Reincarnated In A Women Dominated World

The faint chirping of birds drifted in from the courtyard window.

Julian stirred as the first rays of morning light crept across the stone floor of his modest room. The events of the night before felt like a dream, yet the soreness in his limbs—and the faint red marks on his wrists—were a firm reminder that it had all been very, very real.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, then sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

A chime.

Familiar. Mechanical. Crisp.

The system's interface blinked into view, floating just in front of him in pale blue lettering.

[Daily Quest Available]

[Basic Servant Duties – Day 2]

[Objectives:

1.Clean the East Wing Hall

Assist Evelyn's elder daughter with storage ledger updates Deliver a sealed letter from Isabella to the town courier]

[Reward: +500 Coins]

[Penalty: -500 Coins]

Julian stared at the new quest, letting out a breath through his nose. No surprises there—the system was consistent, at least. But this time, there was a subtle twist.

A letter from Isabella?

His eyes lingered on that line a little longer.

Was it a test? A message? Or just… logistics?

No. With her, it was never just logistics.

He dismissed the interface with a flick of his hand, then stretched. His muscles protested slightly, but not painfully. In a way, he felt more grounded today, like something inside him had clicked into place.

He dressed efficiently in his servant's uniform, the fabric still a bit stiff from drying overnight. The collar sat neatly against his neck, and he took a moment to make sure the cuffs were buttoned. Appearance mattered, especially in a household like this, where impressions could be currency.

As he fastened the last button, he caught sight of himself in the small mirror beside the wardrobe.

His eyes looked… sharper.

His posture more confident.

Something in him had changed. Not physically—though the recent workouts and the system-enhanced stamina were helping—but mentally. He was starting to carry himself differently.

He wasn't just reacting anymore.

He was planning.

The first task—the East Wing—was standard. He grabbed the cleaning supplies from the storage closet at the end of the hall and made his way toward the section of the mansion that saw little foot traffic unless guests were visiting.

The East Wing was quiet. Polished wood floors stretched beneath grand arched windows, and a series of oil paintings lined the walls—generations of women from the Averill family, each with the same cold confidence in their painted eyes.

He worked quickly but thoroughly, wiping surfaces, dusting corners, straightening tapestries.

It was mundane work, but it gave him time to think.

When the last corner was swept and polished to a shine, the system chimed softly again:

[Task 1 Completed: Clean The East Wing Hall.]

[+167 Coins Awarded.]

***

Julian set the broom aside, the scent of lemon oil still clinging to his hands as he made his way toward the storeroom where the family's ledgers were kept.

The second task involved Celeste, Evelyn's elder daughter. He hadn't interacted with her much. She was sharp-eyed, calculating, and quiet in a way that felt purposeful.

As he entered the records room, he found her already there—standing tall beside a waist-high table, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the delicate veins along her forearms, a thick ledger open in front of her.

"You took your time," she said without turning.

Julian said nothing, stepping forward to meet her side at the table.

"Column D and F," she continued, flipping another page. "Storage numbers don't match what we received last week. Fix them."

He nodded, pulling over a stool and taking up a quill.

Minutes passed in silence, filled only by the scratching of pen on paper and the occasional sound of parchment flipping.

Then Celeste broke it—with a casual, almost disinterested tone.

"You must've had a long night."

Julian's hand paused for the briefest moment before continuing.

"I always do," he replied coolly.

She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Mm. But last night… was different."

He didn't look at her, but he felt her gaze now, sharp as a dagger's edge.

"You know," she went on, "this mansion is old. The walls are thick… but the air ducts in the East Wing carry sound quite well."

Julian dipped the quill back into the inkpot, unhurried.

"I'll keep that in mind next time," he said, voice even.

"Will you?" she murmured, stepping slightly closer. "Because next time, I may not be the only one listening."

There was a hint of something in her tone. Not exactly jealousy. Not exactly a warning. Curiosity, perhaps—laced with something else. Caution. Calculation. Amusement.

Julian finished correcting the last figure and closed the ledger with care.

"I assume you won't be telling your mother."

Celeste tilted her head, the corner of her lips twitching.

"What would be the point? Isabella does what she wants. Always has."

She leaned in a little, just enough for Julian to catch the faint scent of her perfume—lavender and something colder beneath.

"But you?" she whispered. "You're either very bold… or very foolish."

Julian met her gaze then—calm, steady.

"Maybe both."

A pause.

Then she stepped back and took the ledger from his hands.

"You're done," she said simply, her cool mask slipping back into place.

[Task 2 Completed: Assist Celeste with Storage Ledger Updates.]

[+167 Coins Awarded.]

He turned to leave, but she called out just before he crossed the threshold.

"Oh, and Julian…"

He glanced back.

She was flipping through the ledger again, not even looking at him.

"Next time… try to keep it down."

Julian lingered for a few moments, nodded, and simply walked away without looking back.