The memory shifted again.

Ronan expected another scene from his life as Ren, as if the memories would alternate.

Instead, he found himself inside the Ashbourne estate again. This time directly in the hallways. The massive room stretched out before him, polished and pristine. Carved flame motifs that symbolized the Ashbourne family lined the walls. Expensive rugs were near every doorstep. Servants moved quietly through side passages, heads lowered not to offend anyone.

Young Ronan walked down the center, a thick book tucked under one arm.

His posture was too straight for a child. His expression was too composed. He looked like he was performing adulthood rather than living through childhood, even more so than other noble children.

Footsteps echoed behind him.

"Brother!"

Ronan turned.

Irene appeared from the other end of the hall.

She was much younger here, still unmistakably a child.

Silver hair fell loose around her shoulders, clearly not done. Her face still had the softness of childhood, a heart-shaped face, small button nose, wide curious eyes. She held a book too large for her hands and hurried after him with short, uneven steps.

Young Ronan stopped and looked back. He tried to appear mature and composed, but his expression cracked slightly. Annoyance – the kind every brother had for their younger sibling – mixed with something softer.

"What is it?" His voice was quiet but measured, like he was imitating someone older, despite only being a few months her senior.

Irene held up the book with both hands. The cover read Mana Theory: Foundations and Applications.

"Can you explain something?" She sounded embarrassed. "The tutor explained it, but I didn’t understand."

Young Ronan felt annoyance well up in his chest, as he was just about to go and study. But he pushed it down, since this was his cute younger sister.

He sighed and took the book from her. "Which part?"

Irene pointed to a page near the middle. Young Ronan skimmed it once, then began explaining in the same precise way his tutors had spoken to him earlier.

Irene stared blankly.

Young Ronan frowned. "Were you listening?"

Irene stiffened. "I was. I just... don’t understand."

He exhaled slowly, lowered the book, and crouched down so he was closer to her height.

He placed a hand on her head. From the scene, it looked like he was at least 3-4 years older than her. No one would guess he was only a few months older at best.

"Difficult things only seem difficult because people start in the middle," he said, quieter now. "If you start from the beginning, it becomes manageable."

He explained again, slower this time. Simpler words. He pointed to the diagrams and connected them to things she had already learned.

They stayed there on the floor of the hallway for almost an hour. Ronan explained everything to her with the patience of a saint.

Irene listened carefully. When she finally understood, her face brightened.

"Big brother is amazing!"

Young Ronan smiled and flicked her forehead. "I told you not to call me that. Your mother will scold you if she hears that."

Irene pouted. "I don’t care what Mother thinks, you’re older than me so you’re big brother."

Current Ronan felt the emotion underneath. Pride. Embarrassment. Warmth. This praise felt different from the praise adults gave him. Irene wasn’t praising the heir. She was praising her older brother.

"Can I study with you tomorrow too?" Irene asked hopefully.

Ronan hesitated. "You’ll slow me down."

Irene’s face fell.

She looked down at her feet, as if she knew he’d say that.

The emotions were sharp.

Sadness. Fear. Guilt.

"Bring an easier book first," he added quickly before she could leave. "If you can’t understand this one, there’s no point pretending you can. We can study together."

Irene brightened again. She nodded seriously, like he had given her an important mission. "I will."

She ran off, clutching the book tightly.

Ronan watched her leave. Once she disappeared around the corner, his careful expression softened.

For a moment, he looked like a child again.

Current Ronan watched the scene quietly.

Irene once looked up to the original Ronan. Not politically, nor because of inheritance. She admired him as her older brother. And original Ronan, despite acting annoyed, didn’t hate it.

He liked it.

Was that why Irene was so hostile? She felt Ronan had become something she didn’t recognize? Or was her hostility because, in her eyes, Ronan was changing again into something she couldn’t predict?

The memory shifted before Ronan could study the scene any longer.

The hallway dissolved. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Ronan found himself in a warm bedroom with dark curtains and the faint scent of medicine.

A woman rested on the bed beside the window, looking outside with a solemn expression.

Young Ronan ran into the room, not walking with perfect posture anymore. Every bit of his composed mannerisms dropped when he saw the woman on the bed.

He threw himself into the arms of the woman.

Ronan’s mother.

She had black hair and black eyes. Her face was tired, pale, drawn. But when she saw young Ronan, she smiled warmly. Unlike Vulcan, there was no calculation in her gaze when she saw him. No expectation. No measuring whether he was being useful and putting his time to use.

Young Ronan hugged her tightly.

She laughed softly. "Careful. You’re getting taller every day. Soon you’ll knock me over."

"I would never," young Ronan said seriously.

She just laughed, tapping his forehead.

"Did you eat?"

Young Ronan answered too quickly. "Yes. I had ham and peas. They were delicious."

Her expression didn’t change, but her voice became firmer.

"Bad liars shouldn’t lie to their mothers. Maybe once you become a good liar you can try that."

Young Ronan looked embarrassed, and he looked away, puffing his cheeks slightly.

"Shouldn’t you be telling me not to lie at all?"

"Hehe, oops."

Ronan sighed. "I was busy, Mother. I had to study and Irene wanted help as well. I will have some servants bring food to my room before I sleep later tonight."