Reincarnated In A Women Dominated World

The town courier's station sat on the edge of the estate grounds, a modest brick building framed by ivy and the faint scent of horses. But Julian wasn't there yet. The letter hadn't even left Isabella's hand.

He stood outside her office, hesitating just a moment before knocking.

"Enter," came her voice—smooth, composed, and unhurried.

Julian stepped inside.

Evening light streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the dark wood floor. Isabella sat behind her desk, dressed impeccably in a slate-gray dress that clung to her form with elegant precision. Her hair was pinned up today, revealing the graceful line of her neck.

She looked up, a small smile curling at the corner of her lips.

"Good morning, Julian," she said, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them.

"Good morning, Lady Isabella."

Without standing, she reached into a drawer and retrieved a small envelope—ivory parchment sealed with deep crimson wax. No insignia. No name. Only a faint, almost imperceptible symbol pressed into the wax: a circle split into thirds by clean, deliberate lines.

She held it between two fingers, regarding it for a moment before offering it to him.

"Deliver this to the town courier," she said. "Personally. No one else is to handle it."

Julian took the letter carefully. The wax was smooth, almost glass-like under his thumb.

"Is there a response I should wait for?"

Isabella smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "No. The message will be enough."

There was a pause. Her gaze lingered on him longer than necessary.

Then, casually, she added, "And Julian… do be careful with it."

"Of course."

As he turned to leave, she called out, "Ah, one more thing."

He stopped.

"If anyone asks… you're delivering fabric samples to the merchant's guild. Not a letter."

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Understood."

She waved him off, already returning to her desk as if none of this mattered.

But Julian could feel it. The weight of the letter in his palm. The vague, gnawing sense that this was more than a simple delivery.

The hallway outside Isabella's office was quieter than usual. Most of the estate staff were winding down their duties for the day, and the golden hue of the setting sun spilled through the arched windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor.

Julian moved with steady purpose, the sealed envelope tucked safely within an inner pocket of his uniform jacket. He didn't clutch it tightly—there was no need to draw attention—but the tension in his shoulders remained. Not from fear, but awareness. The way Isabella had spoken, the way her gaze lingered just a beat too long… It wasn't the letter that concerned him.

It was what came after.

He passed through the manor gates with a nod to the stationed guards and began the short walk toward the courier's station. The path curved along the edge of the estate gardens, and beyond them, the estate's stone boundary walls gave way to a dirt road flanked by mossy trees and low fences. Evening birds chirped from the branches above, their melodies oddly at odds with the weight in Julian's chest.

Despite the peaceful scene, he remained alert.

A servant, even one on an errand, didn't usually walk this route alone. Especially not with a letter that required secrecy.

The courier station came into view soon enough, a squat building, simple but well-maintained. A hitching post lined the front with two resting horses, and the faint scent of parchment and leather mixed with the ever-present aroma of the stables nearby.

Julian stepped inside.

A bell above the door gave a soft chime, and the man behind the front desk looked up. He was older, with a grizzled beard and a sharp eye, dressed in a dark courier uniform that bore the crest of the city's trade division.

"Delivery?" the man asked, raising a brow as he leaned forward.

Julian reached into his coat and retrieved the envelope. "From Lady Isabella of the Averill estate. It must be delivered directly to its intended recipient."

The courier's eyes narrowed slightly as he took the letter, examining the seal but not breaking it. When his gaze flicked back up to Julian, there was a hint of recognition—or was it caution?

"This'll be sent to Vareen," the courier said after a beat. "By fast horse. Direct line to the city administrator's branch."

Julian said nothing, only nodded.

The man slipped the letter into a reinforced pouch, then sealed it shut with a metallic clasp marked for priority.

"You got a return message to wait on?"

"No," Julian replied. "Just the delivery."

The courier gave a grunt and a nod. "Then you're done here."

Julian turned to leave, but paused at the door.

Vareen.

He hadn't heard that name mentioned in the manor before. It was a trade hub, several days' ride northeast. Known for commerce, politics… and a growing undercurrent of instability.

Something about this didn't sit right. But he wouldn't pry. He couldn't afford to.

Still, the seal on that letter lingered in his mind. A circle split into thirds. It wasn't any house crest he recognized, nor a guild mark. Deliberate… yet anonymous.

He stepped back out into the fading light.

The breeze had cooled. Crickets had started their evening songs. He exhaled slowly, letting his body relax as he began the walk back toward the estate.

[Task 3 Completed: Deliver Isabella's Letter to the Courier.]

[+166 Coins Awarded.]

[Daily Quest Complete: Basic Servant Duties – Day 2.]

[+500 Coins Received.]

The familiar chime of the system felt almost out of place here in the open, under the orange sky.

Julian dismissed the interface with a subtle motion and quickened his pace slightly.

Back to the estate.