Moriarty the Patriot x Modern/Reincarnated Reader

Discovery

The first life I (believe I) was of an ordinary child. A loving nuclear family. Myself, as the oldest, striving to do the best the can in life and fulfill life goals. Facing trials and gaining experiences that helped me succeed in life. I had many interests and hobbies that I learned in my spare time. I had fun learning survival techniques and skills like making yarn from spinning wheels, weaving fabric, and creating cosmetics from the family beehive. I had a full life that was full of learning and creation. I was satisfied and passed on to the afterlife peacefully. What I did not expect was waking up on a new body...that might be a wrong way of phrasing it. I was originally reborn without my memories, a child born in a house of nobility. I had a peaceful beginning with loving parents, but this life did not last. When my memories returned to me, it was due to tragedy. My uncle, my father's brother, killed my family and almost killed me as well. Thankfully, the sound of footsteps coming in our directions stopped him. He proceeded to throw a chair out the window before grabbing me in a tight hug as the door slammed open. He whispered in my ear "If you want to live, you will obey." before shouting;

"Oh GOD, please have mercy on my family!" He proceeded to wail to the heavens for the cruelty he wreaked on my family. Once the authorities came, Uncle told an elaborate story of how a slum rat snuck in to steal, and when he and Father confronted it, it used the decorative saber that hanged on the wall to attack them. He said how the mother placed herself in front to protect us, only to perish with my father following after to protect me. He tearfully stated that the rat almost got him when it was scared off by incoming footsteps. He personally thanked the people who first came into the room, calling them our saviors. Everyone bought the story, never asking my version as my uncle said I was in shock and to have sympathy for my mental state. He soon asked to be excused, to comfort me and prepare for the upcoming funerals.

I was forcefully removed from the room my family laid by the man who tore us apart. Once in the carriage, his demeanor returned to the demon who killed my family. With a snaked tongue he whispers poisoned comforts as he verbally chained me into his service. I would be his heir, to help him maintain his image as a loving uncle who lost his brother and sister-in-law, caring for the last living memory of them in the form of me.  If I desired to keep my life, I must obey. Obey, obey, obey.

I slowly, under his 'tender loving care,' became the perfect heir. All he desired from me, I accomplished his favorite puppet that he lovingly cared with sweet cyanide. My body, mind, and spirit became shackled. The hissed whispers of "obey, obey, obey" repeated like a mantra in my mind. As I laid on my bed at night, a stream of tears would flow down a face devoid of emotion, eyes empty, and reflective as glass.

Someone, anyone, help...please...please!

-Five Years Later-

It's my birthday. My uncle prepared an extravagant party out of his love (to make connections with other nobles). I played the role I was given perfectly, as one can only do with years of practice. I smiled in a way that is considered charming, kissed hands, shook hands, made polite and intelligent conversations, and most importantly showed devotion to the guardian that gave me all that I have. I am my uncle's stepping stone to higher society so they must know he was "worthy" of their time.

After some time, my uncle tapped my shoulder and whispered in my ear: "I want you to find the Moriartys. They are a high noble family that almost died out recently. Only their three sons survived. I want you to make a connection with them. After all, your both orphans." And with that, gave my shoulder a hard squeeze that would look comforting but would more than likely leave a bruise before leaving to mingle with other guests.

Fellow orphans. Are they sad I wonder? Over the years I seem to become less and less attached to emotions. I need serious help and will never get it. After many years of yearning, the hopeful flame had slowly died to smoldering embers. Obey, obey, obey. That is what I must do. To live, to use the life my loving parents died to protect. Hiding my lips behind a gloved hand, I released a deep breath.

"It seems as if you are carrying a heavy burden. One would think the man of the hour would be more enthusiastic to be the center of attention."

I startled, when did someone come over? I turned to look at the child who looked to be about my age. Silky golden hair, slim body, and eyes as red as well-aged wine eyed me knowingly. All I could do was stare, it felt like those eyes were seeing past my spiritless eyes and seeing me within, screaming within the chains of my body. He came closer, taking both his hands to grab my head and bring it closer till our noses almost touched and whispered into our shared breath:

"Shall I set you free?"