Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Chapter 76: Mermaid (1)

Mermaid 

1

If Melissa had to choose a moment everything shifted, it was this one.

Not when she first met Lionel. Not when he casually invited her to his table, pulling her into conversations with the confidence of someone who never knew what being unwanted felt like. Not even when he first called her friend.

It was the night he almost died.

Lionel was three years older. Basketball captain. The kind of charisma that made even teachers laugh at his jokes. Despite coming from a modest background, he fit anywhere; like the world had been designed with him in mind.

Melissa didn't fit anywhere.

At fifteen, she was already preparing for medical school. Not out of passion. Not out of choice. But because a Le Bleu did not waste talent. A Le Bleu did not take reckless risks.

No running missions. No danger. No distractions.

Her path had been set before she was even born. They called it freedom.

All it had ever done was isolate her.

Until Lionel.

He was the first to see her. Not as the weird, too-smart, too-aloof kid that teachers admired and peers avoided.

Just Melissa.

And now, she spent holidays at his house because, once again, her parents were off at some international conference. Even the book she held in her hands had been written by them.

Melissa was flipping through its pages when the door creaked open.

“Mel! You’re here!”

She barely had time to react before something small and fast launched at her like a human projectile.

Oof.

“Red—!” Pain shot through her ribs as an overexcited eight-year-old nearly tackled her off the daybed. “Ow. That’s it. Rib’s broken. I hope you’re happy.”

Natalia, all bright crimson eyes and untamed energy, just grinned at her like she hadn’t nearly knocked the air out of her lungs. She scrambled up onto the bed, peeking over Melissa’s shoulder at the open anatomy book.

Her grin stretched wider. “I heard you can fix a broken rib, right, right, sis?”

Melissa sighed, adjusting her glasses. “My parents can. It's complicated. Takes a lot of skill. Not something a fifteen-year-old can just—“ She flipped a page pointedly.”—do. Apparently.”

And before Melissa could react, Natalia flopped right onto her lap.

And stayed there.

Like she owned it. 

Like Melissa was some kind of human chair.

Ugh. Children.

Melissa groaned but didn’t push her off. Instead, she repositioned her book, absently wrapping an arm around the little girl.

Then she frowned.

The girl’s temperature. Too warm. Not like a fever, but a slow, unnatural heat.

Melissa flinched. Something was wrong.

“But brother says you’re a genius.” Natalia tilted her head back, looking at her upside down.

Melissa’s lips twitched. “That’s because Lionel is an idiot who thinks anyone smarter than him is a genius by default.”

“That's why I always wanted a cool, smart big sister." Natalia giggled. "Can you braid my hair?”

Melissa blinked. “…No? That requires skill.” She ran a hand through her own waves—short, messy, perpetually untamed.

Natalia gasped. “What? But you can control water!”

“Yes, and?” Melissa huffed. “Water is liquid, fluid. Hair is messy, and annoying.”

Natalia shook her head. “I think your hair’s pretty.” She crawled behind Melissa before she could protest, tiny fingers weaving through the strands. “If it were longer, you’d look like a mermaid.”

A dreamy sigh. “I wanna be like you when I grow up. Everyone likes you. Big bro definitely likes you.”

Melissa definitely wasn’t blushing. “Lionel? Please. I have standards.”

“Eh? Then who do mermaids like?”

“I don’t know, sailors? Oceanographers?”

Natalia fumbled over the word. “Ocea…eh?” Then she shook her head. “But you are pretty. And Gifted. You can do anything. Lionel always says that.”

She couldn’t.

Melissa opened her mouth, then closed it. She left Lionel’s house that afternoon with the heat of Natalia’s small hands still clinging to her skin.

Kids are always overheating, she thought, and pushed it aside. Didn’t care enough to dwell on it.

Not until Natalia’s Gifted power erupted that night.

Not until Lionel almost died in that fire.

Hospitals had a way of making the world feel smaller.

Melissa had spent enough time in them with her parents to know they all looked the same. No matter how much antiseptic they used, it never could scrub away the feeling of despair. Of death.

She hated hospitals. She never wanted to work in one.

Lionel lay in the bed, still as death. Shattered ribs. Charred skin. His body broken beyond what his own Gifted power could repair. His family couldn't afford a Gifted healer. The doctors had done what they could.

Natalia stood beside her, not crying.

That was the terrifying part.

Melissa had seen Natalia throw a fit over burnt toast. Had seen her wail over scraped knees, had watched her burst into laughter so strong it sent her toppling off Lionel’s back. She was a vibrant force of nature.

Now, she was silent. She pressed against Melissa's side, fingers twisted into the fabric of her coat. Those dimmed crimson eyes weren’t sad. They were empty, as if she was still trying to convince herself this wasn’t real.

Melissa knelt, gently prying Natalia's fingers from her coat. "He'll be alright, little sis."

Natalia barely blinked. "Will he live?"

Melissa hesitated.

She didn’t understand emotions the way she understood anatomy. She could break down the human body into equations and nerve endings. She could fix it.

But this wasn’t about equations. She couldn’t—

If Lionel died—

Melissa took a deep breath, her eyes burning. “He’ll be okay, Re—Natalia.”

He would be alright. And she would make sure of it.

When the doctors left, Melissa stayed.

