Ren ate slowly, his mind preoccupied with solving his problem.
Bread and soup was different from his usual fare of pizzas, burgers and sodas but he welcomed the unfamiliar taste.
The taste grounded him, reminding him that this was no dream.
After finishing his meal, he thanked Margaret and made his way to the basin, which she had moved to the corner of his room.
He had to remind himself that this was a medieval world and he couldn't have his modern luxuries as he cleaned himself with the cold water. The original Terence was used to it. He had to keep up the act.
Once he was dressed in the plain, somewhat oversized clothes of a young noble, Ren stepped out into the hallway.
There were people to meet, things to do, and calamities to prevent.
Before he planned for where he was going, he needed to know where he was coming from.
He glanced around the two ends of the corridor, studying the worn stone walls and wooden beams. He had to admit that he was enjoying the sight.
He'd always wondered how original castles would feel in their original time and here he was, experiencing it first hand.
Spaced at even intervals along the corridor were the Ross family crest, their colors faded with age.
The castle was cold, something he had to adapt to from the warmth of the home he had known in his previous life.
With an exhale, he began to explore.
With his life as Ren Kuroda mixing with his life as Terence Voss, his memories of the little lord were fragmented. He'd have to discover as he walked.
As he wandered, he learnt, from both his memories and from what he could see, that the Ross castle was perched at the edge of Greythorne Forest, the woodland that made sure the locals never wanted for wood.
The castle itself was a mix of practicality and decay. Its walls were strong and plain, with the occasional ornament meant to convey some semblance of status.
Yet, there was no hiding the cracks in the foundation, both literal and metaphorical.
As he wandered, Ren found himself in the great hall, a fairly large space dominated by a long wooden table.
At the far end of the room sat Lord Abram Ross, his father.
The man sat with an aura of authority, his posture straight and his face hard as stone. He was reviewing documents with a stern expression, a quill in hand.
Ren hesitated, unsure whether to approach or not. Before he could decide, Abram glanced up, his cold eyes narrowing as they landed on his youngest son.
"What do you want, Terence?" His father asked like he was speaking to a guard and not a son.
"I... I just wanted to see you, Father." Ren said, already feeling a knot forming in his stomach. It was the body's instinctive reaction at the man's attention.
Abram let out a small, derisive snort. "If you have no business here, then leave. I am busy."
Ren's hands clenched at his sides. The dismissal stung, but he didn't dare mouth off. Something told him it wouldn't end well.
With a curt nod, he turned and left the hall, his heart heavy. Memories began to surface of his father's indifference and he was able to deduce that this wouldn't be a surprise for the original Terence.
He made his way to another wing of the castle, the faint sound of music guiding him to a smaller, cozier room.
Inside, Lady Maria, his mother, was seated by a harp, her fingers plucking at the strings gracefully. She looked up as he entered, her pale face lighting up with a soft smile.
"My dear Ren. You're up early." She said, her voice gentle but tinged with weariness.
One thing he was grateful for was that even in this new world, his name was still Ren. Well, it was Terence but Ren was the pet name his mother had given him and everyone else had adopted it.
"Good morning, Mother." Ren replied, stepping closer. "I... I wanted to see you."
Maria's smile widened slightly, even as she tried to hide the worries in her eyes. "It's always good to see you. Come, sit with me."
He did as she asked, sitting on a stool beside her.
For a moment, they simply existed in the quiet, the soft melody of the harp filling the space. But Ren's curiosity soon got the better of him.
"Mother, is everything alright?" He asked.
Maria's hands paused on the strings, and she sighed. "You don't need to worry about such things, my love. The estate has its... challenges, but we will manage."
He wanted to press further but decided against it. The worry in her eyes was enough to confirm what he already suspected.
The Ross family's finances were strained, and their social standing precarious. It was a house on the brink of ruin, and he had no idea if there was hope for its future.
But he did know that his place in it was uncertain at best. His father already had an heir and a spare. He was just the weak third son.
After bidding his mother farewell, Ren continued his exploration.
As he turned a corner, he heard voices coming from one of the study rooms. He stopped, recognizing them immediately from his memories.
His elder brothers, Darius and Felix, were deep in conversation.
"Father won't give us the resources we need." Darius said in frustration. "How are we supposed to make anything of ourselves if he keeps everything so tightly controlled?"
"He's waiting for us to prove ourselves." Felix said calmly. "And you know what that means. We can't rely on anyone but ourselves. Certainly not on... him."
Ren immediately knew who they meant. He backed away before he could hear more, sighing at the state of things.
It was clear that in their eyes, he was nothing more than an obstacle, a weak link in the chain that was the Ross family.
Now, he knew where he was coming from.
There was his father's indifference, his mother's quiet struggles, his brothers' ambitions, they painted a picture of a family broken by pressure and pride.
And then there was him, the overlooked third son with nothing going for him.
Ren found himself standing at the edge of the Greythorne Forest, staring at the trees, their branches intertwining to form a canopy that blocked out the light of the sun.
He stared into the woods as he compiled his findings. His family would be no help and so, he'd have to remove them from his plans.
"I can't rely on them." He muttered to himself.
"If I want to survive what's coming, I need to do it myself."