"Boo chak!"
A playful voice broke through the stillness of the room—a tone filled with mirth and mischief.
I blinked up at her—this woman who had spent the last few weeks amusing herself with my infant reactions. Her rosy cheeks matched the rose-red hue of her hair, cascading in gentle waves past her shoulders. She wore an elegant dress of white and pink, clearly designed for comfortable indoor wear. Her every move carried a motherly charm that left little doubt in my mind—this woman must be my mother.
She was smiling again, cooing at me while trying to coax another burst of laughter. I indulged her once or twice with a giggle—more for show than anything else. How long do I have to keep this up? I groaned internally, though my tiny body let out a gurgle instead.
I sighed—or at least, that's what I intended to do. What came out was an unintelligible series of baby sounds. Does every reincarnator have to endure something like this?
At my mother's side stood a maid, quietly observing the scene. Dressed in a pristine uniform, she exuded an air of professionalism, though her features softened as she glanced at me. She spoke to my mother in a foreign language I didn't recognize—an alien string of syllables I couldn't yet comprehend. Still, there was one word I had heard repeatedly over the past few weeks:
Rose.
It must be her name. My mother's name.
The maid gestured, asking if she could hold me, but my mother waved her off with a gentle shake of her head. Smiling warmly, she cradled me closer and continued her playful antics, speaking in that unfamiliar tongue.
I sighed again—well, I tried to. It was time to execute my master plan.
I began to cry.
Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of mild panic. "Oh, dear! What's wrong, my sweet?" she murmured, patting my back in an attempt to calm me down.
The maid moved closer, offering assistance, but my mother waved her off again, determined to handle it herself.
Cradling me in her arms, she stepped out of the room and into the hallway.
My mock tantrum had worked.
Finally, I had the chance to observe my surroundings. The corridor we entered was grandiose and elegant, with walls and columns crafted from polished marble and granite.
The walls had a light caramel hue, complemented by intricate gothic designs framing tall windows that let in streams of golden sunlight. Despite the hard materials, the space felt warm and inviting.
It didn't take long for me to realize something crucial, when the moment i opened my eyes for the first time. I quickly assesed judging by the grandeur of the room I'd been in earlier, the maid attending to us, and the sophistication of my mother's attire, one thing was certain:
I had been born into a noble family. How lucky.
Before I could think further, we stepped into an expansive garden. A gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers, and sunlight reflected off a large pond in the center. Stone pathways branched out from the pond, leading toward what seemed to be a lake or river in the distance.
The sheer beauty of it all was almost overwhelming.
Taking steady steps into the garden, my mother strolled leisurely with me in her arms. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the vibrant flowers swaying in the breeze.
She walked along the stone paths, pausing occasionally to point out various flowers and plants, her voice soft and melodic as she spoke to me.
I couldn't understand a single word she said, aside from the one I'd heard repeatedly over the past few weeks: Frynn.
My name, i suppose.
She carried me toward the large pond at the garden's center. Her expression lit up as she pointed at the water, her tone brimming with excitement. Fish darted just beneath the surface, their scales shimmering in the fading sunlight.
My mother leaned closer, her words now directed at me as though she were introducing me to the fish.
I felt a pang of guilt. Despite her enthusiasm, I had been silent and unresponsive, giving her nothing but blank stares earlier. Deciding to humor her, I let out a series of baby sounds—nonsensical gurgles and coos.
Big mistake.
Her face lit up like a firework display, and she immediately showered me with kisses—on my forehead, my puffy cheeks, everywhere.
I screamed internally.
But seeing the pure joy on her face as she held me close, I relented. I guess it's… fine.
The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way. My mother walked us through the garden, showing me more flowers and the distant paths, until the sun finally dipped below the horizon. The warm light faded into the cool hues of twilight, and she carried me back inside.
The evening routine began. First, a bath—a mildly uncomfortable experience, though she was gentle and careful. Next, feeding, which was… well, best left unmentioned.
Then came the "family time."
It was exhausting. My mother carried me into a grand room filled with people—clearly family members. Their faces lit up the moment I entered, and every single one of them seemed eager to shower me with attention. It felt less like bonding and more like being an exhibit at the zoo.
Time for another escape plan.
Feigning exhaustion, I let my eyelids droop and emitted a small, contented sigh. My mother's eyes softened, and she cradled me gently, murmuring something I couldn't understand as she carried me off to her bedroom.
The room was spacious and grand, yet comforting. She placed me in the center of a queen-sized bed that was just slightly larger than average.
Lying down beside me, she began to softly tap my tiny stomach, coaxing me into sleep.
It seemed tonight, it was just the two of us. I hadn't seen any sign of my father tonight, and the topic of my family… well, I'd think about that later.
Finally, peace.
....Ah, I'm so bored.
