Reincarnated into Two Bodies

“You… who could hear what others cannot. Do you feel the same way?”

The moment Munith spoke those words, a chill ran up my spine.

What do you mean by "feel the same way”?

Her monologue echoed once more in my mind; each word was something far more than just a simple speech.

A broken machine.

A bird flying with one wing.

Fish thrashing on dry land.

She spoke of her twenty-four-year isolation, a loneliness born from understanding things the rest of us peasants couldn't comprehend.

It was the speech of someone completely detached from humanity. Not out of privilege, but out of depth. She wasn't looking down at the world with the gentle benevolence of a princess waving from a palace balcony; she was looking at it with the cold, exhausted pity of a scientist who was sick of watching the lab rats run in circles.

How in the world was I supposed to "feel the same way" about that? I’m just someone trying to survive having two bodies at once.

But, in the first place… how was the world actually supposed to run? Was it really so different from how it is now that it warranted her existential isolation? And if it bothered her that much, had she actually tried to do anything about it?

I had a vague inkling of what she meant, but keeping these questions to myself wasn't going to get me anywhere. I needed answers, and I needed them before my face gave away how stressed out I actually was. It was time to take a shot.

“Miss Monica… Or rather, Munith,” I corrected myself.

There was no point in sticking to the cover story anymore, not with this sound-isolating magic surrounding the room.

Though I couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was from a spell or some high-grade artifact, the fact that it was strong enough to muffle the outside world this much in my ears told me everything I needed to know. No one was going to hear us in here.

And honestly, dropping the fake name just felt right for the weight of the situation.

I leaned back a bit, trying to look way more relaxed than I actually felt.

“The world you imagined… or the world that you seek… What kind of world is it?”

Munith didn't move. She remained standing by the window, the pale sunlight catching the edges of her yellow cloak, but her posture had sharpened. Her eyes bore deep into mine, narrowing as she studied every single micro-expression on my face. She was looking for a crack, a sign, a tell.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until she finally spoke.

“You… truly don’t remember, do you?”

I blinked.

Remember what?

A moment of silence stretched between us.

Munith looked away from me, her gaze dropping to the floorboards. “Is it really true…?” she mumbled to herself, using that foreign language. Her voice was so soft it was barely a whisper. “Is it really just me? Am I the only one who can remember?”

She sounded tired. Genuinely, deeply tired. For a second, the princess shrouded with mystery that I was terrified of… vanished, replaced by a girl carrying what seemed to be the weight of the world.

Munith took a slow breath, squared her shoulders, and turned back toward me. The intense, predatory sharpness in her eyes was gone, replaced by a gentle, almost soft smile. The sudden shift made me alert… but perhaps what alerted me more… was that her softness felt genuine.

“Well,” she said, her tone light, almost dismissive. “It doesn’t concern you for now. Don't worry your head about it.”

That’s going to be hard to do, you know?

“All you truly need to know right now is that I am not your enemy. I have no intention of using you, or hurting you, or pulling you into whatever schemes you think I am brewing,” she continued, her voice steady and sincere.

“Today... I am just so deeply grateful to know that I am truly, no longer alone in this world.”

The raw weight of her words hung in the soundproofed air. Hearing someone, especially a princess who seemed to hold all the cards, admit to that kind of bone-deep loneliness struck a chord I wasn't prepared for.

I sat up a bit straighter in my chair, clearing the tightness from my throat. I needed to anchor myself back to reality, back to the mystery that had brought me to this room in the first place.

“Does this mean the report was right?” I asked, my voice quieter than usual. “Do you really only have two Talent Symbols too?”

Munith didn't hesitate. She gave a slow, solemn nod, acknowledging the truth.

“Indeed,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “The same as you.”

Hearing it confirm it directly, not vague-like like before, lifted a heavy weight off my chest.

For the first time, I felt like I wasn’t alone, stuck with only two Talent symbols. If there was a feeling that we shared, it was that. I had finally found a real thread to pull on.

I took a slow breath, trying to steady the sudden, frantic rush of my thoughts. If she shared this condition, then she had to hold the key to the rest of it. She had to know more.

“Then…” I started, my voice tight as I leaned closer across the dark-wood table, locking my eyes onto hers. “Does one of your two symbols… include a mysterious symbol? A symbol that isn't listed in any official Talent record?”

Munith didn't look surprised by the question. She just kept that soft, wistful gaze fixed on me, as she nodded.

“T-Then… Do you know what it means?” I pressed, the words tumbling out a little faster now, fueled by a desperate, rising hope. “Do you know what that symbol actually does?”

