Even now, I still don't fully understand what love truly means. However, I do remember having a wife in my previous life.

  Her face wasn’t particurly my type, and sometimes she could be a bit tiresome to handle. But still, just having a casual conversation with her always lifted my mood.

  Our meeting felt like an accident, though it involved a great deal of 'effort' on my part.

  Growing up, I was always searching for distractions from the pain inside me. I tried many hobbies, consumed various forms of entertainment, but none of it sted.

  A few years after I graduated high school, once my older sister had settled on her own, I stopped supporting her and decided to give her the house.

  I moved into an apartment.

  With a steady passive income, I found myself without much to do. In fact, I could be considered part of the economic elite at that time.

  During this period, I developed an interest in books. I read widely—across genres, themes, and cliques. I devoured everything I could get my hands on. But, like everything else, it eventually started to bore me.

  I began noticing patterns in the stories and writing styles. Slowly, when I read a book by the same author, it felt like I was reading the same book again.

  As I moved from one author to another, I began noticing recurring patterns across their books. It was as if they all belonged to a particur group—almost like a cult. Each story followed the same internal logic. And, once again, it felt like I was reading the same book.

  As these feelings grew, my enjoyment of the books started to fade.

  Maybe I’m just being picky, but what can I do? It became increasingly difficult to find any meaningful differences between them.

  That's when a particur book caught my attention. I picked it up by accident. It wasn’t written by a famous author, nor was it a bestseller.

  The book tells the story of a house cat stranded in a rainforest, struggling to survive amidst constant danger. For me, this book stood out.

  It didn’t belong to any of the cults I knew. It didn’t follow any formu. It had a unique writing style and stood entirely on its own.

  I couldn’t help but admire the book—not for its story or plot, but because it was unlike anything I had encountered before.

  And this book, somehow, led me to her.

  One day, I was walking down the street when I spotted her at a family restaurant, sitting by the window, reading a book.

  I could tell by the cover that she was reading the same book I had become obsessed with.

  I was curious about her thoughts on the book.

  I weighed my options. I wasn’t fond of eating out, and I found it tiring to keep up with conversations. But at my apartment, I mostly just zed around.

  After some thought, I decided to put in just 15 minutes of 'effort'.

  I walked into the restaurant, spoke with the waiter, and sat at the window, across from her. I could tell she was confused by my actions.

  "Are you sitting by yourself?" I asked.

  "Yes, and you are?"

  "My name is ??????. Sorry if I confused you—I just enjoy sitting by the window. The other seat was already taken. Is it alright if I sit here?"

  'I’m the one who took the other seat, though,' I added to myself.

  "Too bad," she said. "It’s alright, you can sit here." She replied, then returned to her reading.

  'She didn’t even ask the waiter for confirmation. Is she a pushover?' I wondered.

  My drink arrived, and I finished it in five minutes. I gnced at my watch—five more minutes before I would finish everything.

  Then, I called out the name of the author whose book she was reading.

  She flinched and looked up at me, "Yes?"

  "The book. Do you enjoy it?" I pointed at her book.

  Realizing what I meant, she calmed herself before replying.

  "Yes... I enjoy it," she replied hesitantly.

  "Really? I actually just finished it recently."

  She looked surprised, "Do you like it?"

  "Yes, I really enjoyed it."

  "You're not lying, right? Tell me which part you liked the most."

  And just like that, our conversation flowed. The 15 minutes I had pnned for turned into hours.

  To my surprise, that conversation marked the beginning of our retionship, eventually leading to our marriage.

  ***

  In the early morning, Cal slowly rose from his bed.

  He hadn’t slept the previous night; however, after his "awakening," he no longer required sleep on a daily basis.

  His room, though grand, was covered in dust and cobwebs, a testament to years of neglect. Cal rarely set foot inside and never permitted anyone, not even the maid, to enter. It was also devoid of light, but seeing in the dark was no challenge for him.

  Cal immediately assessed his condition. The wounds from the previous battle had mostly healed, and the remaining internal injuries didn’t trouble him.

  He got up, took a quick shower, and put on formal clothes. His hair was neatly styled, just enough to appear presentable.

  Gncing at the time, he noted that the noble gathering was soon to begin, taking pce in the garden of the Maurya Empire castle.

  Cal sighed inwardly.

  He wasn’t fond of these gatherings; in fact, he despised them. He’d never hesitated to avoid them when possible.

  Today, He was supposed to be aboard an airship, flying to the United Republic of Aur, but due to circumstances involving Sophia, he had postponed his departure until the following day. He had pnned to use the flight as an excuse to skip the gathering, but now he couldn’t.

  Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Cal saw the face of a man with golden hair and slit, golden eyes, his expression stoic.

  After finalizing his preparations, he stepped out of his room, ready to face the noble gathering.

  ***

  Cal sat at a table in the garden of the Maurya Empire castle, surrounded by his noble peers. Most of them bore distinct animal features: slit eyes, animal ears, horns, or patches of scales covering parts of their bodies.

