even more biting.

“After wasting away in your room for over a year, was this the most clever plot you could devise? You managed to force me to summon you, so I suppose you achieved your goal. Though the cost to your dignity far outweighs the victory.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow…”

“I wanted to see how long you would use your mother’s passing as a shield for your cowardice, but my patience has run dry. I harbored a faint hope that time would bring you clarity, but it seems I was the fool for expecting growth from you.”

Lucian’s eyes widened as the pieces fell into place.

‘The Grand Duke has four sons, all from different lineages. When I worked here, only the Third Young Master’s mother had succumbed to illness.’

Because the original Lucian had died so young, Jake had always assumed it was due to a frail constitution. But the truth was far more dramatic. After his mother’s death, feeling neglected by the Grand Duke, the Third Young Master had staged a protest. Locking himself away was a desperate attempt to be noticed. When that failed, he had taken a massive dose of sleeping pills to create a crisis.

‘It was a cry for help, so he never actually meant to die. But taking that much medication after a year of total inactivity? For a body this weak, that’s a death sentence.’

The original Lucian’s fatal error was a lack of self-awareness regarding his own health. A “safe” overdose for a healthy person was a lethal blow to a shut-in who could barely walk to the garden. Jake had heard rumors of an accidental death, but he never suspected this tragic backstory.

‘What a mess.’

He suppressed a sigh as the reality of his situation set in. The boy he had replaced was even more pitiable than he’d thought. Grand Duke Sigmund was a titan of the Empire—a man who survived a political arena filled with wolves. Naturally, he would have zero tolerance for a child who brought shame to his name. He was the type to cultivate “lions” and prune the rest, and here was his son acting like a spoiled child.

“Fine. You have my attention, so speak your piece. This may very well be our final encounter.”

The Grand Duke’s icy ultimatum brought Lucian back to the present. It wasn’t just a threat of silence; the tone suggested something far more permanent. In the worst-case scenario, he was about to be exiled to a distant border or a monastery. If he didn’t play this perfectly, his new life would be over before it truly began.

‘I have to pivot.’

There was only one path forward. He had to meet this man’s intensity head-on, regardless of the danger.

Lucian squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and looked the Grand Duke straight in the eye.