The first morning of Bereshith's preparations began quietly.
The winter had finally passed, and the palace was slowly returning to its usual rhythm. The cold air remained, but the sunlight had begun to grow warmer, shining through the tall windows and illuminating the polished corridors of the royal palace.
For Bereshith, however, the changing season meant something else.
It meant preparation.
Five months remained before he would officially enter the Sol Academy.
Five months to prepare himself.
Five months to learn everything he had missed.
And according to Lucas, the first thing Bereshith needed to learn had absolutely nothing to do with fighting.
It had to do with manners.
Bereshith stood inside one of the palace's private dining rooms, staring at the table in front of him.
His expression was one of complete confusion.
There were forks.
Several forks.
There were spoons of different sizes.
Knives.
Small knives.
Large knives.
A plate in the center.
Another smaller plate.
A glass.
Another glass.
A folded napkin.
And several other utensils that Bereshith couldn't even identify.
He slowly looked toward Maria.
"...Why are there so many?"
Maria smiled.
"Because this is your first lesson."
Bereshith stared at the table again.
"My first lesson?"
"Yes."
Eva stood beside Maria with her arms folded, watching him carefully.
"You are going to the Sol Academy as the son of a noble household. You will meet nobles, scholars, royalty, merchants, military officers, and people from influential families."
Bereshith nodded slowly.
"I understand that, but doesn't the academy prohibited discrimination and everything that against morals?"
Maria smiled.
"They do, but do you have retrain in yourself that you can promise you won't involved on something uncultured person?"
Bereshith looked at the table again.
"...Not really."
Eva laughed softly.
"That is precisely why we're here."
Bereshith sighed.
"I thought my first lesson would be something like history or mathematics."
Maria shook her head.
"Those lessons will come later."
She pointed toward the table.
"First, you need to learn how to behave when sitting at a table."
Bereshith looked at the utensils again.
"Can't I just use whichever one is closest?"
Both women stared at him.
Bereshith immediately realized that his answer had been wrong.
"...No?"
Eva smiled.
"No."
Bereshith sighed.
"This is going to be difficult."
Maria walked toward the table.
"Not if you learn properly."
She picked up one of the forks.
"When you attend a formal dinner, the utensils are generally arranged according to the order in which they will be used."
She placed the fork back down.
"You begin from the outside and work your way inward."
Bereshith nodded.
"Outside to inside."
"Correct."
"What if I accidentally use the wrong one?"
Maria smiled.
"Then you quietly correct yourself and continue."
Bereshith looked relieved.
"So I won't be executed?"
Eva covered her mouth as she laughed.
"No, Bereshith. You won't be executed for using the wrong fork."
"That's good."
"But," Eva added, "you may embarrass yourself."
Bereshith immediately became serious.
"That sounds worse."
Maria laughed.
"Then pay attention."
The lesson continued.
For the next hour, Bereshith practiced identifying the utensils.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He repeatedly reached for the wrong fork.
Maria patiently corrected him.
Eva corrected his posture.
"Straighten your back."
Bereshith straightened.
"Relax your shoulders."
He relaxed them.
"Don't lean against the chair."
He immediately moved forward.
"Keep both feet properly positioned."
Bereshith looked down.
"Like this?"
"Yes."
He maintained the position.
Five seconds passed.
Then ten.
Then thirty.
His body began to ache.
"Why does sitting properly hurt more than fighting?"
Eva smiled.
"Because you were never taught how to sit properly."
Bereshith sighed.
"This is harder than combat training."
Maria shook her head.
"Combat training teaches you how to survive an attack. Etiquette teaches you how to survive a in society."
Bereshith paused.
"That actually sounds terrifying."
Eva laughed.
"It can be."
The lesson didn't stop at the dining table.
After lunch, Maria and Eva moved to the corridor.
Bereshith stood at one end.
Maria stood at the other.
"Now," Maria said, "show us how you would enter a formal room."
Bereshith walked toward the door.
He opened it.
Walked inside.
Then immediately turned around.
"Like that?"
Eva shook her head.
"No."
Bereshith blinked.
