The mansion was a labyrinth of polished marble floors and hallways lined with portraits of stern-faced ancestors who all seemed to be judging William for crimes he hadn't committed yet, and he followed the maid through what felt like half a mile of corridors while trying to memorize the layout in case he needed to navigate this place on his own later.
Every servant they passed bowed respectfully though their eyes held something else entirely, a mixture of disdain and pity that told him the original William Cross had not been well-liked among the staff, which tracked perfectly with the character profile of an arrogant lazy noble's son who probably treated them like furniture.
"Here we are, Young Master," the maid said while opening massive double doors that led into a dining hall large enough to host a wedding reception, with a table that could seat at least thirty people though only two places were set at one end.
Sitting in one of those places was a woman who could only be Duchess Arabella Cross, and William felt his breath catch because she was beautiful in that timeless aristocratic way with silver-blonde hair styled in an elaborate updo, sharp green eyes that missed nothing, and an air of authority that made his corporate executives look like children playing dress-up.
"You're late," she said without looking up from the documents she was reading, her voice cultured and cold in a way that suggested disappointment was her default setting when it came to him, "I said within the hour, not at the end of the hour."
William stood there for a moment trying to figure out the appropriate response because he had no idea what kind of relationship the original William had with his mother, whether they were close or distant, affectionate or antagonistic, and one wrong word could expose him as an imposter.
"My apologies, Mother," he said while moving toward the empty seat because that seemed like the safest option, keeping his tone neutral and his words minimal until he could gauge her reactions.
She glanced at him briefly with those sharp green eyes that seemed to be cataloging every detail of his appearance and demeanor, and William felt like a specimen under a microscope being examined for defects.
"You look terrible, did you sleep at all last night or were you up reading those trashy novels you insist on collecting despite my repeated suggestions that you focus on more practical studies," she said while a servant appeared to pour tea into delicate china cups that probably cost more than his old monthly salary.
William picked up his cup with hands that were steadier than he felt because apparently the original William Cross had also been a novel reader which was either ironic or cosmically hilarious depending on how you looked at it.
"I had trouble sleeping," he admitted since that was technically true even if the reason was waking up in a completely different body in a completely different world, "too much on my mind about the academy."
Duchess Arabella set down her documents and actually looked at him properly for the first time, and something flickered across her face that might have been surprise or concern before her aristocratic mask slammed back into place.
"That's the first time you've ever expressed anything resembling anxiety about Celestial Heights," she said slowly while studying him with renewed interest, "usually you just complain about having to attend or boast about how easy it will be despite your instructors' reports suggesting otherwise."
William realized he'd already made a mistake by showing genuine concern instead of the arrogant bravado the original William would have displayed, and he needed to recover quickly before she started asking questions he couldn't answer.
"I suppose the reality of it is finally setting in now that departure is only three days away," he said while taking a sip of tea that was far better than anything he'd ever had in London, "and I've been thinking about how I've approached my training up until now."
The Duchess raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in an expression that suggested she'd believe pigs could fly before she believed her lazy son was having thoughts about self-improvement.
"Is that so," she said in a tone that was equal parts skeptical and intrigued, "and what conclusions have you reached from this sudden burst of introspection."
William set down his teacup and met her eyes directly because if he was going to fake being William Cross, he might as well commit to a version that wouldn't get him killed in four months when the protagonist decided to use his face as a punching bag.
"That I've been wasting the opportunities given to me by relying on the family name instead of developing actual skills, and that continuing down that path at an academy full of genuinely talented people will only end in humiliation or worse," he said with complete honesty since it was technically true even if he was talking about someone else's wasted opportunities.
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush diamonds, and William watched various emotions flicker across the Duchess's face too quickly for him to identify before she picked up a small bell and rang it once.
Immediately a servant appeared from a side door, and she gestured dismissively while keeping her eyes locked on William.
"Leave us, all of you, I wish to speak with my son privately," she commanded in a voice that brooked no argument, and within seconds the dining hall was empty except for the two of them.
William's mind raced through possibilities of what was about to happen because clearly his out-of-character behavior had triggered something, and he prepared himself for accusations or interrogations or whatever came next.
"Who are you," Duchess Arabella said flatly while standing up from her chair with a grace that seemed almost predatory, "and what have you done with my idiot son."
