A Beautiful Morning….Once Again

I shot up, feeling discomfort. My chest felt unusually heavy, and I was having trouble breathing. The air seemed unnaturally thick as it entered my lungs. Then, just as abruptly, it all went away. A sweet scent filled my nostrils—the familiar smell of flowers and shampoo. Warm sunlight streamed through the window, hitting my face.

"Leor, wake up! It's already 7 in the morning. You'll be late for your classes!"

The familiar feminine voice brought me back to reality—the voice of my sister. She was tidying my wooden study table, which was cluttered with university notes and history books. I had stayed up late, studying for my exams next week.

"Ahh, you're finally awake. I know you like to study, but staying up late is bad for your health. You should take better care of yourself," said Clara in a motherly tone.

I finally looked at her. She was nearly 22 but still looked like a 17 or 18-year-old girl. Her pale white face and well-proportioned figure made her look like a noble from a royal family—if not for her worn-out white linen dress. Her brown hair was tied in a bun, and her face was covered in sweat, probably from cooking breakfast.

"I know, I know. Sorry for the mess. You don't need to worry about it—I'll clean it up after freshening up. And today, I only have one class at 11 a.m., so I'll be fine," I said in a sleepy tone.

She stared at me sternly with her sharp green eyes for a moment before finally nodding. "Alright, but do it quickly. Breakfast is almost ready, and I don't want the food to get cold."

I nodded, quickly got up, and started cleaning the mess on the table. I neatly arranged my notes and placed my human nature notes separately, as I would need them for today's class. Satisfied with my work, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

We lived in a small house, but it was still far better than the average living conditions in this area. There were three rooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen, and a living room where we dined. While it might be cramped for a large family, it was perfect for us—just me, my sister Clara, and our brother James.

James, being the eldest, slept in the single room downstairs, while Clara and I were room neighbors upstairs. The bathroom was also upstairs, so I liked it here, though summers made it unbearably hot.

After slipping into a white cotton shirt and black trousers, I paired them with black leather shoes I had bought after saving for months. I also picked up my silver pocket watch from the dressing table. It was an expensive, one-of-a-kind piece, made of high-quality platinum with a sturdy hunter case adorned with small green gemstones along the border. My mother had first given it to James when she passed away, but he didn't want it and handed it down to me. She had told us it was a family heirloom passed down through generations of the Milford family and asked us to take care of it.

I adjusted the collar of my shirt, smoothing it down as the mirror reflected my slightly muscular build. Ember-green eyes stared back at me. I ran a hand through my brownish-black hair, watching as the light caught the subtle hues, the strands falling into place with practiced ease. Despite everything, I still managed to give off a scholarly look.

"I feel like I've done this before… But maybe I haven't."

Ignoring the faint sense of déjà vu, I walked downstairs, catching the strong smell of coffee.

"Finally, you're here. Do you realize you take more time dressing up than the ladies?" James muttered, sipping his coffee without looking up from the newspaper.

"What would you know about how long women take to dress? Have you even talked to a lady besides Clara?" I shot back, a sly smirk creeping onto my face.

James opened his mouth to retort but quickly closed it, unable to refute. He mumbled something under his breath and refocused on the newspaper.

"Anyway, did you read the newspaper yet?" James asked, trying to change the topic.

"Mmh, not yet. Is something wrong?"

"Well, yeah. Queen Victoria was assassinated by her eldest daughter," James answered in a serious tone.

"What the hell? That's insane! It must be chaos outside—especially now, with the Thornfield Empire already at war," Clara flawlessly chimed in.

"Yes, you're right. There have been riots, and talk of revolution is spreading. The royal family must be under immense pressure to appoint a new ruler and restore order. That's why her husband will probably take the crown," James explained, taking a huge bite of bread.

"Well, whatever. It doesn't really matter who's in charge—it's all the same for us," I said, breaking the flow of the conversation.

"No, no. Why do you say that? You want to join the military—you should be the most interested in this! Personally, I believe King Edward, her husband, was behind Victoria's assassination. He's the only one who benefits from it. There's no way an idiot like him could become king without framing Princess Flora. Why else would a daughter kill her own mother?"

"Here you go with the conspiracies again," I replied, annoyed by James's constant nagging about politics.

"And joining the military has nothing to do with that. I'm not joining to serve and die for the Empire, you know—it's just for the money. The military is the only job accessible to us that pays well."

"Oh my God, will you two ever shut up about it? You'll both get caught for rebellious thoughts someday and take me down with you!" Clara snapped as she sat down at the dining table, immediately silencing us.

"Alright, alright… Geez. And one more thing—I have good news to share with you, Clara." James successfully piqued our interest. He swiftly pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket of his long coat and handed it over to us.

Clara grabbed it instantly, her eyes gleaming with childlike excitement. I dragged my chair closer to her, pushing my face beside hers as we scanned the text together.