The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

After Clara diligently completed her reports, the young man's gaze returned to Alice, his eyes fixed on her with unwavering intensity. With a deep breath, he mustered the courage to speak, his voice now infused with a solemn tone. "Alice, once again, I must express my feelings to you," he began, his words hanging in the air, pregnant with anticipation.

His hand reached out, extending towards Alice's, as he knelt beside Clara, their surroundings fading into insignificance compared to the captivating figure before him.

As the young man's heartfelt confession resonated through the air, a chorus of screams erupted from the surrounding girls and young ladies. Jealousy smoldered within the boys, their eyes ablaze with envy, casting glances of longing towards the young man. The atmosphere crackled with the intensity of emotions, each person caught in the spell of this poignant moment.

However, Alice's countenance remained unmoved, her gaze unyielding as she met the young man's ardent stare. She released the hand he held and, with a determined motion, raised her head to gaze upon the vast expanse of the blue sky above. Her response carried no trace of the elation felt by the onlookers. "My answer remains unchanged, senior," she replied, her voice tinged with a resolute calmness.

Although the young man may have been deemed handsome and gentle by others, Alice saw in him a hint of vulnerability—a man who appeared unsteady at the sight of blood or when confronted with the reality of violence.

Had he ever felt the weight of taking a life with his own hands? Could he comprehend the haunting image of a dying person, their plea for help echoing in the moments before their final breath? These were the questions that had been posed to her by her brother, questions that had lingered in her mind for years.

Day by day, she found herself comparing the attitudes of other young men to her brother's, her mother's words resurfacing like a persistent undertow.

"Remember, Alice, your brother was a prodigy. Though still a child, you should regard him as a young man. So when you embark on your academic journey, bear him in mind before you compare yourself to any other boy."

The realization of her mother's true intentions brought forth a wry smile. Her mother had never wished for her to have a boyfriend, hence the advice. Perhaps she wanted Alice to avoid the same fate—falling in love during her youth only to regret it later. Yes, that must be why they kept their distance, Alice mused inwardly.

Yet, despite her attempts to guard her heart, she couldn't help but measure every suitor against her brother's stature. Disappointment washed over her as she shook her head, resigned to the fact that none of the boys or young men who had professed their love had truly captured her attention.

Except for Martin.

He was her senior, renowned throughout the academy for his remarkable capabilities that had earned him a coveted position in the prestigious A-class, much like Alice herself. In fact, he held an even higher rank due to his exceptional talent. Martin's reputation preceded him—an arrogant and domineering individual who exuded pride.

Yet, when he stood before her, he shed his veneer of superiority, transforming into an ordinary young man, desperately trying to win the favor of his future wife.

This facade disgusted Alice, and she refused to let her true sentiments be known, prompting him to treat her with an uncharacteristic gentleness—a delicate dance of illusion and deception.

In the midst of her contemplation, Alice's thoughts were interrupted by the recollection of Clara's words. "Elizabeth and Diana..." she muttered, realizing that it had been quite some time since she last saw them. Memories of Diana's mother persistently pushing for her brother to marry her daughter resurfaced, causing a twinge of unease.

As a child, she had been bothered by the idea of her beloved brother being taken away by another woman. And yet, even then, she couldn't deny the conflicting emotions she felt towards him.

"We are siblings, bound by blood. I cannot become his wife or concubine," she whispered inwardly, the weight of this realization weighing heavily on her. Just the thought of it brought forth a deep sorrow. She had tirelessly searched for a solution to this quandary, desperately seeking a way to resolve the complexity of their blood ties, but all her attempts had proven futile.

Meanwhile, Clara, ever watchful of her young lady's countenance, observed her distress and became consumed by anger, glaring fiercely at the figure of Alice's persistent senior. "It's because of you!" Clara seethed, clenching her fists tightly.

On the other hand, Desmond found himself standing in awe as he entered the grand villa. The immense space unfolded before him, featuring a magnificent tripoint staircase at its center. The room exuded opulence, with a rich red carpet adorning the floor and elegant red draperies hanging from the grand chandelier above.

Compared to his own humble abode, this house was twice the size and oozed even more luxury. Upon his arrival, he noticed numerous doors lining the sides of the room, leading to quarters for the maids. On the other side, similar to his own house, there was a compact kitchen and dining area.

Behind the staircase, there was no room, only a grand bathroom and smaller ones, designated for the maids and guards who resided within the house. "So, young master, what do you think? Isn't it splendid?" the old man asked, beaming with pride as he emerged from behind Desmond.

Desmond was momentarily speechless, pondering if the old man truly desired his praise so desperately. He gazed at him and replied genuinely, "It's impressive. You have excellent taste."

He continued, his curiosity piqued, "Now, where is the meeting room?"

"Ah, yes, please follow me," the old man eagerly responded. Desmond's praise had sparked such delight that the wrinkles on the old man's cheeks began to resurface.

Nodding, Desmond, along with Laura and Annie, followed the old man through the house. As they ascended to the second floor, they passed numerous doors, giving the house a similar appearance to Desmond's own residence in the capital, albeit on a much larger scale.

However, as they reached the central area of the second floor, they were greeted by a spacious room, featuring a long table extending to the far end. Resting atop the table was a sprawling map, a combination of the North Kingdom, Helmfirth city, and other cities within the realm.

The old man, overcome with excitement, repeatedly muttered, "How, how, how?" His eyes were fixed on Desmond, his hands clasped together in a fervent display of passion. Several maids were present in the room, diligently cleaning with broomsticks and brooms. They nodded in acknowledgement upon Desmond's arrival, refraining from laughter at the old man's childlike enthusiasm.

Suppressing a chuckle, Desmond couldn't help but think that, if circumstances were different, he would pat the old man on the shoulder and toss him a bone to play with. "Good job as always," Desmond replied, his face twitching slightly, grateful for the old man's unwavering dedication.

"Furthermore, gather all the guards and secure the entrance. Instruct the maids to maintain vigilant watch over the surroundings. My plan carries significant risks, and I wish to execute it with utmost urgency," Desmond continued, his tone growing more solemn as he emphasized the importance of their preparations.

Responding to Desmond's gravity, the old man's demeanor shifted accordingly, his tone now strict and resolute. "Understood, young master. Give me a moment, and I will summon the guards. You can rest assured," he assured Desmond, speaking in a rapid succession of words that left Desmond feeling satisfied with his efficiency and commitment.