Munith stood entirely still for a long moment. Then, she slowly closed her eyes, letting out a soft, silent breath.

When she opened them again, the heavy, solemn mask was gone, and that familiar, slightly amused smile crawled back onto her lips.

“I have absolutely no idea,” she said, her tone completely cheerful and unbothered.

I stared at her.

Slowly, I began to hear the noise outside of this room once more. There was the chirping of birds singing rhythmically, as if mocking me. The apple guy was haggling with a lady who asked for an even lower price. And downstairs, Rene was going absolute ham on those guards earlier.

Inside the room, though, a slow, agonizing silence stretched across the dark-wood table.

“...Huh?”

“I’m not teasing you or anything, I mean exactly what I said,” she elaborated, leaning back slightly. “I don’t know the full meaning or the exact reason behind that symbol either; I’m still in the middle of figuring it out.”

“B-But… you’re a princess, right?” I pointed out. “Surely you have access to royal archives or such. And you're telling me you have no idea?”

“None whatsoever, unfortunately,” she replied smoothly. “All that I know now is that this symbol signifies that we are anomalies in this world. Or, as I’d prefer to call it, the ‘chosen ones’,” she said with a melodic hum.

“I see…”

So even she was drawing a blank on that front.

I was starting to think I would never uncover the mystery of that symbol.

But then, I began to realize something. What was her goal?

She clearly didn’t share my objective of solving the mystery of the symbol. If she did, she would’ve shown at least a flicker of disappointment when I turned out to be completely clueless. Instead, she was entirely unbothered. Could finding out that someone else like her existed really be her sole reason for rushing this meeting?

I somehow doubt that.

The soft sound of liquid pouring into porcelain snapped me out of my thoughts.

When I focused back on the present, I found Munith calmly pouring a cup of tea for both of us. She gently pushed one of the filled cups toward my side of the table, its soothing, herbal fragrance instantly cutting through the stagnant air of the room.

“You look tense, Feyt. Relax, I already told you I’m not here to mess with you,” she said, offering a bright smile. “Or… are you perhaps overthinking something else?”

I stared at the steam rising from the porcelain, took a slow, cautious sip, and set the cup down.

“You’re right, I am thinking of something,” I said, slowly shifting my gaze back up to lock onto hers. “What exactly is your goal in finding me? Is it truly just to know that there’s someone else out there with only two symbols?”

Munith leaned back in her chair, her fingers lightly tapping the edge of her teacup.

"To know I'm not alone? That's part of it, yes," she admitted. "But more than that, I needed to see what kind of person you were. Though I have to confess, our meeting was a bit of a happy accident. Originally, you weren't the one I was testing."

I paused, the teacup halfway to my lips. "What do you mean?"

"’ A Quiet Love,’" Munith said, a small, amused smirk playing on her lips. "I had a specific target in mind when writing that story. I gave it directly to your mistress, Lady Carine Sareid.”

The moment my other name was mentioned, I froze in my seat, keeping my face as still as possible.

"I had my suspicions about her for a while," Munith continued, completely oblivious to the panic storm brewing behind my eyes. "My little rival suddenly became interested in her… and I couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. So, I decided on a little… expedition. I visited her whenever she’s nearby, approached her during parties, and even staged a meeting, just to get to know her well.”

Stage a meeting?

Don’t tell me… the meeting at the Royal Library was staged?!

“I had an inkling she might be who I was looking for, so I decided it was time for a test," Munith explained, leaning her chin back on her palm.

"I wrote that book, and buried within its pages, I used a language that only someone like us could truly understand. But then, imagine my surprise when I found out that you were the one who ended up with it. When you told me then that the book practically pulled you in… it was as if destiny itself willed it.”

I swallowed hard, keeping my lips pressed into a neutral line.

That….

That was just a total coincidence, though.

But then... I realized something.

Does this mean she doesn’t know Carine also has only two symbols?

“In comparison, Carine didn’t seem interested in reading it at all. It is a miracle that the book still found its worth by making its way to you,” she said, a proud smile on her face.

Should… should I tell her? freewebnovёl.ƈom

Should I tell this princess, right here and now, that the only reason Carine didn't read the novel is because Carine is literally me? That the target she had so easily dismissed as a regular human was the exact same soul sharing my two symbols? That she hadn't missed her mark at all… she had just missed a bullseye and somehow hit another bullseye in the process?

The urge to lay all my cards on the table was overwhelming, but a cold, sharp survivalist instinct slammed the brakes on the thought before it could reach my mouth.

