The next morning came too fast.
I'd barely recovered from yesterday's humiliation—a.k.a. dodging practice with a living statue—when the carriage pulled into the manor's front courtyard.
Father didn't say much during the ride. He never did.
We sat in silence as the wheels turned over stone and gravel, the crest of House Valemont glinting on the door beside me.
Only the rhythmic clatter of hooves and the occasional sway of the carriage reminded me this wasn't a dream.
Meeting at the Count's estate, huh?
I'd seen it in the old Brandy's memories—never from the inside, though. Just glimpses of grandeur, expectations, and a whole lot of fake smiles.
"You'll speak only when necessary," Father said as we neared the gate.
"Observe. Listen. Don't embarrass the house."
Simple enough.
Not like I had plans to give a speech.
The Count's estate was massive. White-stone pillars. Carved archways. Silver-inlaid fountains.
Everything screamed wealth. Control. Heritage.
As we entered the reception hall, a steward in crimson and black robes stepped forward with a bow.
"Lord Valemont. Young Master."
Father gave a slight nod. I did the same.
We were escorted past other noble heirs—some already present, some arriving just after us.
Out of the crowd, I recognized two faces clearly.
My minions.
Yeah, like every generic villain, I have minions too.
Garry and Luke Winson—twins from House Windson. Technically nobles, but barely. Their father's practically my father's lapdog, so they ended up as mine by default.
They're not exactly bright, but they're loyal. And loud.
And right now, they were heading straight toward me.
"Boss, did you see who just walked in from House Ashborne?" Garry asked, his voice laced with surprise and scorn.
At first, I was going to brush him off. Just the usual noise.
But then I heard the name.
I turned my head to check—and froze.
My stoic expression cracked into pure shock.
The ones representing House Ashborne?
Lord Theran... and Elric.
Yeah. The protagonist was the one walking beside his father.
That's not how it was supposed to go.
Only heirs are allowed to attend this meeting. Lucard, Elric's arrogant stepbrother, was the one who showed up in the novel.
Elric? He wasn't even acknowledged by his family until after the Academy arc. And even then, it was only after he bulldozed half the capital's underworld using brute force—not... charm.
But now?
He was here.
Standing tall, right next to Lord Theran, dressed like he owned the place.
How the hell did the family do a 180 this early?
And—why the hell does he look so good?
Sure, Elric was always described as handsome—sky-blue hair, piercing blue eyes. But early on, he was supposed to be malnourished, tired, practically oozing trauma.
Now?
He wasn't quite on my level—obviously—but he was close. Too close.
Muscles. Posture. Aura. Even had cheekbones sharp enough to duel with.
Did I cause a butterfly effect?
No. That's ridiculous. I haven't interacted with them once.
Even in the novel, there was zero contact between Brandy and House Ashborne at this stage.
And seriously—what kind of butterfly grows someone six-pack abs in two weeks?
I forced myself to look away, face blank and composed.
On the outside, I probably looked like I hadn't even noticed him.
On the inside?
I was spiraling.
This wasn't in the script.
Was I going too slow? I've been grinding sword drills and mana circuits like my life depended on it—and it kinda does. And he just walks in looking like a prince on recruitment day?
No. Maybe Theran brought him to humiliate him publicly. A warning.
Yeah. That's got to be it.
I risked another glance.
He was talking to one of the minor baron heirs. Smiling. Naturally. Not awkwardly.
Like he belonged here.
Okay. New problem.
Who the hell taught him charisma?
That skill tree wasn't supposed to unlock until Volume Two!
I folded my arms slowly, maintaining the noble heir posture.
I could feel Garry and Luke glancing between me and Elric.
Garry looked like he was about to say something dumb.
One glare shut him up.
Now was not the time for commentary.
I needed intel. Quietly.
"Go check what's going on—but don't cause a commotion," I muttered, keeping my eyes forward.
I mean, if they couldn't even handle that without screwing it up, what were they good for?
"Yes, Boss!" they replied in unison—way too loud.
Garry bumped Luke's shoulder like they were heading off on some covert noble espionage mission.
Gods help me.