Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution

​The cobblestone streets of Iron Hearth began to empty as Raphael and Elodie walked away from the gates of Seruni Academy.

​The late afternoon sun hung low in the western horizon, painting the northern sky in breathtaking gradients of purplish-orange. A gentle breeze blew, tossing the ends of Elodie’s hair and carrying the city’s distinct scent—a blend of cold earth, pine, and the faint smoke from distant factory chimneys.

​They had been walking side-by-side for about ten minutes when Raphael finally broke the comfortable silence.

​”Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to stop by my place first?”

​Elodie let out a long sigh. Haaah. ”Raphael...”

​”I’m serious, El. The castle chefs can whip up something infinitely better than our school cafeteria,” Raphael coaxed gently, glancing at the girl beside him. ”Warm beef rendang, steaming white rice, fresh tamarind soup, shrimp paste sambal, and freshly fried prawn crackers...”

​Raphael fought back a smile. ”You must be starving after getting drained in Applied Magic class earlier. I can hear it from the way you’re holding your stomach.”

​Elodie reflexively snatched her hands away from her stomach as if she’d just been stung by a bee. A faint blush immediately crept across her cheeks. ”I-I am not—”

​Grumble...

​A tiny protest from Elodie’s stomach utterly betrayed her words.

​Raphael chuckled softly. ”And you don’t need to worry about... anything, Elodie. My mother will absolutely adore you. I guarantee it.”

​Elodie turned to look at the youngest prince’s relaxed face with an expression hovering between disbelief and slight amusement. ”You’re awfully confident, daring to bring a girl home without giving your mother a heads-up first.”

​”That’s exactly why. My mother has always loved the element of surprise.” Raphael shoved both hands into his uniform pockets. ”Besides, you’re not just any guest. You’re Elodie.”

​Elodie snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. Pfft. The corners of her lips finally surrendered, curving upward. ”Alright, fine. But if the atmosphere gets too uncomfortable, I’m heading straight home.”

​”Of course.”

​Before long, a colossal shadow eclipsed their path. The main gates of the Iron Hearth Castle loomed arrogantly before them.

​Elodie’s footsteps halted instantly. She tilted her head back stiffly, staring in sheer awe at the giant, roaring Wolf carving perched atop the black stone archway. Her eyes moved slowly, scanning the watchtowers that pierced the sky, the rows of stained-glass windows refracting the amber light, and the Northreach flags fluttering proudly along the fortress walls.

​Gulp. Elodie swallowed hard.

​”This is... way, way more massive than I ever imagined from the outside,” she muttered in pure wonder.

​”That’s the sentence everyone always says their first time here,” Raphael replied, having already walked a few paces ahead. ”Come on. The food is waiting.”

​They had just stepped through the gates when a young servant hurried out from the left-wing corridor. He looked barely twenty, his brown hair combed slickly back, his gray uniform still looking stiff—a sign he was a recent hire.

​The moment his eyes caught sight of Raphael, the servant stopped dead in his tracks and bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle.

​”Good evening, Young Lord Raphael.”

​Then, the servant’s eyes shifted to the remarkably ordinary girl standing beside his master. A flash of confusion and curiosity flickered in the young man’s eyes—just for a fraction of a second—before he lowered his head politely once more. ”Good evening to you too, My Lady. Welcome to the Iron Hearth Castle.”

​Elodie opened her mouth in a panic. ”E-Eh? I-I’m...”

​She shot a rapid glance at Raphael, her eyes bulging to send a frantic SOS signal. Was she supposed to call Raphael ’Prince’ here? ’Young Lord’? Or just call him by his name like at school? But wouldn’t that be incredibly rude in front of a servant?!

​However, Raphael merely raised a single eyebrow casually. Waiting. He had absolutely zero intention of rescuing her from the awkwardness.

​”Lady... Elodie,” Elodie finally answered quietly, her voice shrinking to a mouse’s squeak. ”Just call me Elodie, Mr. Servant. I’m not... well, I’m not of noble descent or anything.”

​The young servant offered a warm smile and nodded. ”Understood, Lady Elodie. Is there anything I can assist the two of you with?”

