There were many advantages to reincarnating as the protagonist of a novel, especially one with thousands of chapters like SSS Talent: The Cursed Path of the Chosen Hero.
Thanks to the system, I had already learned about the talent side of things. But whenever I look in the mirror, another advantage of being the main character stood plainly before me.
Attractiveness.
Aurelius was undeniably handsome. His jet black hair and crimson eyes were his most striking features. His facial structure was sharp and distinctly masculine. His body was fit, though by my standards a little too lean. He was taller than average as well, probably around 185 centimeters, roughly six feet.
I had not focused much on this before, but no one in the world ever truly says no to good looks. In my previous life, I could not be described as particularly handsome. Still, thanks to a few of my better qualities, I never had serious problems. That said, I was never the popular kid at school either.
The reason I dwell so much on appearances is simple. I believe that even the kindest person in the world looks at outward appearance first. Yes, looks may not be everything, but they are certainly a great deal.
And the occasional glances sent my way by Baroness Catherinne, with whom I was currently sharing tea, proved that I was not wrong.
Talking with Catherinne for half an hour allowed me to learn quite a bit about her. The first thing that stood out was the fact that such a beautiful woman had never married, or even been engaged. I did not learn this directly from her, but rather from the servants who seemed all too eager to talk after a few small compliments and simple gifts.
At first, I suspected that she might dislike men, but the brief looks she gave me did little to support that theory. I may not have been especially talented in my previous life, but if there was one thing I trusted myself in, it was my ability to analyze people. Because of that, I chose to trust my instincts and believe that Catherinne had no inherent issue with men.
Another theory was that she had suffered some kind of childhood trauma or a devastating heartbreak. That seemed the most plausible explanation, though I could not be certain. Perhaps she simply did not want a relationship, or maybe she had an illness.
For now, my goal was to understand why this beautiful, mature woman had never been in a relationship. If I could uncover that reason, I would already be well on the path to her heart.
When Catherinne placed her teacup back onto its saucer, the faint sound of porcelain signaled a natural pause in our conversation. She lifted her gaze from the tea to me, and this time made no effort to hide it. There was neither challenge nor invitation in her eyes. Instead, there was the cautious curiosity of a noble accustomed to measuring the person before her.
"It has been a long time since someone spoke with me this comfortably," she said. Her voice was soft, but restrained. "Usually, people either want something from me or try to hear what they wish me to say."
That sentence felt like a small crack into the source of her solitude. I inclined my head slightly before replying.
"For now, all I want is good tea and an honest conversation."
She did not deny that my words pleased her. The faint smile at the corner of her lips made that clear enough.
The smile did not last long. Almost as soon as she seemed to notice it, she withdrew it. She wrapped both hands around her cup, her thumb lingering on the edge of the porcelain longer than necessary. That brief hesitation said more than her words.
Her gaze drifted away for a moment. In the garden, the wind stirred the leaves. In that instant, I sensed a strange weight in her eyes. It was neither melancholy nor regret. Rather, it was the silence of a decision long since made.
When her eyes returned to me, the weight had not disappeared. It was simply better concealed. A mask descended upon her face, the kind nobles. Not entirely cold, not entirely warm. Balanced, controlled, and distant.
"So what are your plans? You intend to go to the Academy, don't you?" she said, breaking the odd silence.
"Yes, I am considering it," I replied, "but it is not my sole priority right now."
Catherinne raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. For a baroness, that counted as open surprise. In this world, the Academy was not merely an educational institution. It was a crossroads of connections, patronage, and promised futures. For most young people, attending it was not a goal, but a dream.
"Interesting," she said. "People your age usually see the Academy as a kind of salvation."
"Some paths, when walked in haste, lead to the wrong destinations."
She held my gaze a little longer after that. This time, she was not weighing me. She was comparing me. Placing my words beside those she had heard before and measuring the difference.
"That kind of caution," she said at last, "comes from either great confidence or great fear."
"Which do you think it is?" I asked.
