Chapter 16: A Dream
"Who's this?" Draven Faust asked, narrowing his eyes as he sized up the lavender-haired girl standing before him. She looked more blue than purple under the reflection of the ocean-blue light spilling through the Deep Blue Room.
It wasn't just Draven who was caught off guard; his wife and the Agrippas shared his surprise. The unexpected addition was puzzling, especially since Sebastian had been clear about limiting new faces during their previous meeting. Yet here she was.
Dorothy grinned and stepped forward with a flourish, twirling at Acier's bedside before resting her hands on her hips. From deep within, she bellowed, "The name's Dorothy Unsworth! Pleased to meet you, mustachio!"
That answered nothing.
As if she'd heard his thoughts, Dorothy's eyes sparkled with mischief. With a curious glance at Sebastian, she turned back to face the two couples. "I'm their dau—"
They're what? Draven's confusion only grew as she trailed off, fidgeting, as if unsure. She shot a look at Acier, as though seeking permission or maybe even a blessing.
The two couples turned to Acier, who was propped up on her bed, watching the girl with a fond smile. Finally, she looked at Draven and answered for her. "She's our daughter."
Huh? Of all the answers Draven had anticipated, this wasn't even close. Adopt a child? Had the Silvas seriously taken in an outsider? House Faust might have distanced itself from the core of noble society to conduct their experiments without scrutiny, but that didn't mean they'd lost their wits—or forgotten the rules of noble decorum. As a lineage of shadow mages well-versed in espionage, the Fausts arguably had the keenest grasp on the affairs of not just the aristocracy but the kingdom at large.
The sheer absurdity of the statement hit Draven and Lilith at once. Clover, of all four kingdoms, might well be the most unyielding in its fixation on bloodlines and noble purity. For any house, let alone one of the kingdom's three pillars, to adopt an outsider would be scandalous beyond measure. A move that brazen would surely stir up a wave of whispers if not outright hostility.
And from the hushed murmuring he could sense behind him, Draven guessed the Agrippas had come to the same conclusion.
Not that it was his problem. Draven Faust cared little for titles or aristocratic theatrics; worth, in his eyes, was measured in usefulness, not noble heritage. And no matter how virtuous the Silvas might pretend to be, he seriously doubted they'd go so far as to adopt some random, useless brat. If they'd gone out of their way to bring this girl under their wing, she had to be someone exceptional.
His eyes narrowed on Dorothy's witch hat as he pieced together the clues. If this girl had managed to slip free of the Witch Queen's surveillance and traverse a Grand Magic Zone at her age, she had to possess talents of real value.
But then again, even if she didn't, it made little difference to Draven. The alliance between the Fausts and the Silvas was strictly transactional, built on mutual need. The Silvas needed the Fausts' expertise; the Fausts needed the Silvas' wealth. As long as each party upheld their side of the bargain, they'd remain in alliance without a hitch.
Draven had no intention of jeopardizing that arrangement with petty interference. It wasn't his place to question the family affairs of another house, much less that of a royal one. He wasn't about to sour their relations by dishing out unsolicited "advice" over some kid.
So, instead, he nodded, ready to offer a token of half-hearted congratulations on the "addition" to the Silva family—when someone else spoke up first.
"Daughter-in-law."
All heads snapped to the other side of the room, where Nozel Silva stood, his usual stoic demeanor softened only by the protective way he held his sister in his arms. His voice carried a subtle, unmistakable edge, stressing the difference in title.
Draven blinked, momentarily stunned by the revelation, before Nozel added with deliberate emphasis.
"She is my fiancée."
The way he stressed that last word, his gaze sweeping the room and daring anyone to challenge him, left everyone speechless. His eyes finally settled on Dorothy, giving her a brief, almost imperceptible nod.
Draven studied the witch with renewed interest. Well, it seems I'm looking at the future Matriarch of House Silva, he mused. I'd best remember to show her a bit more courtesy. With Nozel the unanimous candidate to take over as head of the Silvas in a few years, any disrespect toward his intended could sour their arrangement. Respecting his fiancée was only good sense.
