The smell of roasted herb chicken filled the modest kitchen, mingling with the faint scent of parchment and old ink that lingered in the air. A pot of vegetable stew simmered beside a bowl of steaming rice, and the gentle crackle of garlic frying to golden perfection added an inviting warmth to the room.
Xhaelyn had learned how to cook from her second life's mother.
She set two plates on the low table, her movements deliberate and practiced. Grey remained in her wheelchair, observing with a look of lazy disinterest, as though waiting for the table to set itself. When nothing happened, she sighed dramatically.
"I liked it better when I was the only one doing nothing," she muttered.
Xhaelyn didn't respond. She simply slid Grey's plate closer to her and sat down, lifting her spoon without a word.
"You're welcome," Grey added dryly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Xhaelyn didn't look up, but her lips twitched in a barely concealed smile. "You're welcome."
They ate in comfortable silence, the only sounds the occasional clink of utensils and the low hum of the stove. The quiet had become a sort of unspoken ritual between them: Xhaelyn would cook, Grey would critique, and they'd share a meal as if the world outside didn't exist.
Once the plates were empty, Grey leaned back in her chair, wiping her mouth with a napkin, her movements surprisingly graceful for someone who rarely moved.
Despite her lazy demeanor, she seemed to have a strange obsession with etiquette.
"…So," Grey began, her tone shifting to something less playful, "about what you said earlier."
Xhaelyn raised an eyebrow, glancing at her but not quite meeting her gaze. "Are you bringing that up because you've approved the business expansion?"
"No," Grey replied, her eyes meeting Xhaelyn's, no longer masked by sarcasm.
Xhaelyn paused, studying her. "I can assure you—even if the risk is high, the returns will be higher."
Grey snorted. "You think I'm worried about profits?"
Xhaelyn narrowed her eyes, suspicion rising. "…Aren't you?"
"I'm worried about you, idiot," Grey muttered, her voice quieter now.
The words hung in the air, unexpected, and the room fell silent.
Grey didn't look at her, choosing instead to stare at a crack in the ceiling as if it had personally offended her. There was no usual teasing edge in her tone. It was softer, quieter—still dry, but sincere in a way Xhaelyn hadn't heard before.
"You've changed since you got here. Bit by bit, your stoic, guarded demeanor's been chipping away. You don't flinch at sudden sounds anymore. You laugh more. You sleep deeper. You even hum when you cook. And now…"
Grey studied Xhaelyn, her gaze sharp, like she could see through her.
"I'm not pretending I don't know why you picked that place. I'm not buying your 'business expansion' excuse."
Xhaelyn stiffened. "So, from the very start, you knew?"
Grey's grin was almost lazy, but her eyes remained sharp. "You're the prodigy they took from Worz, the one Crimsonclaw found in the Duskwither Forest. Am I wrong?"
Xhaelyn froze, her breath caught in her throat.
"…What?" she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.
Grey shrugged, nonchalant. "I only found out after I took you in. It's a coincidence, really."
"You—" Xhaelyn's voice cracked, and she swallowed hard to steady herself. "You're lying."
"I'm not." Grey's expression softened, and she leaned forward slightly, her usual teasing tone replaced with something more genuine. "I really want you to be my sibling because... well, I saw my old self in you."
The words hit Xhaelyn harder than she expected. For a moment, she was lost for words. "If you really want me as a sibling, why did you investigate my background?"
Grey let out a quiet sigh, her gaze drifting back to the crack in the ceiling. Her voice became steady, without the usual edge of sarcasm.
"Because I wanted to make sure you were safe."
Xhaelyn blinked in confusion. "…What?"
"I didn't dig because I was suspicious of you," Grey clarified. "I dug because people like you don't just vanish without someone trying to find them—or silence them."
She met Xhaelyn's eyes, a new intensity in her gaze. "And I wanted to know what kind of trouble might come knocking at my door."
Xhaelyn remained silent, her hands gripping the edges of her lap. The pieces started to fall into place, and her mind spun with the implications.
"I didn't do it to use you. And I'm not asking anything from you," Grey continued, her tone softening. "Hell, I didn't even think you'd stay this long."
Xhaelyn stared down at her hands, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her.
"But here you are," Grey added with a scoff. "Cooking dinner and humming in my kitchen. It's a lot more than I expected."