William felt his blood run cold because apparently noble mothers in fantasy worlds were far more perceptive than he'd given them credit for, and lying to someone who probably had ways of detecting lies seemed like a terrible idea.
"What do you mean mother, I am your son" he said trying to keep his face as calm as possible while also standing because sitting while she loomed over him felt like a tactical disadvantage, "just one who had a rather jarring wake-up call recently."
She moved around the table toward him with measured steps, and William forced himself not to back away even though every instinct screamed that he was in danger from a woman who probably had magic powers he couldn't even comprehend.
"My son has never in his nineteen years of life admitted to wasting opportunities or shown genuine concern about his own inadequacy," she said while circling him like a predator examining prey, "he's never looked me in the eyes when speaking, never used words like 'humiliation or worse' because he's never been self-aware enough to realize that worse exists, and he certainly has never called me 'Mother' without following it with a demand for money or a complaint about his allowance."
William realized he'd fundamentally misunderstood the situation he'd woken up into because the Duchess wasn't just skeptical, she was actively suspicious that something had happened to her actual son, and he needed to give her an explanation that satisfied her without revealing the truth.
"People can change when faced with their own mortality," he said quietly while standing his ground as she completed her circle and faced him directly, "I had an accident during training two days ago, nothing serious according to the healers, but for a moment I thought I was going to die and it gave me perspective on how I've been living my life."
It was close enough to the truth that it felt natural saying it, and he watched her face carefully for any sign that she was buying the explanation or preparing to call guards to arrest whoever had replaced her son.
"An accident," she repeated slowly while reaching out to touch his face with surprisingly gentle fingers, turning his head to examine him from different angles, "the healers reported nothing of the sort, and I've had reports on your activities every single day since you were born because that's what mothers do when they have children who make poor decisions."
William met her eyes and saw something there that surprised him, not anger or suspicion but genuine concern mixed with hope, and he realized that despite the original William Cross being a disappointment, his mother still cared about him in whatever way aristocratic nobles showed affection.
"Perhaps it wasn't physical," he admitted since lying seemed pointless when she clearly had intelligence networks that tracked his every movement, "perhaps I just woke up one morning and realized that the person I've been is someone I don't want to be anymore, and I'd rather change now than wait until the academy forces me to change through repeated failures."
Duchess Arabella studied him for what felt like an eternity before withdrawing her hand and returning to her seat, gesturing for him to sit as well with an expression that suggested this conversation was far from over.
"Assuming you're sincere and not simply trying a new manipulation tactic to extract more funding from the family coffers," she said while servants reappeared from nowhere to refresh their tea and lay out breakfast dishes that smelled amazing, "what exactly do you intend to do with these three days before departure."
William sat down and considered his options because he genuinely did need those three days to prepare, and having his mother's support rather than her suspicion would make everything significantly easier.
"Learn everything I can about the basics I've been neglecting, understand the power system well enough to not embarrass myself immediately, and figure out what resources I have access to that might give me an edge," he said while loading his plate with food his body was apparently craving, "I know I'm bottom tier compared to the other students, but that just means I need to be smarter about how I approach things."
The Duchess watched him eat with an expression that suggested she was recalculating everything she thought she knew about her youngest son, and William could practically see the gears turning behind those sharp green eyes.
"Your father wanted to disown you before the academy acceptance came through," she said conversationally while cutting into her own breakfast with precise movements, "he said you were a waste of the Cross family resources and that your older brothers were proof that the problem was nurture not nature, but I convinced him to give you one final chance at Celestial Heights."
William paused mid-bite because that was information about his family dynamics he definitely needed to know, and it painted a picture of just how precarious his position actually was.
"I wasn't aware it had gotten that serious," he said honestly since the original William Cross probably hadn't been either given his oblivious arrogance, "thank you for advocating for me even when I didn't deserve it."
Something softened in her expression, just slightly, and she set down her silverware to give him her full attention.
"If you're truly serious about this decision and not just trying to manipulate me with uncharacteristic humility," she said carefully while pulling a small crystal from somewhere in her dress, "then I can provide resources that will help, but I need to know this isn't temporary insanity or a scheme that will blow up in our faces when you revert to old habits at the first sign of difficulty."
William looked at the crystal she was holding and had no idea what it was supposed to do, so he focused on her face instead and spoke with complete honesty about his intentions even if he couldn't reveal the full context.