Yet, as he looked around, it dawned on him that his years buried in arcane studies and dusty books had dulled his understanding of social nuance. The temperature in the room was anything but harmonious.
Acier's eyes widened at her son's declaration. His words carried a hint of possessiveness she'd seen in too many toxic couples. She didn't know whether to chide him for his attitude, recognizing how easily it could lead to treating Dorothy like an object or to squeal in excitement. After all, her once-seemingly asexual son had finally shown an interest in a woman. Could this mean that grandchildren were possible after all?
She turned her head, ready to flash a supportive thumbs-up to Dorothy and Sebastian, thinking her son's engagement was more promising than she'd feared. Keyword, about to. The excitement drained from her as she caught sight of Dorothy's expression—a mix of cringe and barely disguised disgust as she frowned at Nozel.
Acier prayed Nozel would pick up on his misstep, knowing full well that if he didn't, she'd soon have to schedule a rather uncomfortable heart-to-heart with him about relationships. It looked like her other son, Solid, would need a change in tutors as well; if this was how they taught courtship, her boys were doomed to failure in love.
Beside her, her husband sighed and rubbed his temples, his face etched with exasperation and undisguised disappointment. This did not bode well.
It was then Acier Silva realized something vital: this engagement's success wasn't about Nozel's resolve; it was all about Dorothy's willingness. And right now, her boy had likely dug himself a pit. Where before the two might have stood on even ground, Nozel had now sunk himself somewhere far below it.
Unable to bear the awkward tension any longer, Sebastian stepped in.
"Dorothy has a unique magic," he began, "one that allows her to create a separate space where we can treat both my wife's and son's curses without alerting that devil."
A brief silence followed as the Agrippas and Fausts exchanged glances, visibly impressed. Such a feat was remarkable, if not unheard of.
"As expected of a witch," Lilith remarked, a faint trace of admiration in her voice. Witches were known for wielding esoteric magics that teetered on the edge of the supernatural, much closer to devilry than any other magic in the land. While the Clover Kingdom had seen unusual magic traits crop up over the years, mutated by constant exposure to dense mana, and giving up the protection of natural mana, the consistency and range of the witches' abilities were still unparalleled. Nearly all of them possessed powers defying logic—curses, familiars, even dimensional magic.
The group gave knowing nods, recognizing that while Dorothy's power was exceptional, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility for a witch.
All except one.
"You're a witch?" All eyes turned to Nozel, who was examining Dorothy with a new, fervent curiosity.
An awkward silence filled the room as Dorothy regarded him, slightly taken aback. "You... didn't know?" she asked, baffled.
Nozel shook his head, genuinely perplexed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Dorothy blinked in disbelief. Why would I tell you? Are we even that close? But Nozel's almost-wounded expression gave her pause, so she held back her thoughts. Instead, she pointed to her head.
"You didn't notice the hat? Or, I don't know, maybe the nature of my magic?"
Nozel looked genuinely mystified. "What's that supposed to mean? Plenty of peasants and commoners dress up and wear things like that."
Dorothy nearly snorted. When she'd first entered the Kingdom, she'd run into countless young women in the Forsaken Realm sporting similar headwear. Witches or not, it was easy to see why Nozel might not pick up on the difference.
With a resigned sigh, she tried again. "But what about my magic? That's hardly something a commoner could wield. Shouldn't that have tipped you off?"
Now Nozel was the one blinking, visibly struggling to come up with a reply. Even he seemed to recognize it was unwise to admit he'd assumed she was just another noble's illegitimate child, kept hidden somewhere. Especially not to the woman he was trying to court.
Sebastian noticed the gears turning in Nozel's head, and before he could stumble into an even bigger misstep, he placed a steadying hand on Dorothy's shoulder, drawing her attention.
As Dorothy looked up at him questioningly, Sebastian cleared his throat and provided a diplomatic explanation that, thankfully, wasn't entirely untrue. "Nozel's led a very sheltered life. He hasn't fully explored the kingdom yet and barely understands its diversity. It's only natural he might not recognize certain... clues."
"Exactly!" Acier chimed in, shaking her head with conviction as Dorothy looked back at her. Eager to save her son from further embarrassment, she added, "Nozel's never met a witch before. How could he have known, Dorothy?"
