One More Life

Get me a Book, Please

After learning how to write, Ainsley wanted to learn how to read. (Even if Ainsley knows that he can read, he can't go to the I'm-a-genius route and not expect that a lot of people will be on his tail later because he's a genius.) So, he asked Hans if he can teach him how to read. Hans agreed without any hesitation. Rather, Hans was excited that his young master is so willing to learn. A month ago, his young master was reluctant on learning how to read. Not that the child didn't any basic words, rather, the words on books are too hard for the child to understand. Hence why, Hans started using more complex words in his day-to-day communication to, at least, encourage the child to learn. Whether it was effective or not, Hans didn't care. The male is more focused on the fact that his young master is now more energetic than the last time he saw him. And that's what matters to Hans. The more active the child, the more Hans feels the child is alive.

"Don't worry, young master! I will have the books ready for you the next time we meet!" said Hans as he scurried off. Dust leaving in his trail with how excited the male is. Ainsley sighed, wondering on why Hans was so... animated. Or is it because Hans is more in-tune with his emotions than Ainsley is. Emotions. Something that Ainsley always had trouble understanding of. He rarely gets mad, happy, sad, frustrated. In general, Ainsley is the depiction of an emotionless man. Even when he was a young lad, his father was worried about him. Sometimes thinking whether Ainsley was a sociopath or not. His siblings would try to make him smile at least once a day. When he grew older, they now changed it from once a day to once a week. By the time Ainsley was in his twenties, they changed it to once a month. They would make jokes, dark and not, skits at times. Ainsley knows that they're doing out of the goodness of their hearts, but their skits are...bland, so to speak.

Ainsley scratched the back of his head, his mind recalling the time that his siblings were doing this one specific skit that he can't forget. It was inspired by Blue Riding Hood and the jokes were all over the place. His eldest brother even had trouble remembering his lines that his twin had to butt in and improvise. Unknowingly, Ainsley let out a snicker. "Those idiots..." he muttered under his breath. Ainsley's family was the best. Nothing could ever replace them. Especially his father. That old man worked from day till night and somehow still have time for him and his siblings. And was so lovestruck with their mother. Even after her death, the man would tell stories of their adventures or casual talks. There was never a day that Ainsley didn't hear his father talk about his mother. When he and his twin were born, it's as if his father had fallen in love with their mother further. Whether it's because she sacrificed her life to Ainsley and his older twin or how Ainsley's twin had identical features to their mother. Ainsley doesn't know. Mayhap, Ainsley doesn't want to know. The male thinks it's better that way.

Scratching the backside of his head, Ainsley returned all of the journals and scattered papers back to where he got them. Sadly, there weren't any windows in the room for Ainsley to stare off into the distance. Just tiny ventilation at an area that Ainsley is sure no one can reach without a ladder. After inspecting his room and turning every table upside down, there wasn't anything that Ainsley can do. Except for practicing how to write, that is. Other than that, there's nothing. Zilch. Nada. If this continues, Ainsley would dare to blurt out random (possible) spell names that he could think of. Fireball. Snowball. Water blade. Dash even. Who knows if that's an actual spell or not since, at most, it's considered as a skill.

Lying on his bed, Ainsley stared at the ceiling. Pondering on what he could do to kill some time. He could try sneaking off for once. With that, he would know how to get out of this place when needed. But the problem is the maids, knights, and butlers on night duty. Knowing his reputation in this household, who knows what kind of punishment would befall Ainsley when he gets caught? The last time Ainsley went out, the maid didn't even hesitate to throw him back to his room. Not even caring if he got hurt or not. Other than Hans, everyone in this place hates him. Or has some sort of grudge against him. Which makes Ainsley wonder; what the hell did the original do? He's a freaking child. There's nothing that a child can do except cry their hearts out. Did the original snitch on them when they were slacking off? That's hardly possible considering he hasn't seen the original's father. Not even a glance nor did Hans mention his father to him. And look at the state of his room! If the original's father had a brain to at least take care of his child, surely there would be a toy or two.