Reroll: I Brought Sarcasm To A Sword Fight

I walked a little further down the long corridor, Gareth and Isolde flanking me like silent shadows.

Gareth stopped in front of a tall wooden door but didn't open it right away.

Come on, I thought. Open it already, my food's waiting.

"Young Master Henry is entering the dining room," Gareth announced with infuriating formality.

How tedious. All this pomp and protocol... Just wait until I'm older. I'll tear these customs to shreds.

The door creaked open, and the warm, golden light inside revealed the dining table at last.

My gaze was still glued to the food when I finally noticed my mother and father already seated.

"You should greet your family," Mnex said, his tone laced with condescension.

"Good morning, Mother," I said to Lady Adelaide. "Good morning, Father."

Lady Adelaide sat poised with her back straight, every gesture elegant to the point of calculation. Her golden hair was swept up with delicate gemstone pins, and her clear blue eyes held a calm sharpness. Despite her poised exterior, the subtle curve of her stomach reminded me she was with child, graceful even in pregnancy.

"Ugh. Hopeless," Mnex muttered.

What? What did I do wrong?

"You should address them as, 'Good morning, Mother. Good morning, my lord Father.' Don't forget, you no longer live in some forgotten backwater. These people are nobility," he scolded.

Then, with a touch more flair: "...Or, if you're feeling poetic, say 'I greet you with the sun, Father and Mother.' That's what I used to say."

What were you making me say back when I wasn't in control, huh?

"Nothing important," he said smugly. "At least I didn't make you say anything that would tarnish my reputation."

Ugh. So this is how I have to speak now? You could've at least given me a heads-up before abandoning me to your theatrical nonsense, I thought.

Shameless.

To my relief, neither of them seemed bothered by my poor performance in etiquette.

"Come, sit next to me, my dear son," Mother said, patting the chair beside her.

Even she's more helpful than you, I grumbled inwardly.

"I'm not your parent," Mnex snapped. "I'm a prisoner here, trapped with you for eternity."

Oh, poor thing. And what about me, huh?

Huh?

I walked toward my chair and stared at it like a climber about to tackle a small mountain. The cushion on it looked like it was made of money. With some effort, I climbed up, knees first, then wiggled around until I was sitting somewhat upright. Legs dangling. Arms slightly flailing.

No one helped.

No one offered.

Apparently, nobles respect independence in toddlers.

Mother didn't move. Father barely blinked. I could've broken my neck and they would've clapped for my determination.

She gently touched my shoulder as I sat, a gesture brief but oddly comforting. I blinked, was that affection?

Father sat at the head of the table like a carved statue, tall and composed, with raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes. He had the kind of handsomeness that demanded silence, and a presence that filled the room even without a word.

I sat between my mother and father. Father was at the head of the table, I was to his left, and Mother sat next to me.

It was a big table, not absurdly massive like the ones in anime, but large enough. I counted in my head: twelve chairs. Definitely a special-occasion setup.

The walls were hung with muted tapestries, likely worth more than my old apartment. My steps echoed across the stone tiles like I was intruding on a ritual.

The table was covered in crisp white linen, but that wasn't what caught my eye.

Food. Glorious food.

There was fresh bread, golden butter, and a glistening apple jam that looked almost too pretty to eat. In the center were slices of bacon and boiled eggs, and a neat little chunk of cheese placed before each seat.

Oh, thank the heavens. Finally, something decent to eat.

"At first, I thought you wouldn't like this," Mnex mused. "But after reviewing your former eating habits, I concluded this might be the most nutritious meal you've ever had. In either life."

"Nutritional efficiency score: 82%," Mnex intoned. "Quite luxurious considering the fiber content."

As if on cue, Isolde and the other servants stepped in and began preparing our plates. A pale, pinkish liquid was poured into my parents' glasses.

She lifted a glass of dark berry infusion, fragrant and warm, but far from wine.

"Diluted wine, for your father. Fruit infused water for your mother" Mnex explained. "And for you, warm milk."

He added, "Remember, your father must take the first bite before you eat."

Another rule. Let me add that to the list. One day, when I grow up, we're tossing all of this out the window.

"And when that day comes," Mnex interrupted, "don't forget to toss out your noble status, too."

So the privileges are tied to behavior, I thought. The fancier the title, the more rules you carry.

"Exactly! For once, you grasp something correctly, ignoramus," Mnex declared. "In fact, as your station rises, so too will the expectations. I should consider uploading proper etiquette into your mind. I knew you were unrefined, but the depth of your ignorance continues to astound me."

A headache bloomed behind my eyes.

"And no eating with your hands," he added. "Also, don't talk with your mouth full."

Yes, Mother Mnex.

We began eating in silence. No one spoke. No chewing noises, no clinking of cutlery, just dignified stillness.

And then there was me.

I dove into the food like a beast released from captivity, stuffing bite after bite into my mouth.

To be fair, I haven't tasted real food in 1003 years.

I could feel my parents' eyes on me. I looked up mid-chew, cheeks full. They stared back, surprised.

"Is there something on my face?" I mumbled. As I reached to wipe my mouth, my mother gently offered her napkin.

"No, dear. We've just never seen you eat with such… enthusiasm," she said with a soft smile.

"It's fine to eat like that with us once in a while," my father added, voice a bit firmer. "You're still a small child. Just don't make it a habit, Henry."

He ate with slow, deliberate grace, like a king pretending not to judge.

"The silence made me nervous," I admitted.

"Would you prefer we spoke during meals?" he asked.

"Well… if we chatted a bit, maybe it would help us grow closer as a family," I said.

That's what happy families do on TV, right? Talk during meals. I've never experienced it myself, but I assume that's how it's supposed to go...