​”No need. We’re heading straight inside,” Raphael cut in, resuming his stride. Elodie hurriedly trailed after him, sticking close to his back, her face still burning a ripe tomato red.

​They walked through the castle’s inner courtyards. And it was here that Elodie began to notice a glaring anomaly.

​Dozens of Northreach soldiers in dark blue uniforms were hurrying about in a half-sprint. Clack! Clack! Clack! The heavy thud of their military boots echoed endlessly across the stone floors. Several officers ran by clutching thick rolls of parchment, while logistics soldiers hoisted wooden crates branded with emergency red wax seals.

​Raphael took in the sight with a deeply furrowed brow. He didn’t stop anyone to ask questions. Not yet.

​They continued through a roofed corridor, eventually stepping out into a cool inner garden surrounded by natural stone pillars. In the center of the garden sat a sharp-featured young woman, her black hair tied up in a practical bun. Rumina.

​There were no towering stacks of tax ledgers or logistics reports this afternoon. The woman was simply leaning back, slowly sipping a cup of chamomile tea that released thin wisps of steam over a round stone table. Sip...

​”Wow, this is an incredibly rare sight,” Raphael greeted from a distance. ”Is my dear sister actually out of work for once?”

​Rumina looked up from her cup. The Head Treasurer of Northreach instantly locked eyes with the peasant girl standing awkwardly behind her little brother’s back.

​”I need breaks too, Raphael. Being Head Treasurer doesn’t mean I have to work until I drop,” Rumina replied flatly.

​Swoosh. Rumina’s sharp eyes then swept over Elodie’s posture, from the top of her hair down to the tips of her scuffed leather shoes. It didn’t take long. Just about two seconds.

​But that brief duration was more than enough to make Elodie break into a cold sweat, feeling as if she had just been thoroughly audited by a royal tax collector.

​”I’m looking for Mother,” Raphael said, cutting through the awkwardness. ”Do you know where she is?”

​”In her private sitting room. As usual.” Rumina took another sip of her tea.

​But right as Raphael turned to leave, his sister’s voice drifted over again—this time lowered, heavily laden with an adorably jealous grumble. ”Tch. Even the youngest is bringing a date home now. Meanwhile, I’m still single.”

​Raphael kept walking forward, suddenly pretending to be completely deaf. On the other hand, Elodie lowered her head deeply, hiding cheeks that had now officially reached the shade of a boiled tomato.

​The Queen’s private sitting room felt extraordinarily cozy and comforting.

​Near a large glass window directly overlooking the flower garden sat Aurelia. She leaned back in her favorite rocking chair—one lined with plush red velvet cushions.

​Her slender fingers danced busily, knitting two long needles with a roll of cream-colored yarn. Inside a woven rattan basket near her feet rested several other spools of yarn—maroon, gray, and deep navy blue.

​Aurelia looked up the moment she heard the creak of the door. Click. Her motherly smile immediately bloomed with warmth.

​”Raphael! My boy is finally home,” she greeted cheerfully. Then, her gray eyes shifted to the girl trailing stiffly behind her son. ”Oh... and it seems you’ve brought a beautiful guest today.”

​Raphael strolled in casually. ”Mother, this is Elodie. My friend. We’re in the same class.”

​Elodie hastily bowed, bending her back as stiffly as an ironing board out of pure nervousness. ”G-Good evening, Y-Your Majesty...”

​Clack. Aurelia placed her knitting needles on her lap. Her eyes instantly sparkled—not with the fake, formal gleam of a noble forced to welcome a commoner, but with the enthusiastic glimmer of a mother who had just caught her youngest son hiding something incredibly interesting.

​”Oh... so you are the Elodie I’ve heard about.”

​The elegant woman’s tone abruptly shifted. Warmer. More vibrant. Exactly like the tone of someone who had just found the final piece of a puzzle she had been searching for.

​”Princess Raveena talks about you quite often when we have tea, darling,” Aurelia said with a wide smile. ”She is incredibly proud of you. She says you are the most talented student in her Applied Magic class.”

​Elodie blinked in utter confusion, her jaw dropping slightly. ”P-Princess Raveena... talks about me with you, Your Majesty?”

