The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

A striking 10‑year‑old boy with gleaming silver hair stood before me, his sky‑blue eyes alight with self‑admiration.

Draped in a deep, noble blue suit that accentuated the brilliance of his eyes, he radiated a carefully cultivated air of confidence.

[Narcissist...]

’Shut up and admit that I’m the most beautiful being to ever grace this world.’

My smug expression deepened as I tilted my head slightly, revelling in the perfection of my reflection before a tall, ornate mirror.

Knock, knock

The sound barely reached my ears before the door to my room swung open. A maid stepped in, bowing slightly.

"Young master, the lady wishes to meet with you before your fiancé arrives," she said softly, her voice carrying an urgency that seemed to cut through the early morning stillness.

’Fiancé, huh.’

Just last week, my stepmother came to me with some unexpected news, informing me that I had a fiancé, and to my dismay, I had no choice but to accept this arrangement.

She hadn’t even bothered to tell me who my fiancée was, as though that detail were beneath my concern. It was as if my own life had been reduced to a chess piece moved at her whim, and I was expected to simply comply without question.

But thanks to the maids gossiping among themselves, I managed to gather some information about my fiancé.

It turns out that she is the third daughter of an Earl who has recently come into a significant amount of wealth.

"Alright, let’s go."

I followed my maid to the garden.

There, seated with impeccable poise, was my stepmother.

Her posture was so straight it seemed the world itself dared not bend her. Her dark gown, perfectly tailored, clung to her frame with an austere elegance, every fold and button speaking of control.

Her face was a study in authority: sharp cheekbones, unyielding grey eyes that could pierce through the bravest of souls, and lips pressed into a line that hinted at a lifetime of giving commands, not receiving them. Even the way her gloved hands rested upon her lap suggested she ruled not just this household, but any space she occupied.

But this didn’t shake me. I lowered myself onto the chair opposite her, my gaze never faltering.

"You called for me, Duchess," I said evenly.

Her eyes, sharp and cold, narrowed at my words. "How many times," she said, enunciating each syllable with quiet venom, "must I remind you to bow before addressing me?"

The air between us was thick with her disapproval, but I refused to give ground.

"Why should I bow when neither my stepbrother nor my stepsister does?" I thought silently.

"I apologize," I said aloud, letting my voice carry a note of polite contrition. "But my back hurts when I bow."

With that, I closed my eyes and summoned the largest, most radiant smile I could muster, as if it might shield me from the icy edge of her stare.

"You will conduct yourself correctly when your fiancée arrives," my stepmother said, her voice as smooth and sharp as a blade. "If you do anything to threaten this engagement, I will ensure the Duke disowns you immediately."

Her words hung in the air like a decree, every syllable weighted with authority. I could almost feel the garden itself stilling in response, the birds and the breeze fading into silence.

She did not blink, did not shift, her gaze pinning me in place as though daring me to test her resolve.

I forced my smile to remain, though a flicker of irritation stirred behind it.

Without waiting for my response, she stood up. "You will wait here until she arrives." With those last words, she made her way back into the estate, walking with elegant poise.

I watched her retreating figure, her every step measured, exuding authority that seemed to echo through the silent garden.

When she finally disappeared from my sight, I turned my head toward the maid who had led me to the garden.

"Wake me up when she arrives," I murmured.

"But young mast..." Her panicked voice faded into the warm summer air as I rested my head on the table and let my eyes close, surrendering to the weight pressing against my mind.

The scent of blossoms drifted across the garden, the faint hum of bees and rustle of leaves lulling me into a drowsy calm. Whatever storm awaited me when my fiancée arrived could wait a while longer.

For now, I retreated into my quiet world of dreams, the world and its expectations slipping away.

***

"Young master... Young master, please wake up."

I blinked my eyes open, the warm sunlight spilling across the garden and my head still heavy with sleep. My maid’s anxious face came into view, hovering above me. Her hands trembled slightly as she shook me from the drowsy world I’d fled to.

The first thing I noticed as I sat up was the girl standing just behind her. She was... cute with soft purple hair that caught the light and shimmered like amethyst. She wore a refined dress of white and lavender, every frill and ribbon perfectly in place, radiating elegance without effort.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. Her eyes, wide and luminous, flicked to mine then immediately darted away as a faint blush coloured her cheeks. She shifted lightly on her feet, her fingers brushing the fabric of her skirt as though searching for something to hold.

It was only then that I noticed the two maids standing at her side, their expressions unmistakably disapproving. Their gazes bore into me, silently scolding me for being found asleep at such a crucial moment, for failing to uphold the decorum of a noble.

I straightened in my seat, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Hello," I said with a casual wave of my hand.

The two maids flanking her stiffened immediately, their expressions darkening into deep frowns as if my gesture alone had been a breach of sacred decorum. The girl herself startled, her hands twitching as her eyes flicked to mine in a brief panic. After a heartbeat, she dipped into a light curtsy, the movement graceful yet hurried.

"Greetings, Lord Alash," she said softly, her voice like the chime of a small bell. "My name is Penelope Declare. I thank you for welcoming me into your estate."

Her words held the poise of noble manners, but I could see the tremor in her fingers as she rose, and the faint flush that lingered on her cheeks betrayed her nervousness.

"You have a beautiful name, Lady Penelope. Please, have a seat." I gestured toward the chair across from me, inviting her to sit.

She hesitated for a brief moment, her delicate hands hovering slightly above her skirt as though bracing herself. Then, with a graceful motion, she approached the chair and lowered herself onto it, her posture straight and elegant. The faint blush on her cheeks lingered, and her eyes flicked to mine before darting away again.

The two maids at her side remained standing, their stern expressions softening only a fraction as they watched her settle into the seat I had offered.

I looked at the girl in front of me, and suddenly a realization struck, how do you even talk to a 10-year-old girl? Does she even know what an engagement is?

’A little help, system’ I thought internally.

[Don’t ask me. I don’t have enough data since you always avoid your step-siblings]

Seeing the system’s incompetence, I decided the simplest approach was to be direct.

"Do you know what being engaged means?" I asked, my voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

Penelope blinked, her small hands tightening slightly around the edges of her skirt. Her wide violet eyes met mine for only a moment before shying away again, and I could see the faintest flicker of confusion cross her face.

"Father said it means we will get married someday and it’s good for... alliances. Do you know what that means?"

I paused for a moment, tilting my head slightly as I thought about her words. "Yeah... I know a little," I said finally, keeping my tone gentle so she wouldn’t feel pressured. "It means that one day, we will live together. And the alliance part... well, it’s something our families do to help each other. Like... making sure we’re friends who can rely on one another."

I glanced at her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. "But honestly, I think it just means we’ll be spending more time together and getting to know each other better." I offered a small smile, hoping to ease the nervousness in her eyes.

"That sounds nicer than how Father explained it. I guess we’re friends now?"

"Yes, friends first. Then... whatever our parents want later."