"What did I do wrong?"
"You opened the door too quickly."
Maria nodded.
"You also entered too casually."
Bereshith looked confused.
"How am I supposed to enter?"
Maria demonstrated.
She approached the door calmly.
She opened it without making unnecessary noise.
She stepped inside with controlled movements.
Her posture remained straight.
Her pace was neither hurried nor slow.
She stopped briefly, acknowledged the room, and continued.
Bereshith watched carefully.
"That's it?"
"That's it." Said by Maria casually.
"That looks simple." replied by Bereshith bewilderedly.
"It is simple."
Maria smiled.
"Once you have practiced it hundreds of times."
Bereshith's expression fell.
"Hundreds?"
Eva nodded.
"You're going to practice until it embedded into your body and mind."
Bereshith sighed.
"Yes, ma'am."
And so he practiced.
He entered the room.
Exited.
Entered again.
Exited again.
Sometimes Eva stopped him.
"Too fast."
Again.
"Too loud."
Again.
"You looked nervous."
Again.
"Your shoulders were tense."
Again.
"Your posture."
Again.
By the end of the afternoon, Bereshith had entered and exited the room so many times that he had completely lost count.
But slowly, something changed.
His movements became quieter.
His posture became more natural.
His steps became controlled.
He stopped thinking about every individual movement.
His body simply began to remember.
Maria noticed.
She smiled.
"Better."
Bereshith smiled.
"Really?"
"Yes."
He looked pleased.
Then Eva spoke.
"Now bow."
Bereshith froze.
"...Again?"
"Yes."
He stood straight.
Maria demonstrated the proper movement.
The bow wasn't exaggerated.
It wasn't submissive.
It was respectful.
Controlled.
Measured.
Bereshith attempted it.
Eva shook her head.
"Too deep."
He adjusted.
"Too shallow."
He adjusted again.
"Too stiff."
He loosened himself.
"Now you're leaning."
Bereshith stared at her.
"How am I supposed to get this right?"
Eva smiled.
"Practice."
Bereshith sighed.
"Of course."
The following weeks became a continuous cycle.
Every morning, Bereshith practiced his posture.
Every afternoon, he practiced etiquette.
Every evening, Maria and Eva tested him.
But etiquette wasn't the only thing they taught him.
They taught him how to behave around other people.
One afternoon, Maria sat across from Bereshith.
"Tell me what you think about the weather."
Bereshith looked toward the window.
"It's warm."
Maria nodded.
"Anything else?"
"The sky is clear."
"Good."
She waited.
Bereshith remained silent.
Maria smiled.
"You don't need to fill every silence."
Bereshith nodded.
"That makes sense."
Eva sat nearby.
"Now tell me what you think about the new decorations in the eastern hall."
Bereshith thought for a moment.
"They're beautiful."
"Why?"
Bereshith looked at the decorations.
"The colors aren't too bright. They match the room."
Eva nodded.
"Good."
Maria smiled.
"You see? When you speak, say something meaningful."
Bereshith understood.
"I shall speak only in neutral answer without arrogance nor shred of ignorance."
"Exactly."
They also taught him how to listen.
When someone spoke to him, he was expected to pay attention.
Not interrupt.
Not look around.
Not fidget.
Not immediately redirect the conversation toward himself.
He had to listen.
Then respond.
At first, Bereshith struggled.
His natural personality was energetic and curious.
Sometimes he interrupted.
Sometimes he became too excited.
Sometimes he laughed too loudly.
Whenever he did, Maria corrected him.
"Bereshith."
He immediately stopped.
"Yes?"
"Control yourself."
He nodded.
"Sorry."
Eva smiled.
"There's nothing wrong with laughing. But there is a time and place for everything."
Bereshith nodded.
"I understand."
They also taught him something he found particularly difficult.
Gossip.
One afternoon, Maria deliberately began speaking about a fictional noble family.
"Have you heard what happened to House Valen?"
Bereshith looked at her.
"No."
"They apparently lost a great deal of money."
Bereshith frowned.
"That's unfortunate."
Maria continued.