​”Of course. She told me how amazed she was watching you make tree roots grow wildly.” Aurelia rested her chin on her hand. ”And she also mentioned... that you always sit right next to Raphael in every single class session.”

​Raphael suddenly choked on his own saliva. Cough! Cough! ”M-Mother—”

​”Oh, please don’t misunderstand. I’m just thrilled to hear that my youngest finally has a reason to actually focus on his studies,” Aurelia interrupted, feigning innocence. She picked her woolen yarn back up, her fingers resuming their relaxed knitting rhythm. ”Before he started school, he preferred picking fights and wandering in the mud over paying attention to a blackboard. Your presence must be having a very positive influence on that thick skull of his.”

​Elodie was completely stripped of vocabulary. Her mouth clamped shut. The tips of her ears felt as hot as if they had just been roasted over hot coals.

​Realizing the situation was no longer safe for his dignity, Raphael decided it was high time to violently change the subject. ”Mother... forget about school. Why are the castle grounds so busy this afternoon? I saw soldiers running everywhere.”

​The movement of the knitting needles in Aurelia’s hands abruptly slowed. Stop.

​Aurelia resumed her work, but her wide smile slowly shrank—not disappearing completely, merely transforming into the absolute, composed serenity characteristic of the North’s sovereign matriarch.

​”Two pieces of vital news arrived today, Raphael.”

​Her knitting needles moved again. One stitch. Clack.

​”The first news... your brothers, Rianor and Roland, are coming home.”

​Raphael’s eyes widened. His posture instantly stiffened. ”The two of them... they succeeded?!”

​”They succeeded,” Aurelia answered calmly. ”A squadron of combat helicopters is being prepped on the tarmac right now to fly out and extract them.”

​It felt as though a massive boulder had just been lifted off Raphael’s chest. He let out an incredibly long, shuddering exhale of relief. Thank the gods.

​However, Aurelia wasn’t finished.

​”And as for the second piece of news...” The Queen’s knitting needles stopped moving entirely. Silence. ”...an emergency message arrived from the northwestern border. The Khanate territory.”

​Aurelia looked straight into her son’s eyes.

​”The combat forces of the Iron Empire have officially annexed and seized control of their entire northern region.”

​The sitting room was suddenly choked by a terrifying silence. No one dared to breathe.

​Aurelia resumed her knitting. Her needle movements were flawlessly stable, efficient, and calm—exactly matching the tone she had used since she first delivered the news of an intercontinental war.

​Raphael swallowed hard, then gave a slow nod, digesting the heavy geopolitical update. His eyes then shifted to Elodie—the poor girl was still standing frozen in a super-awkward posture.

​Elodie was clearly frightened out of her wits, having no idea how to respond after accidentally overhearing high-level military secrets of the ruling family.

​Raphael looked back at his mother.

​”Mother... Elodie and I will excuse ourselves to the main dining hall now. She hasn’t eaten anything since the lunch break.”

​Aurelia looked up from her woolen yarn. The corners of the middle-aged woman’s lips pulled slowly upward—not a formal smile, but a small, incredibly lethal curve. Her sharp eyes shifted to Elodie, who was looking down in embarrassment, before locking intently onto Raphael’s eyes.

​”Of course, darling,” Aurelia answered softly. ”Go on. Make our guest as comfortable as possible.”

​There wasn’t a single odd word choice in that permission.

​But... the way Aurelia said it—coupled with the mischievous, knowing glint in the Queen’s eyes—made Elodie’s instinctual radar scream in absolute panic. The peasant girl understood one hundred percent that her employer’s mother was jumping to all sorts of wild conclusions.

​Elodie opened her mouth in a panic, both hands raising to clear up this slander. No! We’re purely just school friends, Your Majesty! But her rational logic instantly sabotaged her.

​What was she supposed to explain? Denying an assumption that hadn’t even been explicitly stated would only make the situation a thousand times more embarrassing and awkward. Ultimately, Elodie snapped her mouth shut again with a face of pure resignation.

​On the other hand, Raphael completely failed to pick up on the ’motherly code’. The prince had already turned smoothly and began walking toward the outer corridor.

​”Come on, El, hurry up. Before we run out of the chef’s rendang,” Raphael called out casually, entirely devoid of guilt.