Hello everyone! I just wanted to inform you that I will be doing filler chapters. Though they will not be uncommon, it will happen when I don't know the direction for the next story chapter to be when I need to get a new chapter out. They will be significantly shorter, but that might not always be the case. You'll be able to tell which one is a filler chapter due to having an F after the number. So, just a heads up, I will be writing chapters every other day, excluding weekends. So if I put out a chapter on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, expect the next ones to be uploaded on Tuesday and Thursday. Anyways, to the chapter!
-Pacsonic22
As Ibraim rose from his bed, he soon got dressed in some loose-fitting clothes. While having motivation issues in his past life, they had mostly disappeared in this new life. Thus, he began his stereotypical workout routine. All of which included running a minimum of a mile around the castle, doing pullups in his room, followed by push-ups, sit-ups, and squats. As he continued his morning routine, he remained neutral to the untrained eye. But to him, he learned where most of the castle's peeping holes and blindspots are. This allows him to avoid his mother's spies while keeping his routine look natural. After his workout was completed, he returned inside, where a servant had started a bath for him.
After he finished his bath, Ibraim stepped out and dried himself off, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the steam. The servant bowed slightly before excusing themselves, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He dressed in a clean tunic and trousers, ones light enough to move freely in but formal enough not to invite questions from his mother's attendants.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Eyes sharp, posture disciplined, expression carefully composed. Every day, he was reminded that appearances mattered here more than sincerity. He sighed quietly and adjusted the collar of his shirt.
Breakfast was already being laid out in the smaller dining hall. The royal family rarely ate together unless it was for appearances, which suited him fine. The less interaction he had with his mother before noon, the better. He made his way down the corridor, passing through sunlit arches and marble halls, the faint sound of servants' chatter echoing off the walls. When he sat down, a servant poured him tea without a word. He stirred it absentmindedly, watching the ripples twist in the cup. His mind wandered. To the castle guards changing shifts, to the letters piling up in his study, and to the vague rumors he'd overheard the night before about an upcoming diplomatic visit. He didn't have much influence in politics, but he knew better than to ignore them. Power moved quietly, like poison in wine.
After finishing his meal, Ibraim stood and looked out the window overlooking the courtyard. A light breeze stirred the banners. He took a deep breath and stretched, readying himself for the day ahead. It would likely be uneventful; militia training, reports, new designs to be implemented, perhaps an errand or two, but uneventful days were a luxury in a place like this.
For now, that was enough.