"Some people say their lord was irresponsible."
Bereshith remained silent.
Eva watched him.
"Do you agree?"
Bereshith shook his head.
"I don't know him."
Eva smiled.
"Good."
Bereshith understood the lesson and nodded.
"Don't judge someone based on rumors." Said by Eva as if she's a proud Mother.
"Exactly."
Maria nodded and continue.
"You will hear gossip at the academy. Some of it will be true. Some of it will be exaggerated. Some of it will be completely fabricated."
She leaned slightly forward.
"A wise person doesn't immediately repeat what they hear."
Bereshith nodded.
"I'll remember that."
The lessons became increasingly difficult.
They taught him emotional control.
If someone insulted him, he was expected not to immediately react.
If someone disagreed with him, he was expected to listen.
If someone embarrassed him publicly, he was expected to remain composed.
And if someone older than him spoke, he was expected to show respect.
One afternoon, Eva intentionally provoked him.
"Your posture is terrible."
Bereshith frowned.
"It's not."
Eva raised an eyebrow.
"It is."
"No, it isn't."
"Your shoulders are uneven."
Bereshith immediately corrected them.
Eva smiled.
"You reacted immediately."
Bereshith realized what she had done.
"You were testing me."
"Yes."
Bereshith sighed.
"You're both terrifying teachers."
Maria laughed.
"You'll thank us later."
By the end of the first month, Bereshith had changed.
Not dramatically.
Not completely.
But enough to be noticed.
His posture was straighter.
His movements were calmer.
He entered rooms with quiet confidence.
He knew how to bow.
He understood formal dining.
He knew which utensil to use.
He knew when to speak.
More importantly, he had learned when not to speak.
He had learned that confidence didn't mean being loud.
Respect didn't mean being afraid.
And strength didn't always mean defeating someone.
Sometimes strength meant controlling yourself.
On the final day of the first month's lessons, Maria and Eva stood before Bereshith in the same dining room where his training had begun.
The table was prepared perfectly.
Every utensil was in its proper place.
Bereshith approached.
He sat down.
His back remained straight.
His shoulders relaxed.
He looked at the table.
Then he picked up the correct utensil without hesitation.
Maria smiled.
Eva nodded.
Bereshith noticed their expressions.
"Did I finally do it correctly?"
Maria smiled warmly.
"You did."
Bereshith leaned back slightly.
Then he immediately corrected his posture.
Eva laughed.
"You're learning."
Bereshith smiled.
"I suppose I am."
Maria walked toward him.
"This is only the first month."
Bereshith's smile disappeared.
"Only the first?"
Eva nodded.
"There are four more months."
Bereshith stared at both of them.
"...What are you going to teach me next?"
Maria smiled mysteriously.
"You'll find out tomorrow."
Bereshith sighed.
"I'm beginning to regret asking."
Eva laughed.
"You'll survive."
Bereshith smiled.
He looked toward the window.
The road toward the Sol Academy was getting closer.
For years, he had dreamed of becoming strong.
Then he had learned that strength could disappear.
He had spent months rebuilding his body.
Now he was learning to rebuild something else.
His discipline.
His manners.
His confidence.
His ability to stand among people without allowing his emotions to control him.
Five months remained.
And Bereshith knew that the road ahead would not be easy.
But this time, he wasn't afraid of starting from the beginning.
He had already done it once.
He could do it again.
Days have passed .
The second month began almost immediately after Bereshith had finished his first round of lessons.
By then, he had already become accustomed to waking early, eating breakfast, exercising, studying, and spending several hours with Maria and Eva.
He had thought the first month would be the hardest.
He had been wrong.
One morning, Bereshith entered the study room and immediately stopped.
A large stack of books was waiting for him on the table.
He stared at them.
Then he slowly turned his head toward Maria.
"...More?"
Maria smiled calmly.
"More."
Bereshith sighed and walked toward the table.
"I thought I survived the first month."
"You did."
"Then why does it feel like I'm being punished?"
Eva, who was sitting beside the window, covered her mouth as she laughed.
"You're not being punished, Bereshith. You're being educated."
