Chapter: 1

The morning sun filtered through the frost-kissed glass of a grand window, casting fractured beams of light across the cold stone walls. A boy sat by the windowsill, his small frame outlined by the glow of sunlight. His shoulder-length indigo hair shimmered faintly in the light, and his piercing silver eyes gazed out at the town below. His expression, however, carried none of the warmth of the scene outside.

"To think I'd be reincarnated into a world like this," the boy muttered under his breath.

His name was Jayden Velgrath, though in another life, he had been Vincent Myer, an ordinary man in an ordinary world. Or so he remembered.

"Walking home from work one minute and getting hit by a car the next I knew I always had some bad luck." Jayden muttered.

The cold breeze coming through the cracked window reminded Jayden of the room he inhabited. He looked around, taking in the crumbling stone walls and worn wooden furniture. A faint scent of mildew clung to the air, and the frost creeping in from the edges of the window made the space feel more like a prison than a prince's room.

"This is supposed to be royalty?" Jayden scoffed.

With a resigned sigh, he stood and straightened the hem of his simple black tunic, trimmed with dull silver thread. It fit well enough, though it was worn and faded from repeated use. His dark breeches and scuffed leather boots completed the look, practical but hardly befitting a prince.

He stepped out into the corridor, but his path was immediately blocked as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Jayden turned his head, locking eyes with his older half-brother, Prince Richard Velgrath.

Richard stood a head taller, with short black hair and cold blue eyes that held an air of superiority. His crimson doublet, adorned with intricate gold embroidery, bore the family crest prominently on his chest. A jeweled dagger hung at his side, and his polished boots clicked faintly against the stone floor.

"Good morning, Brother," Jayden greeted, his tone laced with cold sarcasm.

Richard's grip tightened. "Watch your tone, bastard," he hissed.

Jayden's silver eyes narrowed as he brushed Richard's hand off his shoulder. "If that's all you have to say, kindly leave."

Richard's jaw tightened, but the sharp edge in Jayden's voice gave him pause. He took a step back, his expression twisting into a sneer.

"You should be grateful for even being allowed to exist, let alone speak to me that way." With a scoff, Richard turned and stalked off down the corridor, his boots echoing in the quiet.

Jayden watched him go, his fists clenched at his sides. "What a loving family I have," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

As he walked through the castle halls, the maids scurried out of his path, their whispers barely contained.

"Look, it's the demon prince," one murmured.

"I thought he wouldn't come out at this hour," another added.

Jayden stopped abruptly and turned to face them, his sharp gaze making them flinch.

"If you have something to say, say it to my face," he said, his voice cold and even.

The maids bowed hurriedly, muttering apologies before retreating down the corridor.

"Cowards," he muttered, resuming his walk.

Not long after, a familiar presence fell into step behind him.

"Good morning, Lord Jayden," came the calm, confident voice of Abigail, his personal maid.

She was a woman in her late twenties, with auburn hair neatly tied into a bun and sharp green eyes that missed nothing. Her maid's uniform was immaculate, and her movements carried an air of professionalism that set her apart from the other staff.

"Good morning, Abigail," Jayden replied, glancing back briefly.

"What would you like for breakfast this morning, my lord?" she asked, her tone polite but not subservient.

"My usual," Jayden said simply.

"Shall I bring it to your usual spot?"

"Yes." Jayden replied without looking back

"Understood." Abigail gave a slight bow and walked off without another word.

Jayden continued his trek until he stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The courtyard training ground stretched before him, long abandoned and overgrown in places. The worn posts and scattered debris told the story of knights who had once trained here, but for Jayden, it was a sanctuary.

He picked up a wooden sword leaning against one of the posts and began his routine. His movements were deliberate, each strike and swing flowing into the next with precision. The forms were ones he had studied through books and by observing the knights training from afar.

As he moved, his thoughts wandered.

'A bastard. A demon prince. A mistake. They've called me everything under the sun. But if they think I'll just disappear quietly, they're dead wrong. Knowledge is power, and I have more of it than they'll ever realize.'

A faint sound broke his concentration. He paused mid-swing and turned to see Abigail approaching with a tray in her hands.

"Your breakfast, Lord Jayden," she said, handing him the tray with practiced ease.

"Thank you, Abigail," Jayden said, taking it from her. He arched an eyebrow. "You took longer than usual. Is there something I should know?"

"The king has requested that you remain out of sight today. We have guests." Her tone was neutral, betraying nothing.

Jayden sighed, placing the tray down on a nearby crate. "Of course he has."

Abigail hesitated for a moment before bowing slightly. "Will that be all, my lord?"

"Yes, thank you. You may leave." Jayden said 

Abigail turned and left, her footsteps fading into the distance. Jayden sat down, taking a sip of his tea as he stared out over the empty field.

"Guests, huh?" he muttered. His lips curled into a humorless smile. "What a wonderful father I have."

He shook his head and stood, his grip tightening on the wooden sword. "Well, if I'm going to be ignored, I may as well make good use of the time."

And with that, he resumed his training, the sound of his strikes echoing across the forgotten field.

Chapter 1: End