"I have not decided yet," she answered honestly. "But if it were fear, you would not carry it so calmly."
The wind from the garden grew stronger, scattering leaves across the table. One of the servants approached quietly, as if to tidy up, but Catherinne lifted her hand slightly to stop them. Everyone understood that the conversation was not yet over.
"If you go to the Academy, many people will offer to sponsor you. Some may be well intentioned. Most will not. There is no such thing as free support, especially if you are talented and draw attention."
She did not avert her eyes as she spoke. It was clear she was speaking from experience.
I smiled faintly.
"I am aware of that. That is why I am not in a hurry. Besides, you are quite sufficient for me at the moment, my lady. I will repay this someday."
The atmosphere at the table changed perceptibly. For a brief moment, Catherinne's expression froze. This was not the surprise of a noble. It was the instinctive pause of someone confronted with an unexpected move.
She slowly placed her cup on the table. The sound of porcelain was sharper this time. Decisive.
"Such words are usually spoken for two reasons," she said calmly. "Either to please the other party, or to deliberately create a debt."
"I have no intention of creating a debt."
That answer gave her pause. Her brows knit slightly. Her fingers released the handle of the cup and came together on the table.
"You are swimming in dangerous waters, Aurelius."
Her warning hung in the air. It was not a threat, but it was clearly a boundary. I knew such boundaries were not meant to stop me, but to test how I would proceed.
"Dangerous waters are sometimes the clearest," I replied evenly.
The smile that appeared on her lips this time was more controlled. She liked it, but not enough to admit it. Without taking her eyes off me, she picked up her cup again and pretended to watch the steam rising from the tea.
"You are very young, Aurelius. I am certain you will have far better options," she said.
There was a warning in her voice, but it also sounded as though she were speaking to herself, as if defending a decision made long ago.
"Probably," I said honestly. "But good options and the right option are not always the same."
This time, she was the one who looked away. She took a small sip of tea, then exhaled slowly as she lowered the cup. In that moment, I sensed that she wanted to consciously change the direction of the conversation, yet chose not to.
"I am sorry, Aurelius, but you will have to abandon this desire," she said.
That sentence did not close a door. It was more like pulling my hand away from the handle while knowing exactly what lay beyond it. My curiosity outweighed my pride. Without breaking eye contact, I spoke.
"Why?" I asked.
Catherinne parted her lips, but did not speak immediately. She released the cup's handle and folded her hands on the table. It was a sign that this would not be a thoughtless answer. For a brief instant, hesitation flickered in her eyes. Then the familiar noble composure returned.
"I have my reasons," she said.
The answer was not clear, but it was not insincere either. She could have said more, but chose not to. As she was about to stand, I reached out. When my hand unexpectedly closed around her cold fingers, she flinched.
"Can't you tell me what those reasons are?"
The cold was more pronounced than I had expected. It was not the ordinary coolness of skin, but a sensation devoid of warmth, almost lifeless. Catherinne's reaction was not merely surprise. Her pupils widened for a brief moment, her breathing faltered. In that short crack, the noble composure vanished, replaced by something close to a primal reflex.
She shoved my hand away sharply and pulled back.
The movement was as abrupt as it was rude. She did not shout. She did not raise her voice. But her gaze shattered all the fragile intimacy we had built in a single motion.
"What you just did... Was crossing a line."
She stood up. Adjusted the edge of her cloak. Her shoulders were too tense. She was deliberately slowing her breathing to keep it from being noticed. Whether it was conscious or habit, I could not tell. But she was clearly in a hurry.
"This conversation ends here, Aurelius."
She turned away. Her steps were fast. Faster than normal.
For a moment, I thought she might look back.
She did not.
All that remained were half-finished cups of tea on the table and words left unspoken, hanging in the air.
I looked at my hand. My fingers still remembered her touch.
Cold.
And that coldness gave me a clue as to why she had reacted the way she did.
"I might have finally figured out why this beautiful woman had never married."