Bereshith looked at the mountain of books.
"Those look like punishment."
Maria shook her head.
"Sit down."
Bereshith reluctantly obeyed.
The first thing Maria noticed was that his posture had already improved considerably.
His back was straight.
His shoulders were relaxed.
His hands rested properly on the table.
Even his habit of looking around the room whenever someone spoke had almost disappeared.
Maria smiled with satisfaction.
"You have improved."
Bereshith looked at her suspiciously.
"That's the first nice thing you've said to me this morning."
"Don't become too comfortable."
His expression immediately fell.
Eva laughed again.
Maria opened the first book.
"This month, we're going to work on something different."
Bereshith leaned forward.
"What?"
"Your speech."
"My speech?"
"Yes."
Maria closed the book and looked directly into his eyes.
"You've learned how to behave properly in formal situations. Now you need to learn how to communicate properly."
Bereshith nodded.
"I can talk."
Maria smiled.
"I know."
"Then what's the problem?"
"You talk too quickly."
Bereshith blinked.
"I do?"
"You also use words that are appropriate among friends but not always appropriate in formal conversation."
Bereshith thought about it.
"So... I need to stop talking like myself?"
"No," Maria replied gently. "You need to learn when to speak differently."
That answer made Bereshith quiet.
Maria continued.
"You grew up in circumstances where speaking quickly and directly was useful. You needed to make yourself understood. Sometimes you needed to sound intimidating. Sometimes you needed to speak before someone else could take advantage of you."
Bereshith looked down.
"But the academy is different."
"Exactly."
Maria leaned back.
"You will meet people from different families, different kingdoms, different cultures, and different social classes. Some will be kind. Some will be arrogant. Some will deliberately try to provoke you."
Bereshith raised an eyebrow.
"So I'm supposed to stay calm even if someone insults me?"
"Yes."
"That sounds difficult."
"It is."
Bereshith sighed.
"Wonderful."
Eva smiled.
"You're going to do fine."
Maria began correcting his speech.
Whenever Bereshith rushed through a sentence, she stopped him.
Whenever he used unnecessary filler words, she made him repeat himself.
Whenever he answered without listening to the entire question, she made him sit quietly and listen again.
At first, Bereshith became frustrated.
"Why do I have to pause before answering?"
"Because thinking before speaking is better than regretting what you said afterward."
Bereshith frowned.
"That makes sense."
"Good. Remember it."
As the days passed, the corrections became less frequent.
Bereshith began slowing his speech naturally.
He learned to listen carefully.
He learned that sometimes the best answer was not the longest one.
And sometimes, saying nothing was better than filling the silence with unnecessary words.
One afternoon, Maria deliberately asked him a difficult question.
"If someone insults your family in front of a crowd, what would you do?"
Bereshith immediately opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
He thought.
He remembered everything Maria had taught him.
He finally answered calmly.
"I would determine whether the person was trying to provoke me. If they were, I wouldn't give them the reaction they wanted."
Maria nodded.
"And if they continued?"
"I would respond firmly, but without losing control."
"And if they insulted you personally?"
Bereshith smiled slightly.
"I suppose I'd have to decide whether they're worth my time."
Eva smiled from across the room.
"That's much better."
Bereshith looked proud.
"I learned something."
Maria nodded.
"You did."
His lessons soon expanded beyond speech.
Maria believed that Bereshith needed to understand the world outside his own kingdom if he was going to study alongside people from influential families.
She began giving him books about ancient civilizations.
Bereshith found himself fascinated by them.
He read about kingdoms that had risen and fallen centuries before his birth.
He read about great wars, political alliances, explorers, merchants, artists, philosophers, and rulers.
Sometimes he would become so absorbed in a book that Maria had to remind him that his lesson had already ended.
One evening, Eva found him sitting beside the window with a history book in his hands.
"You've been reading that for nearly three hours."
Bereshith didn't look away from the page.
"Really?"
"Yes."
He finally looked up.
"I didn't notice."
Eva smiled.
"Is it interesting?"
Bereshith nodded.
"Very."