"I can't promise I'll suddenly become a prodigy or live up to whatever standards my siblings have set," he said while pushing down the panic that came with improvising his way through a life he knew nothing about, "but I can promise that I'm done being the family embarrassment who coasts on the Cross name while accomplishing nothing, and if that means working harder than I ever have before to catch up to people who've been training properly their entire lives, then that's what I'll do."
Duchess Arabella smiled for the first time since he'd entered the dining hall, and it transformed her face from coldly beautiful to genuinely warm in a way that made William understand why a Duke had married her.
"Then we have three days to turn you from an E-tier disgrace into someone who might actually survive their first month at the most dangerous academy in the realm," she said while the crystal in her hand began glowing with soft blue light, "and I'm going to work you harder than any instructor you've ever had because if my son is finally ready to take his life seriously, I'm not going to waste this opportunity by being gentle."
William felt something shift in the air around him as the crystal's glow intensified, and he realized that whatever the Duchess was about to do was probably going to involve magic he didn't understand and training he wasn't prepared for.
"What is that crystal," he asked because if he was about to undergo some kind of mystical boot camp, he'd like to know what he was getting into.
"This is an Essence Reader, it measures your current cultivation level and elemental affinities with precision that normal testing can't achieve," she explained while standing and moving toward him with the glowing crystal, "your official academy assessment said you had no affinity and minimal essence capacity, but those tests are notoriously unreliable for late bloomers, and I want to see your actual potential before we begin training."
She pressed the crystal against his chest and William felt a strange sensation like electricity running through his veins, and the blue glow suddenly exploded into a cascade of colors that definitely wasn't supposed to happen based on her shocked expression.
"That's impossible," the Duchess whispered while staring at the crystal that was now cycling through red, blue, green, silver, gold, and colors William didn't have names for, "this reading suggests you have affinity for every element and essence capacity that ranks in the S-tier, but that can't be right because we've tested you dozens of times since childhood."
[Catastrophic Allure has altered your base parameters]
[New Status Unlocked]
[Due to curse compensation, your potential has been adjusted to match the challenges you will face]
[Current Rank: S-Tier Cultivator (Dormant - Requires Activation)]
[Elemental Affinity: Omni-Elemental (Unprecedented)]
[Warning: Sudden power increase will attract unwanted attention]
[Recommendation: Conceal true abilities until you have means to protect yourself]
William stared at the system notification that only he could see and realized that the curse hadn't just made women attracted to him, it had fundamentally altered his existence in this world to give him the potential to actually survive what was coming.
"Mother," he said carefully while watching her examine the crystal with growing excitement and confusion, "perhaps we should keep this reading between us until I actually prove I can use these abilities, announcing that I suddenly jumped from E-tier to S-tier overnight would raise questions we probably don't want to answer."
Duchess Arabella looked at him with eyes that were now calculating and sharp in ways that reminded him of corporate executives who'd just discovered a valuable asset.
"You're absolutely right," she said while making the crystal disappear back into her dress with practiced ease, "if word got out that a Cross family member suddenly manifested S-tier potential, every faction in the realm would be trying to recruit you, marry you off, or eliminate you as a threat, and you're not ready for that kind of attention."
She smiled at him with genuine pride mixed with something that might have been maternal affection, and William felt a complicated mix of emotions because this wasn't his mother but she was treating him like her son who'd finally lived up to his potential.
"We have three days to awaken your abilities and teach you enough control that you don't accidentally kill yourself or others when your power activates," she said while already moving toward the door with purpose, "cancel all my appointments for the next seventy-two hours and summon the family's master cultivator to the private training grounds immediately, my son is about to get the education he should have received years ago."
William followed her out of the dining hall with his mind racing because apparently his new life was going to involve crash-course magical training from a mother who'd just discovered her disappointment of a son was actually a hidden genius, and he had no idea if that made his situation better or infinitely more complicated.
At least it would keep him busy enough to avoid thinking about the curse that was still ticking away in the background like a time bomb waiting to explode the moment he got anywhere near the academy's heroines and villainesses.
Three days until his new life really began, and apparently he'd be spending them learning how to not accidentally blow himself up with magic he didn't know he had.
This was either going to be the best decision he'd ever made or the fastest way to get himself killed, and given his track record so far, it was probably going to be both.