Aidan watched as the woman stepped toward him. The entrance guards bowed deeply as she passed, her presence commanding silent deference until she stood before him.
"Oh my," she mused, her voice laced with amused elegance. "To think I would meet Liam's child—the future heir of the Wilson Estate—in such an informal setting." She bent slightly, bringing herself closer to his height, her fan snapping shut with practiced grace. "Child, do you know who I am?"
Aidan took a deliberate step back, his small hand pressing against his chest in a gesture mirroring adult formality. "My apologies, but I am unaware of who you are." His voice was steady, devoid of the hesitation expected of a boy his age.
Charlotte studied him—this child who didn't even reach her waist yet held himself with the confidence of someone above others. There was no anxiety in his gaze, only a quiet intensity as if he were the one appraising her. Her eyebrow arched. A bit surprising, as she had thought the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
This boy will become the same as them—like her, like Liam, like Edward, she thought.
This boy, too, felt worthy to her.
"To think you wouldn't even recognize your grandmother," she said, her smile sharp with cheeky delight. "My name is Charlotte Wilson." Straightening to her full height, she loomed like a queen. "Now, do you recognize me, Aidan Wilson?"
Aidan remembered now—this woman was Charlotte Wilson, Liam's stepmother. Her real son was Erwin, referred to as Lord Erwin in the palace and beyond. She was also the former Duchess of the Wilson Estate, something he had overheard maids and servants gossiping about.
She was extraordinarily beautiful, appearing no older than thirty. Dressed in an exquisite blue silk gown with intricate designs, she held a folded fan in her hand.
But it was her eyes that struck him most—piercing blue. And her hair—an impossible shade of sapphire, a colour he'd never seen before. Truly, she might be the only one who could rival Liam in looks.
"Did Liam or Sophia never mention me?" Charlotte asked, frowning slightly as she gestured toward the living hall's sofa. "Let's sit and talk."
She didn't wait for his reply—didn't glance back to see if Aidan followed. Her silk gown whispered against the marble floor as she strode ahead.
By the time Aidan reached the hall, she was already seated, her posture regal yet relaxed, as if claiming a throne.
"Well? Are you going to say something, or have I misjudged you?" She watched Aidan's clumsy walk as he scratched his head with both hands, as if frustrated.
Aidan, who had only wanted fresh air, felt irritated by the absurdity of it all.
"I came in only out of courtesy for your age, step-grandmother," Aidan said, pausing slightly. "If you have nothing important to discuss, I will take my leave now. And no, my father and mother did not mention you—or anyone, they only said, I will meet soon some people when they deem the time right.
The guards stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances at Aidan's reaction—something they hadn't expected.
"Oh my, what a sharp-tongued child. It seems you don't care much for your grandmother, do you?" she said, adopting a sad expression.
"Step-grandmother?" Aidan's voice was icy, his eyes locked onto hers—far too composed for a child his age. "It's almost amusing for you to say that!" A small chuckle escaped him. "You haven't tempered your mana—the cold still rolls off you in waves. And yet, you expect a four-year-old to sit with you in this chill?" His gaze remained unflinching. "Tell me, should I not take this as proof that you are the one who doesn't care for her grandson?"
Charlotte's half-smile faltered as she leaned forward, her fan pausing mid-sway. "How careless of me," she murmured, her voice truly confused. "I've grown so accustomed to moving among rankers that I've quite forgotten to restrain my mana..."
"Forgive me, Aidan," she said as she stood from the sofa, stepping closer. Now, with her aura restrained, she added, "It seems we started on bad footing. To make it up to you..." She produced a bracelet from nowhere. "Think of it as a small gift. This will help you fend off any weak aura that might affect your small body."
Aidan hesitated briefly before taking the bracelet. "I guess I can think about it," he said, his voice no longer sharp but oddly cute.
Why would I refuse something that can make me stronger? Aidan thought.
"Then I bid you farewell until our next encounter," Charlotte said, turning toward the castle. Her smile returned—sharp, but no longer mocking—as she thought.
He stands on his name, just like Liam once did…
As her heels clicked against the marble, a shadow shifted near her side. Without turning, she spoke with quiet amusement.
"Find everything you can about this brat. He's more of a monster than even his father."
A pause, and then a rare softness entered her voice.
"The last time I felt that kind of pressure from a child… it was Liam."
Her smile deepened—not cruel, but proud. "It seems I'm getting old."
Aidan finally made his way outside, the oppressive atmosphere having lifted.
He looked at the shining sun as he walked toward the garden. It had been over half a year since he started coming here, making his behaviour seem somewhat more normal to the household worker.
He took a seat on the grass at the left side of the garden, closer to the entry point. From a seated position, he lay down, using both hands as makeshift pillows.
His thoughts wandered—to Earth, to his past life. How much time had passed there? Had his friends survived? If they hadn't, had they also been reborn? He doubted such a thing could happen. How had his father dealt with the loss of his only support?
Those three were the only ones who had mattered in his old life—the ones he had loved and cherished from the bottom of his heart.
But now, he had a new life to live. A tear drop rolled down from the corner of his left eye. This new world, known as Maaya, seemed even crueler than Earth.
It was unfamiliar, and the weight of it all felt like a burden. While grateful for a family like the Wilsons, he still felt alone—something he knew all too well from his past life. At the same time, he had to hide his abilities, as if hiding himself.
Something he wasn't used to. Even on Earth, he had done as he wished—he stole, he killed, he fought, he played, he earned. For all of it, he had needed power, so he gained it. He became strong, both physically and financially, earning enough freedom to live unrestrained.
So he would do it again in this world. He would become free. He would live as he wished.
Aidan wiped away the tear as he opened his eyes, gazing at the sun while extending his arm. The warmth of its rays radiated against his palm as he reached out as if to grasp the sun itself.
As the wind rustled the grass, Aidan lay alone in the garden, bathed in sunlight.