"What did you learn?"
He thought for a moment.
"That kingdoms don't usually fall because of one thing."
Eva raised an eyebrow.
"Go on."
"Sometimes it's war. Sometimes it's famine. Sometimes corruption. Sometimes the ruler makes terrible decisions. Sometimes the people lose faith in their government."
He closed the book.
"And sometimes several problems happen at the same time."
Eva smiled.
"That's a surprisingly mature observation."
Bereshith shrugged.
"I'm just reading."
"No. You're thinking." Like a gentle mother, Eva smiled at Bereshith contently.
That made Bereshith smile.
His studies soon expanded toward art and classical music.
The first time Maria introduced him to classical music, Bereshith looked completely confused.
He sat quietly while the musicians played.
After several minutes, Maria glanced toward him.
"Well?"
Bereshith hesitated.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to think."
"You aren't supposed to think anything. Just listen."
So he did.
The music continued.
At first, Bereshith heard only instruments.
But slowly, the sounds began to feel different.
Some parts sounded peaceful.
Others sounded sorrowful.
Some sounded almost like a celebration.
When the performance ended, Bereshith remained quiet for several seconds.
Maria smiled.
"What do you think?"
Bereshith looked toward the musicians.
"It sounds like a story."
Maria nodded.
"A story without words."
"Yeah."
Bereshith smiled faintly.
"I think I like it."
His lessons also began including reports about current events.
Every morning, Maria would place several documents in front of him.
Bereshith would read them and then explain what he understood.
At first, he simply repeated what the documents said.
Maria quickly corrected him.
"Don't simply tell me what happened. Tell me why it matters."
Bereshith frowned.
He read the document again.
Then he began thinking.
Eventually, he started asking questions.
"Why did the merchants increase the price?"
"Because the harvest was poor."
"Then why didn't the government reduce the tax?"
"That's what you should determine."
Bereshith stared at the document.
He slowly began realizing that the world was far more complicated than he had once believed.
Every decision affected someone.
A merchant's decision could affect a farmer.
A king's decision could affect a village.
A war between two nations could affect families thousands of miles away.
The more he learned, the more he realized how little he knew.
And strangely, he enjoyed that feeling.
There was always something else to discover.
Maria eventually began practicing small talk with him.
That proved to be another challenge.
"Tell me about your morning," Maria said.
Bereshith answered immediately.
"I woke up, ate breakfast, exercised, and came here."
Maria stared at him.
Bereshith stared back.
"What?"
"That's not conversation."
"It answered your question."
"It did."
Maria sighed.
"But you need to learn how to continue a conversation."
"How?"
"Ask me something."
Bereshith thought.
"What did you eat?"
"Bread and fruit."
Bereshith nodded.
"That's nice."
Silence.
Maria raised an eyebrow.
Bereshith frowned.
"What?"
"Continue."
He looked toward Eva.
Eva was trying not to laugh.
Bereshith sighed.
"What do you usually eat for breakfast?"
Maria smiled.
"Better."
Slowly, he learned.
He learned to ask about someone's travels.
Their interests.
Their favorite sports.
Books they had read.
Places they had visited.
Charitable work.
Music.
Food.
The weather.
Things that seemed insignificant could become the beginning of a meaningful conversation.
Meanwhile, Eva began working on another aspect of his preparation.
One morning, she entered his room carrying several sets of clothing.
Bereshith looked at them.
"What are those?"
"Your clothes."
"I already have clothes."
Eva smiled.
"You have clothes. You don't necessarily have THE right clothes."
Bereshith looked confused.
She helped him choose an outfit appropriate for a formal academy environment.
She adjusted his collar.
Straightened his sleeves.
Fixed his belt.
Then she stepped back.
Bereshith looked into the mirror.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing."
"Then why did you change everything?"
"Because details matter."
Eva pointed toward his shoes.
"They need to be clean."
Then she gently fixed his hair.
"Your hair should be neat."
She inspected his hands.
"Your nails should be clean."
Bereshith looked at them.
"I didn't realize people cared about that."
"People notice more than you think."