  This table stood out from the others in the garden. All who sat here shared these unique animalistic traits, which gave them an intimidating presence. The group comprised the young generation of the empire's high-ranking nobility.

  Sophia had once been part of this gathering but eventually stopped attending.

  As the imperial prince, Cal sat at the head of the table, his position offering a clear view of his peers. Yet, he disliked what he saw. Though they wore smiles and engaged in cheerful conversation, Cal's bloodline ability, 'Eyes of Discernment', revealed the 'concealed' truths beneath the surface.

  Behind the pleasantries y a silent, cutthroat political war. Each noble sought to undermine the others, vying for power and leverage.

  Occasionally, the girls would try to appeal to Cal, employing flirtatious gnces or gestures. But he remained unmoved. To him, makeup and eborate grooming were just another form of 'concealment'. His ability allowed him to see past these facades.

  The boys, too, engaged him in conversation. Outwardly, their words seemed courteous, but Cal discerned the concealed intent: probing for weaknesses they could exploit if he ever showed vulnerability.

  As the chatter continued, a comment drew Cal’s attention.

  "Hey, Ivanna, why so quiet? Or are you being a 'Sophi'?" a girl teased.

  Ivanna, who had been quietly eating, looked up and replied with a polite smile. "Sorry, I've just had other things on my mind tely."

  Back when Sophia had attended these gatherings, she often stayed silent, focusing on the food rather than engaging with others. Over time, her behavior became a point of ridicule, and nobles began using her name as a slur. To "be a Sophi" meant to sit quietly and eat without participating in conversations.

  Normally, using a noble's name as an insult—especially one from the Kovalevska household—would have been unthinkable. However, the practice had become so commonpce among these young nobles that they grew accustomed to it, even creating 'binding contracts' to ensure this mockery remained within their circle.

  Yet Cal knew the truth. The Kovalevska name commanded fear and respect, not just within the Maurya Empire but internationally. Their prestige had only grown when Valeslina, the former head of the family, married Naphael, a Grand Magus, elevating their influence further.

  To Cal, these nobles mocked Sophia out of insecurity, finding petty satisfaction in disparaging someone far above their own station. It was their way of compensating for their inability to compete with true competence.

  Despite his disdain, Cal couldn’t defend Sophia’s name openly. Doing so would only draw unwanted attention to her, potentially creating even greater problems. But still, hearing her name twisted into a slur made his blood boil.

  Eventually, Cal had enough.

  Rising abruptly, he decred, "I’ll be leaving early," before walking away without another word.

  ***

  A silence unfolded on the table after Cal left.

  Suddenly, someone broke the stillness. "And there he goes again..."

  For most people present, Cal was perhaps the most intimidating figure. His face was perpetually stoic, and he rarely reacted to anything.

  Beyond that, during their time at Noble School, everyone had come to understand that Cal was in a league of his own—superior in everything. Many had tried to get close to him, but he always seemed unapproachable.

  As if realizing something, someone else added, "By the way, where is Ivanna?"

  ***

  In the quiet morning, Cal walked through the grand hallways of the Maurya Empire Castle.

  According to the unspoken rule of nobility, the appropriate time to attend a noble gathering before requesting to leave was exactly thirty minutes. Now, with the requisite time fulfilled, Cal had promptly excused himself.

  He pnned to head straight to the Kovalevska Mansion to visit Sophia. Her condition had been on his mind.

  As he walked, a thought struck him. He paused mid-step, deciding to make a quick detour for some shopping before going to the mansion.

  But before he could act, a voice called out from behind.

  “Brother Calyxianov!”

  Startled, Cal turned to see a girl standing there, gasping for air, her sudden appearance catching him off guard.

  The girl was strikingly beautiful, with light pink hair and matching pink eyes. Atop her head was a small horn that resembled a deer’s antler.

  It was Ivanna Smirnova.

  Ivanna wasn’t truly Cal's sister, but she was younger than him— even younger than Sophia—so she often addressed him as "Brother." However, Ivanna rarely used that term for just anyone.

  “What do you want?” Cal asked, his tone neutral.

  Ivanna straightened her posture before speaking. “Are you pnning to go abroad?”

  Her question surprised him. Cal had taken every precaution to keep his activity discreet. Though he was aware of the Smirnova household’s extensive information network, he hadn’t expected his pns to be uncovered so quickly.

  Cal studied her carefully, reminding himself of her personality. While Ivanna wasn’t overtly malicious, her ties to the Smirnova household—directly connected to the 'Primal Party'—kept him on guard in her presence.

  Keeping his expression stoic, he replied, “Yes.”

  Ivanna’s voice wavered slightly as she spoke again. “Can I come with you?”

  Cal scrutinized her closely, this time using his bloodline ability. He sensed no ulterior motives—she genuinely seemed to want to go abroad.

  But Cal's decision had already been made.

  “No,” he said ftly, his tone leaving no room for debate. Without waiting for her reaction, he turned and walked away, his pace quickening with each step.

  OnlyCat