"Hmm… Since you put it that way," Father said, setting down his fork. "I'll be leaving the mansion after breakfast. There's unrest growing among the farmers."

His tone shifted, measured and somber.

"The harvest was poor. They're dissatisfied, and Marquis Vance insists we can't lower taxes. It's my duty to keep the peace."

Mother gave him a sideways glance. "My dear, I don't think our son was hoping to hear about economic hardship when he suggested conversation at the table."

While they spoke, I took advantage of the moment to sneak a few more bites.

"Actually… *cough*… this gave me an idea," I said, bits of egg still in my mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" Mother and Mnex snapped in perfect sync.

"Sorry, Mommy," I said with exaggerated innocence. That one was for you, Mnex.

Mnex made a disapproving throat-clearing noise.

"Perhaps… if my lord Father allows… I could accompany you to the fields today?" I asked, widening my eyes and tilting my head ever so slightly. "I really want to see outside."

"If you think you look cute doing that," Mnex muttered, "you currently resemble a rat dragged out of the sewer and blended with a cockroach."

My face twitched.

Thankfully, Father was too deep in thought, chin in hand, to notice.

"Alright. But…" he paused, "I'm not going to play games or look after you. Take Gareth with you. If anything comes up, he'll handle it."

Then, using the same tone, he called out, "Gareth."

A second later, the door opened and Gareth stepped in.

Were you standing behind the door this whole time? Seriously?

Gareth walked toward my father with brisk, practiced steps, head bowed respectfully.

"Yes, my lord. Did you summon me?" he asked.

At least pretend you weren't eavesdropping, I thought. This kid needs to learn a thing or two about subtlety.

Then again… he's probably more useful to me exactly like this. Stay innocent, Gareth. Stay gloriously naïve.

"Today, Henry will accompany me," Father said. "We'll leave after breakfast, on horseback. Make the necessary preparations."

"As you command, my lord," Gareth replied.

He bowed and left the dining hall without another word.

"Be careful out there," Mother said, her voice softer now. "You'll be going beyond the walls."

Her hand hovered for a moment, as if tempted to pull me back, but she let it fall to her side. Her blue eyes lingered on mine, filled with quiet worry she refused to voice.

"Alright," I said.

"Alright," Father echoed at the same moment.

Mother chuckled. "His father's son," she murmured, reaching over to gently ruffle my hair.

After breakfast, I headed up to my room, expecting to find Gareth out of the dining room, waiting.

He wasn't.

Instead, I walked with Isolde down one of the quieter corridors.

That's when I truly noticed how the servants behaved.

Every time we passed one, they would pause their work, step aside, and lower their heads in silence.

Their movements were quiet, deliberate, like shadows trained to never draw attention.

"Hey… my father isn't some kind of cruel noble, right?" I asked Mnex.

"From what I've observed," Mnex said, adopting his favorite lecture tone, "your father is both respected and liked. These behaviors you're noticing, they're normal under the current order.

Your father is a noble. So are you.

They are not."

"Great!" I said, grinning.

"What exactly is great about that?" Mnex asked warily.

"It means that when I grow up, no one will make me do anything! I can sleep in, wake up whenever I want, and drink coffee in bed. Unlimited comfort, here I come!"

"I don't think you realize it," Mnex said, "but there's not a single person in this region who works harder than your father."

"You may not have noticed, but those dark circles under his eyes? That's sleep deprivation. And unless he and your mother are… *ahem*… otherwise preoccupied at night..."

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" I hissed.

"What I'm saying is this," he continued, unbothered. "Unlike most nobles, your father actually fulfills his role. Your family has governed this region for over two centuries. Not one of them ever chose comfort over duty."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," I replied with a grin.

Since all of this was happening in my head, I couldn't help but smile to myself.

Isolde glanced at me sideways, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she wasn't sure whether to be concerned or just assume I was insane.

I quickly straightened my expression.

"You truly are a fool," Mnex said. "Do you know what happens if you fail to keep your people happy?"

"What, do they complain to the king?" I asked.

"No, you idiot. They slit your throat while you sleep. Or poison your food. Or tie you to a stake and..."

"Enough! I get it!" I hissed, drawing in a sharp breath.

Sigh...

"So… I have to work harder than most?" I asked reluctantly.

"How quickly you forget your sacred oath to TABAAL," Mnex said coldly. "Shall I remind you word-for-word?"

"Ah, right. I did promise I'd work hard, didn't I?" I mumbled, pretending I'd forgotten.

Honestly, I wish I had. But ever since I woke up in this tiny body, my mind has been sharper. Too sharp. It won't let me

forget anything I say. And even if it did… Mnex definitely wouldn't.

"A side note," Mnex added as if delivering a weather report. "Coffee hasn't been discovered in this world. Yet."

"What?" I froze. "You're joking. No coffee?"

"If you want it so badly," he said, far too amused, "perhaps you should be the one to invent it."

"I..." I began, then paused.

"…Can I call it Henrino?"

It was perfect. Horrible, pun-laced, and deeply mine. Mnex hated it. Which meant I had to do it.

"I will smother you in your sleep," Mnex replied dryly.Not long after, Gareth arrived.

"Everything is ready," he said simply.

We stepped into the courtyard, and I blinked at the sudden morning light. The air smelled of damp stone, trimmed hedges, and a faint trace of hay from the nearby stables. For the first time, the world outside the mansion felt tangible.

He led me outside, where a strong, chestnut-colored horse waited.

Gareth mounted it gracefully, like a scene out of some knightly ballad.

Me? I was lifted under the arms, like a sack of potatoes, and unceremoniously handed up by Isolde.

I feel like a black potato. With legs.

"That feeling," Mnex said dryly, "stems from your inferiority complex."

Helpful as always, Mnex. Truly inspiring.