She smiled.
"You don't need expensive jewelry or flashy accessories. In fact, too much can make you look less refined."
Bereshith nodded.
"So simple is better?"
"When appropriate."
She adjusted his collar one final time.
"Clean, modest, and well-maintained."
Bereshith looked at himself again.
For a moment, he barely recognized the boy standing in front of the mirror.
Not because his appearance had changed completely.
But because he looked like someone who belonged in a place where scholars and nobles gathered.
Yet beneath the polished clothing was still the same Bereshith.
The same child who had once wandered through the streets.
The same boy who had protected Yareach.
The same person who had survived hunger, violence, grief, and even death itself.
Eva noticed his expression.
"Something wrong?"
Bereshith shook his head.
"No."
He smiled faintly.
"I'm just thinking about how strange my life has become."
Eva smiled warmly.
"Life changes."
Bereshith looked at himself again.
"A few years ago, I didn't even know what half these things were."
"And now?" Eva replied respectfully.
He thought about it.
"Now I still don't know what half these things are."
Eva laughed.
Bereshith smiled.
"But I'm learning."
"That is what matters."
Maria entered the room carrying another book.
"Enough talking. Your language lesson begins in five minutes."
Bereshith's smile disappeared.
"Already?"
Maria nodded.
"Already."
He looked toward Eva.
"She enjoys watching me suffer."
Eva laughed.
"I wouldn't say suffer."
Bereshith picked up the book.
"What would you call it?"
"Education."
He sighed.
"Everyone keeps calling it that."
Maria smiled.
"And you're becoming better because of it."
Bereshith looked down at the book.
Then he smiled.
"Then let's continue."
And so the second month continued.
Day after day, Bereshith learned.
He learned to speak carefully without losing his natural voice.
He learned to listen before responding.
He learned to hold conversations instead of escaping them.
He learned about kingdoms beyond his own, about history, art, music, politics, and the people who shaped the world.
He learned to appreciate things he had never encountered during his childhood.
And he learned to present himself with quiet confidence rather than trying to impress others.
The academy was getting closer.
But Bereshith was no longer afraid of it.
He knew there would be people smarter than him.
People richer than him.
People more experienced than him.
There would probably even be people who looked down on him.
But he was beginning to understand something important.
He didn't need to become someone else to stand among them.
He simply needed to become the best version of himself.
And for the first time, Bereshith was beginning to believe that he could.
As Days continue.
The second month ended with Bereshith beginning to understand that entering the academy would require far more than simply knowing how to read, write, and fight.
He had spent years learning how to survive.
Now, Maria and Eva were teaching him how to live among people who had been raised in a completely different world.
And the lessons did not stop when the second month ended.
They only became harder.
By the beginning of the third month, Bereshith's daily routine had become almost mechanical.
He woke before sunrise.
He washed, dressed, ate breakfast, exercised, and then reported to the study room.
Maria was usually already waiting for him.
Eva would arrive shortly afterward, carrying whatever materials they needed for the day's lessons.
There were no excuses.
No holidays.
No "I'm tired today."
Even when Bereshith woke up feeling exhausted, Maria would simply place a cup of warm tea in front of him and smile.
"You may rest after your lessons are finished."
Bereshith stared at her.
"You're ruthless."
Maria smiled.
"And you're improving."
That was enough to make him sit down.
The third month became increasingly focused on putting everything he had learned into practice.
Maria no longer interrupted him every few seconds.
Instead, she watched.
That was somehow worse.
Bereshith had discovered that being corrected was easier than being observed.
One morning, he entered the study room and found Maria sitting at the far end of the table.
She gestured toward the chair.
"Good morning, Bereshith."
Bereshith straightened his posture.
"Good morning, Madam."
Maria raised an eyebrow.
"Try again."
Bereshith blinked.
"Good morning, Lady Maria."
"Better."
He sat down.
Maria folded her hands.
"Today, I'm not going to teach you anything."
Bereshith immediately became suspicious.
"Then what am I doing here?"
"You're going to demonstrate what you've learned."
His suspicion became certainty.
"That's worse."