I guess that makes sense. Dorothy gave a thoughtful nod, seemingly convinced.
Meanwhile, Nozel let out an internal sigh of relief. Though it stung his pride a bit to have Sebastian Silva of all people come to his rescue, he decided he'd let it go. Just this once.
Maybe I should brush up on my courtship lessons, Nozel told himself, convincing himself that a bit of "rust" was to blame. A refresher, he thought, might be just what he needed to regain his footing.
"Alright, moving on?" Sebastian clapped his hands, his firm tone cutting through the lingering silence as he called everyone's attention. His gaze settled on Draven. "I take it you've completed Nozel's treatment?"
Draven exchanged a quick nod with Nathan Agrippa before reaching into his satchel and pulling out a well-worn parchment, covered in hurriedly scribbled notes and lined with intricate, otherworldly runes surrounding a central magic circle. Holding it up for everyone to see, he began, his voice steady and unemotional.
"The array is fully designed," he said, "and I've tested it on several magic beasts. I replicated 'her' curse, the same I analyzed on Nozel's throat, on those beasts and then layered this array over it. When I attempted to curse those beasts further, using 'her' curse as an entry point, it failed. The array successfully blocked all access while creating feedback to make it appear as though the curse had taken hold."
He paused to let the details sink in before adding, "Unless 'she' personally checks on Nozel, she'll have no idea her curse failed."
A palpable relief settled over Acier and Nozel, who both exhaled in unison, while Sebastian merely nodded with calm indifference. If a family of devil researchers and hex specialists couldn't handle something as crude as Nozel's curse, they'd better pack their things and start a farm in the Forsaken Realm, Sebastian thought wryly. Nozel's case, after all, was never the real issue. The real concern lay with Acier's curse.
"And what of Acier's?" Sebastian raised a brow, his voice shifting to a tone of genuine curiosity.
The Fausts and Agrippas exchanged glances again, but this time, there was visible hesitation, an uncharacteristic reticence to respond. After a beat, Nathan Agrippa, usually content to remain in the background, took a step forward.
"The curse 'that' devil used on Lady Acier," he began, choosing his words with unsteady precision, "is more... intricate than we initially assessed."
Unused to speaking with such force, Nathan found himself consciously summoning the volume to make himself clear.
"Explain," Sebastian commanded, his voice cool, though the intensity in his gaze betrayed his concern.
Lilith stepped forward, her gaze intense as she added her own insight. "I'd originally assumed the curse was a simple physical plague attacking Lady Acier's bloodstream. However, once we brought back the blood samples, we had Azazel examine them thoroughly, only to uncover the true, far more insidious nature of the curse."
"And that would be?" Nozel cut in, his impatience simmering beneath a calm tone.
Draven answered on behalf of his wife, his tone grave. "We discovered the curse has both a material and spiritual component. Not only is it eating away at your mother's body, but it's marking her very soul."
Acier remained composed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why go through the trouble of marking my soul? What would 'she' gain from that?"
Before anyone could speculate, Nathan interjected, "My wife and I dug through the Agrippa family archives on 'she-who-should-not-be-named' and found a possible reason."
Jonna, who had remained silent, finally spoke, her voice steady yet tinged with reluctance. "There's an ancient curse-warding ritual called Malevolent Femcantation. By cursing three powerful souls of the same sex to death, 'she' could forge a gateway to the otherworld, enabling her to fully manifest here."
Jonna's gaze lowered as she glanced at Acier, clearly reluctant to speak the next words. "Lady Acier would be an ideal first target."
The implications settled heavily in the room. Acier Silva was to be the first sacrifice.
How did I forget such a significant plot point?!
Sebastian clenched his fist, mentally berating himself. Caught up in strategizing for the curse's removal, he'd lost sight of Vanica's deeper purpose. Megicula wasn't as reckless as her host. Every action of hers had a purpose; she wouldn't have risked losing her host if there wasn't a greater benefit. It was likely Megicula herself had guided Vanica to Acier, knowing a cursed Acier would be the first step in realizing her grander scheme.
