If I ever had to describe the Royal Garden in one word, it would be: Dramatic.
It looked less like a garden and more like nature itself had been bullied into becoming an art exhibit. Crystalline fountains threw mana-infused water high into the air, glittering flowers that probably cost more than my old apartment bloomed in perfect patterns, and marble paths curved like they'd been personally designed by some obsessive god of geometry.
And standing amid all that beauty — nobles. Hundreds of them. Polished, perfumed, and pretending to like each other.
The younger nobles were easy to spot: proud postures, designer clothes, and expressions that screamed my father owns a duchy, therefore I'm better than you.The academy students weren't far behind — simpler uniforms, but the sharp confidence of those who earned their place through talent rather than birthright.
The line between them was invisible but solid — like an invisible wall of superiority. And me? I stood awkwardly on that line, with no clue where to go.
See, the thing is — I've never been a social butterfly. Not in my old world, not here.I'm not shy or anxious or anything like that. I just… don't see the point of talking unless something important needs to be said. I observe. I listen. And then I quietly judge people in my head. That's my thing.
So, while everyone else was forming pretty little political circles, I was trying not to look like a lonely idiot standing near a hedge. Thankfully, Serenya — my ever-perfect cousin and one of the novel's heroines — decided to save me from my noble wallflower act.
"The princess is here," she said softly, brushing back a strand of her silver hair. "Come on."
And off she went, her steps graceful and deliberate, like the world itself adjusted to let her pass.
I followed, maintaining a respectful half-step behind, trying to look like someone important instead of a confused background character following the heroine's glow.
The princess was hard to miss.
Princess Elara Veytharic — the jewel of the Veytharic Empire. Blonde hair that shimmered like liquid sunlight, eyes of ocean blue that seemed to hold mischief and kindness in equal measure, and a smile that could probably start or stop wars depending on her mood.
Beside her stood Prince Aldric Veytharic, her twin — dark-haired, silver-eyed, and radiating quiet authority. If Elara was the sun, Aldric was the moon — cool, calculating, always observing.
In the novel, he wasn't the protagonist, but he might as well have been. Readers adored him — intelligent, cunning, compassionate when needed, ruthless when it mattered.And then the author, in their infinite cruelty, killed him off halfway through the story for a "tragic plot twist."
The twist which could even confuse the readers who had read the novel like holy bible.
But, no sympathy from me. Because that clever bastard? he is sharp...too sharp. He's exactly the kind of person who could figure out that I'm not from this world.
When Serenya approached, Elara's face lit up. "Serenya! You're finally here!"
They hugged — all soft laughter and noble etiquette. The kind of greeting that made nearby young nobles glance with envy.
Then the princess turned to me. "And of course — Rishi. It's been a long time."
"Indeed," I said, bowing slightly. "The last time we met, I believe I spilled tea on your royal dress."
Elara laughed, covering her mouth. "You remember that? I was going to say you've grown, but apparently, you haven't changed much."
"Ah, but I have," I said with a straight face. "Now I spill tea with precision and confidence."
That earned me a giggle — a dangerous one. Every young noble within earshot probably just marked me as the daring one. Great. I could already feel incoming social headaches.
Then my eyes met the prince's.
Aldric regarded me with calm curiosity. His gaze wasn't cold — just sharp. The kind of look that didn't merely see you, but understood you. I could practically feel him dissecting me like a puzzle.
"Rishi," he said quietly. His tone was polite, but there was a hidden edge — like a blade wrapped in silk. "You've been keeping to yourself lately. We don't see you at noble gatherings."
Ah, so the observer speaks.
I gave him a lopsided smile. "Well, Your Highness, I've always believed that words are like arrows — they should be used sparingly, or someone ends up bleeding."
His lips quirked — just barely. "A wise sentiment. Though sometimes silence can wound more deeply than words."
Oh great, I thought. A philosopher prince. The deadliest kind.
Still, I had to admit — I respected him. He didn't talk much, but every word carried weight. No wasted motion, no unnecessary flattery. A man who listened first, spoke second, and calculated always.
Dangerous? Absolutely. Admirable? A little.
He shifted his gaze toward Serenya, then back to me. "I heard about your awakening. Dual cores — quite impressive."
"Ah, yes," I said. "A complete accident, really. I tripped, fell into destiny, and forget to form aether core and came out with two cores. Happens all the time."
Elara laughed again, but Aldric only smiled faintly — the kind of smile that said, I'll figure out why you did that.
I silently cursed the author again for making him that smart and nosy.
The conversation flowed easily after that. Elara talked about court life and the constant influx of political guests; Serenya chimed in about her training and studies; Aldric occasionally added a cutting remark that made everyone laugh politely — even if half of them probably didn't understand the double meaning behind his words.
And me? I stood there, sipping my drink, adding sarcastic comments when necessary and trying not to draw too much attention.
Inside, though, I felt oddly... at ease.
It had been so long since I'd talked with people my age. Sure, half of them were potential walking plot disasters, but still — it felt good to just talk. Maybe I'd gotten too used to being alone with Lira and my sarcastic monologues.
Just as I was starting to relax, the air suddenly changed.
A pulse of power rolled through the garden — strong enough to make the air itself vibrate. The faint scent of mana and ozone filled the space. Conversations stopped mid-sentence. Even the laughter froze.
A knight in black-and-gold armor stepped forward, his voice echoing like thunder.
"By decree of His Majesty, the Awakening Pool Ceremony shall now commence. All chosen participants, please gather."
The ground beneath us shimmered — intricate lines of glowing runes forming into a massive teleportation circle. I barely had time to think before light swallowed everything.
When it faded, I was standing in the Awakening Hall.
It was a colossal underground chamber, carved from stone that pulsed faintly with ancient mana. The centerpiece was breathtaking — a massive pool filled with luminous blue liquid that rippled like liquid starlight. Dozens of runic pillars surrounded it, humming with restrained power.
This was the Awakening Pool, the Empire's greatest treasure — capable of amplifying a person's second awakening, revealing their deeper potential, and sometimes even altering destiny itself.
And above it hovered the Heart of the Pool — a glowing sphere of condensed aether, said to be made from the remnants of a fallen star.
Standing at the head of the platform were three figures — each radiating a power that made my bones hum.
The Emperor, regal and commanding, his every breath carrying authority.The Archduchess of Storms, her presence electric and alive.And lastly — my grandfather, the Archduke of Frost and Fire, whose calm coldness could silence an army.
Just looking at them, I could tell: these were people who didn't rule power — they were power.
The Emperor raised his hand, and silence blanketed the hall. "Let the ceremony begin."
I glanced sideways. Elara stood poised, calm and radiant. Aldric watched everything quietly, eyes calculating even now. Serenya gave me a reassuring smile — confident, steady, like she always was.
And me?I was equal parts nervous and excited.
This was it — one of the greatest events in the novel. The moment destinies were rewritten, and the balance of power subtly shifted.
And this time… I wasn't just watching from the sidelines.
I was part of it.
I took a deep breath, smirking to myself.
"Alright, world," I murmured under my breath. "Let's see how an extra breaks your script."