Eva laughed softly from beside the window.
Maria smiled.
"Begin."
For the next hour, Bereshith was placed into different imaginary situations.
He was asked to greet nobles.
He was asked to respond to criticism.
He was asked to receive compliments.
He was asked to disagree with someone older than him.
He was asked what he would do if someone deliberately embarrassed him in front of others.
He answered each question carefully.
Sometimes he made mistakes.
Sometimes he spoke too quickly.
Sometimes his old personality slipped through.
But every time Maria corrected him, Bereshith tried again.
After several attempts, Maria finally nodded.
"You're beginning to understand."
Bereshith smiled.
"Does that mean I'm finished?"
"No."
His smile disappeared.
Eva laughed.
"You'll eventually learn not to ask that question."
As the third month progressed, the lessons became more complicated.
Maria began inviting other members of the household into the study sessions.
Sometimes Eva participated.
Sometimes Yareach would sit nearby and listen.
Even Lucas occasionally appeared, although his presence usually made Bereshith nervous because his father had a habit of deliberately trying to make him laugh in the middle of serious lessons.
One afternoon, Lucas walked into the room while Maria was teaching.
"Bereshith."
Bereshith turned.
"Yes, Father?"
Lucas smiled.
"Someone has just insulted your family."
Bereshith narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
Lucas crossed his arms.
"I'm pretending."
Bereshith sighed.
"Of course you are."
"What do you do?"
Bereshith thought carefully.
"I remain calm."
Lucas nodded.
"And?"
"I don't immediately respond."
"And?"
Bereshith smiled.
"I decide whether responding is actually necessary."
Lucas grinned.
"Good."
Maria nodded approvingly.
"That's precisely what you should do."
Lucas turned toward Maria.
"See? He's learning."
Bereshith looked at his father.
"You sound surprised."
"I'm extremely surprised."
"Father."
Lucas laughed.
The lesson continued.
By the fourth month, Bereshith's training changed again.
The lessons became less about individual skills and more about combining everything he had learned.
Maria would give him an entire situation.
He would have to enter a room properly, greet everyone, determine who held the highest position, listen to the conversation, respond appropriately, and maintain his composure.
Eva paid close attention to his appearance.
She would inspect his clothing before every exercise.
Sometimes she would straighten his collar.
Sometimes she would fix his sleeves.
Sometimes she would simply look at his shoes and shake her head.
Bereshith eventually learned to check himself before she could say anything.
One morning, Eva approached him.
She looked at his clothes.
Then his hair.
Then his shoes.
Bereshith waited.
Eva smiled.
"Good."
Bereshith smiled proudly.
"Nothing to correct?"
"Nothing."
He looked toward Maria.
"Did you hear that?"
Maria smiled.
"Don't let it go to your head."
Bereshith laughed.
"I'm beginning to think you two enjoy making me nervous."
Eva smiled.
"Perhaps."
The fourth month also brought more difficult conversations.
Maria would deliberately disagree with him.
Sometimes she would challenge his opinions.
Sometimes she would present arguments he disagreed with.
Bereshith had to learn something he had never needed to learn during his childhood.
Not every disagreement was a fight.
He could disagree with someone without hating them.
He could listen without surrendering his beliefs.
He could defend his position without raising his voice.
One afternoon, Maria asked him a difficult question.
"What happens when someone refuses to accept your answer?"
Bereshith thought for several seconds.
"I explain it again."
"And if they still disagree?"
"Then we disagree."
Maria nodded.
"And?"
Bereshith smiled.
"We can still remain friends."
Maria's expression softened.
"Exactly."
His knowledge continued expanding as well.
Every evening, Bereshith spent time reading.
History.
Geography.
Politics.
Literature.
Art.
Music.
Foreign cultures.
He began learning another language.
At first, the unfamiliar words frustrated him.
He would stare at the page for several minutes before repeating the pronunciation.
Sometimes Maria corrected him.
Sometimes Eva corrected Maria's pronunciation.
Sometimes everyone ended up laughing.
But Bereshith persisted.
Every day, he learned a few more words.