The me right now couldn't even do anything. Compared to the protagonists in the stories I've read, who could sense mana, read books, or even use their limbs at this stage, I was utterly helpless. Then again, they were probably older in their reincarnated bodies.
I sighed internally. I was barely a 10 weeks old. For now, the only thing I could do was be patient and with time, I'd start to piece together the language my mother spoke and understand the world around me.
Just as I was settling into my thoughts, a gentle humming reached my ears. It was my mother's voice, soft and soothing—a lullaby.
My mother's voice drifted through the quiet room, carrying a lullaby that seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket. The sound was comforting and soothing.
I never thought I'd experience something like this: a live ASMR lullaby, just for me.
Well, maybe being a baby has its perks too.
As her melody washed over me, my thoughts began to fade, and I drifted off into sleep.
———
The sunlight pierced through my eyelids, making me groan softly. I tilted my head into the softness of the pillow, trying to escape the morning.
"Come on, sweetheart, get up," a motherly voice called out, gentle but firm. It was my mom, Rosalind.
I lay there for a moment, unmoving, before lazily raising my small body. My head drooped low as I mumbled, "Mmm-kay."
She knelt in front of me, smiling, and before I knew it, her arms scooped me up effortlessly. Carrying me toward the bathroom, she pushed open the door.
Inside, I saw someone I'd become familiar with over the years—my nanny, Risu, the maid who always cared for me when my mom wasn't around. She was already preparing a warm bath, steam rising gently from the water.
"Here, take this," Mom said, handing me a small toothbrush already coated with toothpaste.
"Okay," I replied shortly, grabbing it.
At this point, I could fully understand what they were saying—a blessing, honestly. And my age? Four years old now. Finally.
After brushing my teeth, spitting, and rinsing my mouth, I handed the toothbrush back to my mom, who placed it neatly into the container. Without missing a beat, she lifted me up again.
"Mom, I can walk," I protested.
She only hummed in response, carrying me to the bathtub.
The water was warm—perfectly so, not too hot or cold for the chilly morning. Mom took a water dipper before I could reach for it and poured the water over me.
"Mom, I can bathe myself," I said, my voice tinged with mild exasperation.
She shrugged it off with a small smile.
"It's not every day I get to bathe you."
What could I say to that? Nothing, apparently. I resigned myself to her fussing over me.
Once the bath was over and I was dressed, it was time for breakfast.
The dining room was grand, the table long and adorned with polished silverware and elegant floral arrangements. Despite its size, only a few of us were present:
my mom, Rosalind, my other two mothers, and one of my brothers.
Yes, you heard that right. My father has three wives.
Starting with my first mother-in-law, Auriela. She was the first wife, a baroness from a human country. Despite looking like she was in her early thirties, I'd overheard whispers that she was older than that—a secret she kept well.
Auriela had light blonde hair that cascaded in soft waves, and sharp brown eyes that held a commanding presence. Her warm white skin was smooth, giving her a timeless beauty, as if she'd stepped straight out of a painting. Today, she wore a long, elegant dress of cream and gold, with lace accents that added to her refined image.
Then there was Seraphina, my third mother. She was a duchess from the witch country. Her skin was a warm brown, her auburn hair tied back in an intricate braid that glimmered under the morning light, and her dark green eyes held a calm, mysterious air. She wore a flowing dress of deep emerald with accents of bronze, her look radiating both sophistication and power.
As for my mom, Rosalind—well, she's a demonic demi-human, a nine-tailed fox. Her fiery red hair shimmered even in the soft indoor lighting, cascading down her back like molten silk. Her violet eyes held a depth that made her seem both playful and wise. Today, she wore a simple yet elegant gown of white with pink accents, a comfortable but dignified look for the morning.
Then again…where were her fluffy ears and tails? I'd never seen them.
Maybe she hides them, I thought. She probably only shows them when she transforms.
Hmm…if Mom's a nine-tailed fox, does that make me one too?
No idea, I mused. Only time would tell.
Also seated at the table was one of my three older brothers, Fenyr, the son of Auriela and my father. He was already a teenager, his hair the same light blonde as his mother's, and his sharp black eyes held a mischievous glint.
Sitting beside me on my left, he caught me staring.
"Hm? What's wrong, Frynn?" he asked, turning to face me fully. "I know I'm handsome, but you shouldn't stare at people like that. It's impolite."
I blinked at his comment, then rolled my eyes slightly. "Sure, brother Fenyr," I replied, my tone as dry as toast.
Across from me, Auriela stifled a chuckle at our interaction.
The table arrangement was simple. I sat beside my mother, Rosalind, who was to my right. Fenyr sat to my left. Across from my mom was Auriela, and Seraphina was seated beside her.
Pushing aside the morning banter and conversations, I turned my attention to the food in front of me and began eating silently.