She pressed cool fingers to Lionel’s temple and let her magic flow. Water magic was a delicate thing: fluid, precise, more art than brute force. Not like fire that burned through obstacles or earth that overwhelmed with raw power.

Water required control.

Her parents had always told her she wasn’t ready. That healing required more than intelligence. That she lacked the discipline, the patience, the experience.

But if she did nothing, Lionel would lose his legs.

She turned her head, glancing at Natalia, small and still in the corner.

Expression hollow.

Melissa hated that look.

She inhaled sharply, magic shimmering at her fingertips, swirling like liquid stardust. Her father’s words from his books rushed back, layered over memories of watching him work, of sitting through his lectures, absorbing techniques she was never meant to use. Yet.

She had to remember. 

She had to get this right.

First, temperature. Heat fed bacteria. She drew it away, cooling the burns just enough to slow the spread.

Next, circulation. Blood pooled where it shouldn’t, swelling already fractured limbs. She redirected fluids, reducing Lionel’s inflammation without cutting off oxygen supply.

Then, the bones.

She traced each fragment through the water in his body, then wrapped them in a cast of liquid, holding them steady. His Gifted healing would take over soon, but only if everything aligned perfectly. Carefully, she stimulated osteoblast activity, accelerating bone regeneration by drawing calcium and minerals from surrounding tissue fluid.

Slow. Precise. Controlled.

Every adjustment required full focus. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she monitored the microscopic shifts—fractures knitting, cellular bonds reforming. Not perfect. Not instant. But enough.

She could feel her mana flickering, unstable. She couldn’t quite channel it efficiently. But then—

Lionel’s toes twitched.

Melissa’s breath caught. Behind her, Natalia gripped her wrist.

“Did you—?” Her voice wavered.

Melissa curled her trembling hands into fist. “I hope so.”

As night fell, Melissa and Natalia made their way out of the hospital.

Hushed footsteps echoed down the corridor, halting them in their tracks.

Two men in dark suits.

Melissa barely had time to sense their presence before nearly colliding with them. Gifted. Obviously. Their auras pulsed with restrained power. Her gaze flicked to the Secret Service insignia on their lapels.

Her stomach sank. What were they doing here, in a local hospital? Were they after Natalia?

Sensing her tension, Natalia’s hand slipped into hers. Melissa tightened her grip, a spark of magic flaring in her empty hand. Reflexive. Just in case.

But the men didn’t even slow down, brushing past them and vanishing further down the hall.

Melissa exhaled slowly, willing her magic to settle.

“Can I stay with you, Mel?” Natalia whispered.

Melissa looked down. Crimson eyes, so much dimmer than usual, searched her face.

Natalia’s parents were away, working in a mining facility halfway across the country. And now, her brother wasn’t here with her.

Just Melissa.

She forced a smile, patting Natalia’s head. “Of course you can. Your parents will return tomorrow.”

She didn’t know if Lionel would wake up whole. She’d have to monitor him daily, adjust fluid balance, prevent infection, and ensure proper ossification.

She didn’t know if she’d done enough.

But for now, that would have to be enough.

Lionel survived. But he was never the same.

The limp stayed for years, a constant reminder of what she hadn’t been able to fix. Melissa tried not to dwell on it, but a quiet voice whispered in her mind:

What if?

So she drowned herself in books. In research. In the cold, clinical logic of medicine. Because science didn’t make her feel like she was the failure.

It made him the anomaly. 

It made the world the problem. 

It let her pretend she had never been powerless.

Her parents had been right.

She wasn’t enough.

She and Lionel drifted. It wasn’t intentional, not at first. A missed call. A delayed reply. Conversations cut short, until reaching out felt like trying to hold sand in her hands.

Then one day, he was just gone.

Melissa didn’t chase after him. Maybe she should have. But prodigies didn’t have time for childhood. They moved too fast, leaping from concepts to conclusions before they had time to enjoy the in-between.

While other kids were learning how to ride bikes, she was memorising cellular structures. While they played outside, she sat through lectures, absorbing knowledge meant for people much older.

There was no room for scraped knees or childhood crushes or burnt toast tantrums. No room for Natalia’s laughter. No room for Lionel’s stupid, reckless grin.

Childhood?

Melissa let out a quiet laugh. Silly thought. She was twenty now. She had built connections of her own. But not like before.

Not like childhood, when connection meant trust rather than networking. 

Not like friendship, where nothing was calculated and everything just was.

She had learned how to be valuable. That was the first step, wasn’t it? The key to survival?

Be useful. Be competent. Be wanted. Be attractive, even.

Scientifically speaking…

Her fingers drifted down her azure hair. It was longer, softer. Yet, she still couldn’t braid it.

A stupid thing. A childish thing. But as the realisation settled, tears pricked at her eyes.

Natalia had been right.

She was a mermaid.

Not quite human, not quite sea creature. Trapped between two worlds, skimming the surface but never sinking deep enough to belong. Always moving forward, never slowing down.

But once, she had stopped. Once, she had been pulled onto the shore, laughing, alive, surrounded by people who didn’t care about her intellect. And only that she was there.

Yet, she had let it slip through her fingers.

She had told herself she belonged somewhere.

*

But the people she had belonged to were gone.