Then a few more.
Eventually, he could introduce himself, exchange basic greetings, ask simple questions, and understand common expressions.
He wasn't fluent.
Not even close.
But he was improving.
And Maria reminded him that fluency was not the immediate goal.
"The important thing is that you are willing to communicate with someone in their own language."
Bereshith nodded.
"Even if I make mistakes?"
"Especially then."
The fifth month arrived before Bereshith realized it.
The final month.
The month before the academy.
The month that everyone had been waiting for.
By then, Bereshith's routine had become part of his life.
He no longer complained about waking early.
He no longer complained about reading.
He no longer complained when Eva corrected his clothing.
He simply did it.
One morning, Bereshith stood before the mirror.
He adjusted his collar.
Checked his sleeves.
Looked at his shoes.
Then he inspected his hair.
He nodded.
Everything was in order.
Eva entered the room.
She stopped when she saw him.
"You checked yourself already?"
Bereshith nodded.
"Yes."
Eva smiled.
"You didn't need me."
Bereshith turned toward her.
"That's because you've been teaching me."
Eva's smile became warmer.
"Then perhaps I've done my job."
Bereshith smiled.
"Not yet."
Eva looked surprised.
"Why?"
"Because I still have another month of lessons."
She laughed.
"Good answer."
The fifth month became a final examination of everything.
Maria stopped teaching him individual lessons.
Instead, she created entire situations.
Bereshith would spend hours pretending he was already an academy student.
He would enter rooms.
Speak with instructors.
Meet nobles.
Speak with commoners.
Participate in discussions.
Listen to arguments.
Handle criticism.
Accept praise.
Answer questions.
And sometimes deliberately endure provocation.
Maria became particularly strict about his emotional control.
One afternoon, she deliberately insulted his abilities.
"You're not as intelligent as you think you are."
Bereshith stared at her.
For a moment, his old instincts surfaced.
Then he breathed slowly.
"Perhaps you're right."
Maria raised an eyebrow.
"That's all?"
Bereshith nodded.
"If I am wrong, then I should improve."
Maria smiled.
"And if I'm wrong?"
Bereshith smiled back.
"Then I don't need to prove it."
Maria became silent.
Eva smiled from the corner.
Bereshith had finally understood.
He didn't need to win every conversation.
He didn't need to prove himself to everyone.
He simply needed to know himself.
The days passed.
Then the weeks.
Soon, the final week arrived.
Bereshith sat at the dining table one evening with Maria and Eva.
There were no books.
No exercises.
No tests.
Just dinner.
Bereshith looked around.
"This feels strange."
Maria smiled.
"Why?"
"You're not teaching me anything."
Eva laughed.
"Perhaps we're giving you a break."
Bereshith narrowed his eyes.
"You're planning something."
"We are not."
He looked between them suspiciously.
Then he smiled.
For the first time in months, he wasn't worried about making a mistake.
He had spent five months learning.
Five months practicing.
Five months failing and trying again.
Five months being corrected.
Five months slowly transforming himself.
Not into someone completely different.
But into someone who could carry himself with confidence without forgetting where he came from.
Later that night, Bereshith stood outside beneath the cold evening sky.
He looked toward the distant academy.
The place he had once considered impossible to enter was now only days away.
He quietly breathed in the cold air.
Then he smiled.
"Five months ago, I didn't even know if I could do this."
Maria stood behind him.
"And now?"
Bereshith turned.
He smiled warmly.
"Now I'm ready to try."
Eva approached and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.
"That's all anyone can ask of you."
Bereshith looked toward the academy again.
He knew he would still make mistakes.
He knew there would be people better educated than him.
He knew there would be people who would judge him because of his past.
He knew the academy would not be easy.
But he was no longer the boy who had entered the palace after years of hardship and wondered whether he belonged.
He had learned.
He had healed.
He had grown.
And he had never forgotten who he was.
As the final night of preparation arrived, Bereshith quietly closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would be different.
For the first time in his life, he would step into an academy not as a survivor begging for a place in the world...
but as Bereshith.
Ready to begin again.