"…You still should've told me."
"Maybe," Grey admitted, her voice losing its usual sharpness. "But you weren't ready. I've seen that look in your eyes before. The kind that says, 'If you push, I'll run.' So I waited."
Xhaelyn remained silent, her shoulders slumping slightly as though a weight had been lifted, yet something heavier had replaced it.
"…So," Grey said after a long pause, a teasing glint returning to her voice, "still planning to disappear without saying goodbye, or should I start charging rent?"
Xhaelyn couldn't help but let out a soft, breathy laugh, the tension easing for a moment.
But then, something else crossed her mind. "Sister Grey... since you investigated my background... you must know my true identity, then?"
Grey's eyes lingered on her for a long moment before she sighed dramatically. "What I said earlier is all I found out. Crimsonclaw found you in the Duskwither Forest…"
Xhaelyn fell silent, her thoughts racing. Did I really transmigrate here with my body regressed to 7 years old? But if that's the case, why were my injuries so severe when I woke up? The bruises, the cuts… they shouldn't have been that bad when I ran away from the duskrend beast, right?
Was that all she found? Or is Grey's intel really limited? Ugh, frustrating.
Grey's voice cut through her thoughts. "Xhae. You're not listening. I'll charge you five Lira for wasting my breath, and another five for my time."
"Sister Grey!" Xhaelyn snapped out of her thoughts, glaring.
Grey was already wheeling herself toward the door, her voice fading as she left the room. "The discussion about your 'business expansion' will be paused for now. Tomorrow, we're getting ourselves an identification card. Can't implement your plan without one. The business isn't even registered yet."
Xhaelyn was dumbfounded, her eyes twitching in disbelief.
The next morning, Xhaelyn wakes up early at exactly 4 am. She does her morning routine, brushes her teeth, changes her clothes to a comfortable outfit, warms up, and proceeds with her body training that also includes running outside. When it is already 5:30, she returns to her room, rests for half an hour, and takes a bath.
After preparing breakfast, she went to Grey's room. As she was about to knock, it suddenly opened. A flash of surprise flickered in her eyes.
Eh? Is this really Grey? She's supposed to be sleeping soundly at this hour, and I have to wake her up to prepare and eat breakfast.
Upon glancing at the girl in a wheelchair, Xhaelyn noticed that Grey's outfit is not the casual clothes she wears every day. Did the sun rise in the west? What was this girl up to?
Xhaelyn's eyebrows furrowed slightly, but before she could speak, a lazy reprimanding voice reached her ears. "What's with that outfit? Are you planning to go to the Eryndral Registry Office like that?"
Huh?
It felt surreal, like time had blinked past. Hours had gone by, and now Xhaelyn was seated across from Grey in a carriage.
Cheek propped on her fist, Grey lazily watched the girl across from her, her gaze distant. Xhaelyn's long, enchanting hair was neatly braided, securely fastened to her scalp. Perched on her head was a maroon beret, complementing her attire—an elegant yet modest maroon dress. Grey's eyes gleamed with satisfaction; she was the one who had chosen Xhaelyn's outfit.
"Xhae."
Xhaelyn snapped from her thoughts when she was suddenly called. She met Grey's eyes. "Sister Grey?"
"When is your birthday?"
My birthday? Xhaelyn pondered. The reminder caught her off guard. She realized that in her previous lives, her birthdays had always been the same. Should I use it here too?
She mapped it out mentally, aligning it with Eryndral's calendar. I was born on May 18. Eryndral's calendar is divided into twelve months, each reflecting the essence of its respective dominion: from Velmaris, Aldwyn, Xendrae, Zyphros, Rahzekar, Ozyrel, Concorde, Dregorn, Verenis, Myxaris, Naythir, to Duskarin. Each month consists of 30 days, making a total of 360 days per year. Today is the 1st Day of Ozyrel, in the 914th year... A.F.D., right? After the Founding of the Dominions. Considering everything, after Grey took her in, Xhaelyn mentioned that she was seven...
Xhaelyn pursed her lips and spoke softly, "I... It was on Rahzekar 18, Year 906 A.F.D."
The typically sluggish Grey was taken aback but quickly recovered, saying, "Should I thank you for not saying anything? I saved a fortune by not throwing you a party."