The SSS-rank Guide Doesn't Need Saving

Dinner was called earlier than usual that evening.

Aisha walked down the grand staircase. She was still groggy after sleeping the entire afternoon, rubbing her eyes and yawning. However, when she finally set foot at the bottom of the staircase, her expression returned to her normal, emotionless state.

When she entered the dining hall, she noticed something different right away. There was one more chair filled at the table.

A man sat there, tall, with the same dark hair as their mother and a face that held none of the softness Irene or Theon had. He wore a merchant’s traveling coat, the kind made for long voyages between star systems, still dusty at the collar like he’d come straight from a ship.

It was Zenick Novalis, her older brother.

Aisha’s memory supplied the information without her needing to dig for it. Zenick wasn’t a guide or sentinel, same as their parents. But unlike Dominic, who mostly sat behind a desk counting profits and barking orders, Zenick had made his own name in the trading business, chasing routes through planets most merchants avoided. He came home maybe once every three or five years, stayed a few weeks, then left again.

According to the fragments Aisha had, he was the only person in this house the original Aisha had ever been close to. Even after she awakened as a D-rank and everyone else began treating her like a stain on the family name, Zenick never changed how he spoke to her.

And yet it was Aisha Novalis who had grown cold to him. She started ignoring his calls and left his messages unread for months at a time.

Aisha remembered something else too. In all the time she’d spent in the hospital, abandoned by everyone in this house, there had been exactly one person who kept sending her messages.

It was him.

But because she had no idea how to deal with him and Aisha had just arrived into this world, she hadn’t opened a single one.

The moment she stepped through the doorway, the room went quiet.

"Where have you been hiding?" Dominic asked, not looking up from his plate. "You haven’t shown your face at a single meal since you came back to school"

Aisha thought about answering honestly — that the food here tasted like boiled cardboard and eating with this family did more to kill her appetite than anything else. But she kept that thought to herself and said nothing.

Theon scoffed from his seat, eyes fixed on his own food. "She’s probably been hiding out of shame. Her engagement fell apart, what did she expect? Everyone in the academy already knows."

The table fell silent again.

Theon didn’t seem to care about the sudden change in the air He kept going. "I knew this was going to end like this. She never had anything close to matching the prince’s status. What did she think, that love alone would keep her tied to a future emperor? She, a D-rank? Ha!"

Irene set her fork down gently, her voice soft with concern. "Theon, you can’t say that. Sister finally came down to eat with us. Why would you—"

She stopped there, biting her lip, as if she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, worried it might wound Aisha further.

Erika nodded approvingly at her youngest daughter’s thoughtfulness and shot Theon a look. "Watch your mouth at the table."

Theon muttered something under his breath and went back to eating.

That was when a small sound came from the end of the table. Someone had set down their utensils.

Everyone turned.

It was Zenick. He hadn’t spoken a word since Aisha entered, but now he looked up, his gaze passing over Theon with enough disapproval of his manners

"We don’t discuss things like this over food," he said.

But Theon, who had been running his mouth freely moments ago, closed it immediately. Even Dominic, who usually made a point of asserting his authority whenever anyone else tried to take charge at his own table, said nothing.

"Aisha," Dominic said after a moment, gesturing at the table. "Sit and eat."

Aisha scanned the seats. There was only one unoccupied chair left.

Coincidentally, it sat right beside where Zenick was sitting.

She walked over and sat without a word. A servant appeared and filled her plate with the same pale, nutrient-dense slop the rest of the family was eating. Aisha looked at it for exactly one second before deciding not to touch it. She also noticed some changes on the dishes on top of the table. There was more food that came from the Outerworlders.

If she hadn’t tasted the real food from the monster meat she bought from the Association and cooked herself, she might even be interested in partaking in the feast before her.

But now that she had, she was no longer interested.

Another servant approached with a pitcher, about to pour a sweet fruit juice into her glass. Aisha had actually been looking forward to that — it was the same tea she had drunk from before.

But before the liquid touched the glass, Zenick raised a hand.

"Change it," he said. "She doesn’t like anything too sweet."

The servant froze mid-pour, glanced at Aisha, then at Zenick, and quietly withdrew.

Aisha was momentarily lost for words.

This was the first time she’d actually interacted with this brother since transmigrating. She had Aisha Novalis’s memories telling her he was kind, that he cared for her more than anyone else in this family combined. But knowing that and actually sitting beside him, being spoken for without being asked, felt strange. She didn’t even know how to react.

The servant returned a moment later with a different pitcher and poured a deep blue liquid into her glass instead.

"Drink it," Zenick said, without looking at her. "It’s your favorite. If you want more, just tell the servants to bring it."

Aisha stared at the glass, unconvinced despite her blank expression. She tried to search her borrowed memories for any recollection of this so-called favorite drink, but nothing surfaced clearly.

And before she could find anything useful, Zenick’s gaze landed on her, waiting as if he was seeking her approval.

She hesitated a few seconds, finally relenting under his eager eyes.

The moment the liquid hit her tongue, she understood immediately.

The taste was sharp and sour in a way that made her jaw want to lock up, with an aftertaste so briny it was almost unpleasant. Whatever juice this came from, it clearly hadn’t been bred for sweetness.

This was what he used to make his little sister drink?

Aisha glanced sideways at Zenick, trying to read something from his expression. If she hadn’t known from the memories how much he genuinely cared for his sister, she might have mistaken him for just another sociopathic member of this household.

"Is it good?" Zenick asked her.

His face was as flat and unreadable as her own. But there was something in the way he looked at her that made her unable to tell him the truth.

The way he looked like he was hoping to be praised...

Aisha swallowed the last of what she’d been about to spit out.

"Yes," she forced out. "It tastes good."

"Hm." Zenick turned back to his plate, apparently satisfied, and said nothing further for the rest of the meal.

***

Dinner eventually ended, and Aisha was called into the living room to discuss the annulment ceremony.

Erika sat across from her, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Should I find you an etiquette tutor before the ceremony? I don’t want you embarrassing this family in front of half the empire."

Aisha considered it for a moment, then shook her head.

She wasn’t the real Aisha Novalis, but this body still carried enough of her training, and the memories, however fragmented, still surfaced when needed. Besides, she had no intention of playing nice with the nobles or royal family who’d be watching that day. Whatever impression she left, it wouldn’t be the polished, demure image they expected.

Dominic cleared his throat. "Do you need someone to write you a speech? Something appropriate, so you don’t say anything foolish in front of everyone?"

Hearing this, Aisha felt something colder than annoyance settle in her chest. Her own parents, worried more about the optics of a public ceremony than about her, their daughter, standing there to be humiliated in front of the entire court.

Not once had either of them asked if she was alright.

While she sat there turning the thought over, Irene’s soft voice cut through the room.

"By the way, sister," Irene said, tilting her head with an innocent expression, "is it true you took money from His Highness?"

Aisha’s eyes went cold.

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