Acier's knuckles whitened as she gripped her bed sheets, her frustration barely masked. Nozel placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, pulling her and his sister closer before turning to Draven with steely resolve. "How serious is this for us?" His gaze shifted to Lilith, recalling her earlier words. "You said it was complex but not impossible to treat."
Lilith nodded, her expression calm but unyielding. "Magic and the soul are intertwined since mana itself is a spiritual force. Nearly all curses connect to a target's soul, although typically only in a minor way."
"Then what's the problem?" Nozel questioned, his brow furrowing.
Draven spoke again. "If most curses are 90% physical and 10% spiritual, your mother's curse is precisely the opposite — 90% spiritual and only 10% physical."
"We have no issue treating her blood," he continued. "Lilith's Blood Magic and Jonna's Poison Magic can channel cursed blood into Lady Acier's bloodstream and heart, effectively neutralizing the curse by canceling it out and allowing her body to stabilize."
Curing the body with a kind of alchemical "fire with fire."
"Then what's the obstacle?" Sebastian demanded.
Nathan took up the explanation. "Her soul, Lord Silva. Lady Acier's soul has been heavily marked and tainted by 'her.' To completely cure her and prevent 'her' from using that soul mark as a gateway, we'll have to directly manipulate Lady Acier's soul."
Lilith's face showed frustration for the first time. "And that's where we're at a deadlock. Souls are incredibly fragile. Any wrong move, any slight error, and we risk permanently damaging Lady Acier's spirit... leaving her a hollow shell."
Draven rubbed his temples, clearly vexed. "This isn't a typical curse where we can hypothesize freely. We'd need extensive experimentation — ideally on female subjects — to even approach this safely."
He went on, "Unless we want the kingdom's full wrath upon us, experimenting on unwilling souls isn't an option. And willing volunteers are... unlikely. Even if we found them, the ritual is exceedingly difficult to replicate. We'd need curse-warding magic of the highest order to even mimic it, let alone safely test its effects."
His gaze landed on Acier. "In other words, Lady Acier is the only person cursed with this exact type of magic, and clearly, we can't experiment on her without serious risk."
A heavy silence filled the room as reality settled in. Acier couldn't help but bite her lip in frustration, every time things looked up, something else happened to ruin it.
The silence didn't last long.
Sebastian's casual response left everyone flabbergasted. "Oh, is that all?" He blinked, seeming unfazed, while the room gaped in disbelief.
What do you mean, is that all?! Their expressions said it all, a mixture of shock and bafflement.
Sebastian's lips curled into a confident smile as he glanced down at Dorothy. "Well, Daughter, it looks like you're up."
Dorothy grinned back, her pink grimoire floating in front of her as pages flipped swiftly, stopping on a spell that didn't just bend reality but created an entirely new one.
"Dream Magic: Glamour World!" she chanted with a mischievous "teehee."
In an instant, a swirl of multi-hued mist enveloped everyone, pulling them into a strange, otherworldly domain.
What in the world? Draven Faust blinked in disbelief as he steadied himself, hovering in midair, suspended over an infinite pink void. He glanced around, his normally stoic expression betraying utter confusion as he took in the strange, floating objects dotting the space.
Jonna nodded, and with a snap, the two appeared at the clone Acier's bedside. As they prepared to cast their spells, Lilith's brow furrowed in confusion as she examined the clone more closely.
The clone watched them blankly, unreactive as they took her wrists and arms to inspect her condition.
Is she this unresponsive because her soul is incomplete? Lilith wondered.
Dorothy, reading her thoughts, shook her head. "No, that's not it. Her soul is 57% similar to Mother's, but it's still complete. Simply 57% of her soul is identical to Mother's."
Lilith raised an eyebrow, glancing at the expressionless clone. "Then why does she look so... lifeless?"
Feeling the others' questioning gazes, Dorothy spoke quietly. "That's my doing."
Acier looked at Dorothy, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "Why?" she asked gently.
Dorothy hesitated. "Because, in the end, this clone is just the first of many test subjects we'll create. She's bound to die... so I thought it kinder to take away her free will. If she doesn't react, doesn't speak, doesn't act... she's not human. Then, no one has to feel guilt, or feel anything... when she inevitably falls apart."