No. Absolutely not. At least, not right now.

She might have claimed that she wasn’t my enemy, and she might have smiled like a relieved girl who had finally found a friend, but I wasn't an idiot.

Without understanding what her ultimate goal actually was, I couldn’t bring myself to trust her, especially not with the grandest, most dangerous secret of my existence.

“Oh, but I do hope you won’t mention any of this to your Lady, okay?” Munith suddenly added, breaking my train of thought. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest, tilting her head with a playful, almost pleading wink. “It would be dreadfully embarrassing if she found out I was spying on her.”

And you’re revealing this in front of her future bodyguard?

“U-Uhh… sure,” I stammered, my voice a little tighter than I wanted. “Your secret is safe with me, Your Highness.”

“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “Now that you’ve actually found me… what exactly is your goal? What happens next?”

Munith slowly lowered her hands from her face, her playful demeanor softening back into that calm, unreadable mask.

“Nothing,” she said simply. “For now, at least. Not until you’re ready.”

“Ready?” I parroted. “And… when exactly am I going to be ready?”

“When the time comes, you’ll know,” she replied.

Back to being vague and mysterious, huh?

Before I could press her for a real answer, the heavy, mysterious atmosphere she had built up completely evaporated.

Munith suddenly leaned forward across the table, her eyes sparkling with a bright glint. Her entire posture shifted, her shoulders dropping as she rested her chin on her hands, instantly adopting the persona of a gossiping noble girl cornering a friend at a tea party.

“But enough about me!” she chirped, her voice bouncing back into that high-pitched, bubbly tone. “Let’s talk about you, Sir Feyt! What exactly is your goal right now? What is it that you’re working so hard for to the point of joining a Ducal house?”

I was completely taken aback. The sudden whiplash from cryptic princess to a teenager looking for juicy drama almost made me choke on my tongue. I blinked at her, my mind scrambling to adjust to the new pace.

“M-My goal?” I stammered. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, looking down at my teacup to avoid her piercing, amused gaze. Then, calmly, I answered. “Right now, I’m just focused on getting stronger. I need to be able to protect myself, and… the people I care about.”

Munith’s smile widened, her eyes narrowing delightfully.

“The people you care about, hmm?” she purred, leaning in just a fraction closer. “You mean Lady Carine, right?”

A sudden bout of shock and embarrassment jolted through me.

Why, of all names, would you bring that up first?

But… she’s not inherently wrong.

“I mean… yeah... But also my family. I’ve faced several dangers before, and I realize just how dangerous this world could be. I wish I could be someone who can be relied on. That's all.”

Munith’s playful expression softened, the gossiping-girl mask fading into something more grounded. She looked at me for a quiet moment, her sharp eyes tracing the sincerity on my face.

“A noble goal,” she murmured, leaning back. “Though I think it’s a bit small, personally. But I suppose everyone must start somewhere.”

Before I could ask what she meant by that, the wooden chair scraped lightly against the floorboards. Munith stood up, her yellow cloak catching the pale sunlight once more. She stepped away from the window and walked around the table, stopping just a few paces away from me.

Slowly, she extended her right hand.

“Still, as your friend, I will be there to help you,” she said, her voice bright. “Whatever it is you want to know, whatever mysteries you are trying to unwrap... I can probably help you find the answers. If you ever need me, just send a letter through Rene like yesterday, okay?”

I stared at her slender hand for a second. I still didn't fully trust her motives, and I still didn't know what her ultimate game was, but right now, we were walking the same path.

“Okay,” I said.

I stood up from my chair and reached out to take her hand. Her grip was surprisingly firm for such a slender hand.

“Thank you for this meeting, Feyt,” Munith said, offering a small, polite smile. She glanced toward the double doors. “But sadly, that is all the free time I have for today.”

“Right. Thank you, Your Highness—I mean, Miss Monica,” I corrected myself quickly, reaching over to pick up the stack of her novels and sliding them back into my bag.

"Rene will escort you back to the academy. I hope you have a wonderful rest of the day, Feyt!" she flashed a bright, cheerful smile.

"You too, Miss Monica!" I answered in kind, offering my own smile.

Before long, we said our goodbyes.

I hadn't gotten the exact answers I wanted about my mysterious symbol, but I was leaving this room with something far more valuable: a powerful, but still very vague, ally…

I gripped the brass handle of the door, taking one last look over my shoulder. Munith was already turning back to the window, her platinum ponytail swaying slightly.

I pulled the door open, stepped out into the loud, bustling hallway of the restaurant, and let the heavy double doors click shut behind me.