I woke up after a long sleep. I'm not sure, but my body feels refreshed. The first thing I did was get out of the crib to find out what time it was. The aroma of food answered me—a very thick meat smell. (It's probably late afternoon.)
Lilia was preparing lunch, and the front door was open. So, Mom was likely outside in the garden since no one else leaves the door open except her. (She leaves it open so she can run fast enough to reach and heal me if needed.)
Ignoring the open door, I crawled next to Lilia and said, "Lilia!" She flinched upon hearing me call her, but when she saw me just sitting on the floor gesturing for her to carry me, she sighed in relief and picked me up.
(I still don't understand why she's afraid of me—like she's waiting for me to turn into some kind of monster or still expecting my death.)
When she carried me, she tried to put me on the table so she could focus on cooking. But I stopped her by saying, "Hungry!"
In this world, they don't have baby formula. So, she usually feeds me any available fruit with high water content. (I'm 90% sure this isn't Earth because of magic, which didn't exist there according to my knowledge. The many unfamiliar city and country names they mention support this.)
Maybe I'm wrong, and I'm in a secret military facility isolated from the rest of the world for research purposes.
(Thinking about it, that's the stupidest idea I've had in a long time. If it were true, fully suited men would have come to check on me or brought proper medicine for my illness instead of leaving me to suffer like this.)
Lilia had a small apple-like fruit. She cut it into small cubes, then mashed them so I could swallow them. (Anything is better than the old-fashioned way, please.)
She fed me until the fruit was gone. The fruit is strange—it produces a lot of juice like a watermelon but tastes different from apples. Strangely, my body likes it a lot. (I just hope it has nothing to do with Paul's genes.)
(My body and brain love when Mom nurses me the most. It's probably a necessary bonding process between mother and son. At the same time, I'm inwardly screaming at how awkward the situation is. If I didn't know I wouldn't survive without this process, I would have refused to tolerate it. Well, at most, a year will pass before my milk teeth grow, and I'll be able to eat on my own. Then this humiliation will end.)
While I was thinking, Lilia had already finished preparing the food and started setting the table. (This woman is the very definition of a multitasker.)
She set two plates—one at each end of the table—with a fork to the left, a knife in front, and a spoon to the right of each plate. She repeated the process for the second plate, then placed a perfectly folded handkerchief on each.
(Is this woman some kind of robot? The way she works and reacts so perfectly makes me think I'm still on Earth.)
I wanted to explore the rest of the house, but for some reason, they don't let me go upstairs. (My curiosity will kill me—I need to discover any clues about whether this is Earth or not.)
After a few moments of thought, I realized I can't walk yet and have no way to climb the stairs alone. It's too dangerous for a baby like me. So, at the next opportunity, I'll ask nicely to be carried upstairs. (I hope it works.)
So far, I've only seen four rooms on the first floor: the living room, two bedrooms, and the dining room.
The first bedroom is almost normal but too medieval, with just one bed—probably for a single person—yet Mom and Dad use it. My crib is next to them. The room isn't spacious; it barely fits us. It probably wasn't even originally a bedroom, and they just moved the beds in hastily.
The other bedroom is Lilia's—or, judging by its size and simple furniture, a servant's room. It has an even smaller bed, a cupboard, and a small mat in the middle. (A true enemy of crawling.)
Given how big the house seems, I can speculate my family must be rich, right? And with that, I'm sure there's a library full of books somewhere.
(As soon as I can walk and reach one year old, I'll ask them to teach me to read and write and leave me in the huge house library.)
I can't stop daydreaming about reading thousands of magic books and learning about this new world. (Or, if this is Earth, discovering its secrets.)
While I was daydreaming, Lilia had already set the table and called everyone to eat. She did something I didn't understand—she prepared the table but waited until Mom and Dad sat down before serving them food and water. (Why couldn't she just serve the food before calling them?)
Another strange thing: she always serves Dad first, then Mom—like how rich, self-centered people lived in my past life. She also doesn't eat with them. She just stands beside them while they eat.
Mom was first to answer the call by entering the house from the garden, but she ascended to the second. (Her hands and knees had dirt on them what was she doing out hiding something on the dirt, who I'm kidding I know well she was just tending her garden.)
After three minutes, she came back with Dad—her hands freshly washed, while Dad held a letter in its envelope.
(Why does she always go upstairs before eating if she was just in the garden? And what's in that letter? And I can't see what's drawn on the envelope.)
(Now after focusing mom had washed her hands and knees and removed the dirt from her clothes).
After Mom sat down, she started her praying to Millis. Then afterwards they began to eat, but as usual, she didn't seem too happy. Because Lilia is standing nearby while they are eating , her posture rigid as always.
And what with the way Dad clenching that letter—like it might burst into flames—made my stomach twist. (Something's wrong. Really wrong. Every 30th of the month dad clenching the letters like this in the house mood is tense). Mom tried to break the tension by saying:
"You know you don't have to stand the whole time, Lilia," Mom said to the emotionless woman. (Is Mom trying to convince her of something?)
"I have to, Madame, so I can serve you or husband if needed," the stoic woman replied perfectly, without showing a single emotion.
(Is she some kind of robot? Even when talking to Mom, she always gives the perfect answer without any facial expressions or hints of emotion. And why does she have to use that double-meaning word? It scrambles my thoughts.)
"Lilia, you know well that both Paul and I hate the stiffness of nobility. And right now, you're bringing back bad memories for both of us. Can't you loosen up a bit? If you can, sit in that chair." The swordsman nodded at Mom's first remark and smiled bitterly when nobility was mentioned, but his smile turned genuine at the last part.
(My brain is now brainstorming what I just heard—both Mom and Dad were nobles and both hate nobility's stiffness and formality. Important information, considering I'm not even one year old yet—seven months, I think.)
"As you wish, Madame. Pardon my instructions." Am I hallucinating, or did Lilia just yield to Mom's request? (Wow! Even robots listen. That's a little scary.)
As they ate, Mom took care of me. (First time acting like a proper parent, if you ask me.)
After they finished, Mom nursed me. When I started yawning, she told Lilia to put me to bed. But when Lilia tried to carry me, Mom gestured for her not to. Instead, she carried me herself, placed me in the crib, then hugged me, and kissed my forehead before leaving.
(Even though she's immature and inexperienced at raising kids, she still treats me the best she can. Before she left, I wanted to thank her, but that would be too much for a baby like me to do right now.)
Maybe the best choice is to repeat a nice phrase I've heard. "Mom... pretty," I muttered as she was about to leave the room.
She flinched, then jumped in celebration before running out. I think I heard glass breaking, and she probably went to kiss Dad and brag to him. (I guessed this from how fast she was deer-jumping.)
(Poor Lilia. If she isn't a robot, she'll surely develop mental problems from raising this uncontrolled young couple.)
As Mom left, I chanted healing magic on myself again so I could sleep peacefully without being interrupted by my tight breathing or the... activities happening in the bed next to my crib.
"Let the satisfying nourishment regain the lost vigor, regaining the lost strength. Healing," I said in a very low voice because I was sleepy.
(Strange—unlike yesterday, I didn't fall asleep immediately. Instead, I felt an electric sensation pass through my nervous system. Well, now I at least know where magic comes from. That's a good start.)
Feeling this energy, I tried to control it more. But at the same time, I wondered why the healing magic didn't help me sleep as well as yesterday. Then, my hand lit up again. (Chantless magic! So it's possible. Good to know.)
I didn't have enough time to celebrate this discovery because my sleepiness overtook me, and I fell asleep.
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