Chapter Text
If Cale was a normal transmigrated person, he wouldn’t have any issue with the current situation. He would thank his lucky stars for the god-given second chance at life.
However, he knows that for a supposedly uncommon phenomenon, it seems to happen to him a lot, and it’s always a god’s fault. And since it concerns a god that is arrogant enough to throw his soul in bodies from different dimensions as he sees fit, Cale has, in fact, a lot of issues with the current situation.
It’s not because he’s a baby - that’s one of the only two things he finds appealing. All he does is breathe and eat and sleep for days, and he thinks if he could continue this for all eternity he would be happy. The only other thing that gives him joy is the fact that he is lucky enough to be born in another ducal house - the Ducal Family of Robain, according to the insignia on the maids’ robes - and they have a shit ton of money. His crib alone is covered in obnoxious frills and golden accents that scream rich as fuck.
But the rest is dogshit, and Cale wants a fucking refund. Take me back , he begs the floating stars above his crib. One of them falls off and smacks his face, and Cale releases a string of curses that come out as baby warbling.
“What’s wrong, Raziel?” A pair of arms wrap around his middle and pick him up, and then gently sway with him. “Are you hungry?”
Raziel . God’s secret. Cale clenches his fists, overcome by the sheer level of audacity.
In this life, he has an older brother. His name is Felix, and he’s so happy and enthusiastic and bright that Cale has to squint every time he looks at him - and even then, when Felix realises he’s staring, his face brightens so visibly that it’s like finding a light at the end of a very dark tunnel only to realise it’s the headlights of a train. It’s like Choi Han minus the trauma and high on energy drinks.
Even worse, Felix seems to find his frowning the most adorable thing on earth and will not cease touching the space between his furrowed brows.
He’s doing it again. Cale wriggles with all his might, trying to get away, and the devil only laughs louder.
“Look at him,” he says proudly to a maid as he holds Cale up for her to inspect. Cale locks eyes with her, and tries to express the full extent of his disapproval. “Isn’t he the prettiest baby you’ve ever seen?”
The maid nods. And nods again. She’s nodding so ferociously that Cale fears her head will fall off. “Young master, he’s beautiful! He’s going to become the handsomest being in the empire - no, the entire world!”
Aigoo…
A year later, on one of the rare moments where Felix and Duke Robain both back home from work and playing chess together as per usual, Cale nearly suffers a heart attack.
“Father, don’t you think Raziel is too… quiet, for a child?” Felix asks, moving his rook to eat the Duke’s bishop.
Cale freezes where he’s sitting inspecting the match, almost falling off the alphabet cubes he’s using as a throne.
Shit, was he supposed to cry more? He has no idea how babies work. Raon, On and Hong were probably not textbook examples of normal children, and even as Kim Rok Soo he hadn’t had the chance to interact with any babies.
The Duke mutters a curse under his breath as he watches his bishop be eradicated. “Well, he’s way more polite. You certainly had a pair of lungs in you when you were younger.”
Felix goes red and clears his throat. “I was a perfectly well-behaved child.”
At this, the Duke releases a rather inelegant snort; Felix savagely makes a move to trap his king as penance, and the snort quickly turns into a sound of outrage. His prodigal son beams across from him, the picture of innocence.
“You unfilial son,” he accuses, pointing a threatening finger that does absolutely nothing to dampen Felix’s infernal spirits. “Let your father win for once. I miss the days I used to trounce you at this game. You’re no fun any more.”
“His Majesty is partial to chess,” Felix explains. From what Cale has managed to figure out, Felix is the Emperor’s personal guard, best friend, and minder all in one, and has managed to pick up an impressive array of skills in his efforts to keep the tyrant satisfied.
No wonder they’re so rich. Who else would be able to deal with Claude de Alger Obelia’s horrible personality? Cale’s luxurious lifestyle is built on his brother’s blood, sweat, and tears. He’s heard Felix complain to him often since babies are very convenient to rant to - as far as anyone knows, he wouldn’t understand or remember anything. A pity they’re wrong on both accounts.
It’s his brother’s voice that drags his mind from that train of thought. “You know what, I have a great idea,” he says, and the words alone bring a powerful sense of dread to Cale.
“Why don’t I introduce Raziel to His Majesty’s daughter? He’s only a year older than her!”
Apparently, when Felix said he’d introduce him to the Emperor’s daughter, he not only meant in secret, but also the day directly after saying it.
“You see, His Majesty would likely cut my head off for even mentioning the Princess, so I just have to resort to this,” Felix laughs.
Hey , Cale wants to protest, isn’t this treason ? And isn’t this a country where treason can get you and your entire family beheaded ? Should you be laughing ? But his brother just cheerfully skips across expansive gardens and towards a palace in the distance.
Cale stares dispassionately at a fountain as they go past. The statues on it are half-naked women posing seductively, and not for the first time he wonders how the Emperor can be such a dirtbag as to let this marble atrocity near his daughter’s eyes. Whatever. He’s too tired to think about anything. Yawning, he rests his chin on Felix’s shoulder. His eyes droop.
“Don’t fall asleep now,” Felix jostles him gently. “You’re about to see Princess Athanasia de Alger Obelia herself. According to her nanny, she’s very cute!”
Cale doesn’t care if she’s a demon or an angel; he just hopes she’s going to be quiet enough for him to take a nap.
“Ah, don’t misunderstand me though,” Felix hastens to console him, taking his silence as being offended. “you’re still the cutest.”
Cale wants to roll his eyes so badly, and the moment they enter the palace, he decides that he’s not going to have a good time. He’s carried away from the sweet lull of the sun and cool breeze and down a stuffy corridor, his brother hell-bent on getting him to befriend a one year old.
A pretty lady with brown hair and blue eyes turns the corner, and immediately Felix brightens, walking faster and already calling out a greeting. Cale observes them as they talk, internally smirking at his brother’s shy attitude. You know not of the weapons you’re handing me , he thinks vindictively. Just wait until I can talk. I will get you back for all the humiliation .
It’s his policy to get back at whoever messes with him, with triple the amount of suffering.
Ah, the lady is looking at him. “Lillian York. Hello there, Raziel,” she says softly, and Cale can definitely see how this lady stood up to Claude and steadfastly hired herself as the Princess’s guardian. Her eyes are gentle and kind and in such a brutal world it takes steel to hold onto both of those traits.
Cale is sad on behalf of his brother and Lillian who’ve had to deal with that motherfucker of an Emperor. He supposes he can at least acknowledge her properly as a sign of respect.
He raises his arm, and his hand wraps around her finger, giving her a small - and probably rather sleepy - smile. Lillian stiffens and her face dons a rather odd expression, as if she’s been struck. Cale wonders if he’s just done something irreversible.
Turning to Felix for support, he comes face to face with the full force of a starry gaze. Oh no .
“Raziel,” he says, his voice shaking from restrained emotion, “how are you so cute?”
Lillian clears her throat, looking everywhere except Cale as if gaining her composure back. “I’ll allow him to meet the princess. Follow me, Sir Robain.”
Fuck .