Silence filled the space, a weighted pause in which everyone exchanged conflicted glances. The Agrippas and Fausts shared especially troubled looks.
When she says no one... she means us, they thought, realizing her intention.
Sebastian studied Dorothy carefully, catching the deeper truth. Yes, she means them, but mostly, she means herself. He could tell Dorothy was protecting her own heart. She would be creating more clones like this one, each made to look exactly like her new mother. Depriving them of free will was her way of drawing a clear line between the clones and the real Acier.
Sebastian sighed and gently patted her on the back. "Wise choice." He nodded reassuringly, receiving a weak nod from her in return.
Lilith nodded to Jonna, then addressed the group. "We're about to begin the physical treatment."
Sebastian, a thought crossing his mind, tapped Dorothy on the shoulder. She turned, curious, as he pointed from his head to Noelle in his arms. Dorothy caught on, and with a snap, earmuffs and a blindfold appeared on Noelle, blocking her senses.
Noelle squirmed, giggling at what she probably thought was a new game of peekaboo.
Sebastian looked down at his daughter, his eyes narrowing. Noelle may not understand, but I won't risk traumatizing her by having her witness an Acier lookalike suffer. He gently pinched her cheeks, causing her to giggle. To Noelle, it was just playtime, but Sebastian had another purpose. He needed her to stay awake; in the Glamour World, falling asleep meant risking more than just a nap.
Lilith and Jonna each took hold of one of the clone's wrists, chanting their spell together: "Combination Magic: Poison Hexed Blood!"
Crimson blood flowed from Lilith into the clone's right wrist, while a maroon, poisonous gas entered the left wrist from Jonna. As the poison spread through the clone's bloodstream, it immediately clashed with Megicula's curse, each force canceling the other out and disintegrating. Lilith's blood began replacing what was lost, keeping the clone from succumbing to blood loss.
Internally, this battle raged within the clone's bloodstream, filling its arteries, veins, and capillaries until it reached the heart.
Outside, however, the scene was gruesome. The clone's dull gaze sharpened, pupils dilating as it writhed in silent agony, thrashing against Lilith's and Jonna's grip. Veins bulged and dark blood oozed from its pores. Despite its supposed lack of will, tears welled up, and its lips parted in a voiceless plea.
But Dorothy had not given it a voice—she had stripped it of that ability. That's how it was meant to be. Just as the poison reached the clone's heart, it uttered, in Acier's familiar voice, a broken plea: "P-please... m-mercy... please."
Lilith Faust was indifferent, she's seen countless die from the Devil Binding Ritual, and she's even helped slay those monsters who lost control. Jonna Agrippa was messy on the inside but gritted her teeth and continued the spell. Knowing that this was just the first test, and she'll have to get used to it.
Nathan Agrippa felt sorrow for his wife, wishing he was the one with poison magic, so he could be the one to do this.
Dorothy felt sick to her stomach, watching this, as her legs began to tremble. You're not real. You're fake! You're not supposed to cry! To speak!
She begged inwardly for the clone to stop resisting, and go back to its lifeless visage, but it wouldn't because Dorothy could no longer imagine it as anything but human, as a person.
Sebastian put a hand on her shoulder, to still her trembling.
Azazel's eyes glowed once more as he scrutinized the clone before speaking to Draven, "Master Draven, the physical likeness remains at 100% accurate. Personality and mannerisms are now at 79%, mana is 98%, the curse is replicated at 83%, and Acier Silva's soul... 65%."
Draven Faust raised his eyebrow in surprise before understanding.
Dorothy could no longer draw a clear line between the clone and Acier, so naturally her imagination stopped limiting the restraint on its free will, and the clone became more like Acier.
It's just a clone. Nozel told himself, your real mother is right here, beside you. He clenched Acier's bedside and sat down beside her.
But he couldn't remain entirely unphased. Because even if the treatment will be more perfected in the future, he couldn't stomach the thought of his mother having to go through even a minuscule amount of that pain.
There has to be a better way! A cleaner way! Nozel clenched his fist.
Meanwhile, Acier and Sebastian observed the scene with impassive expressions, their thoughts unreadable.
Finally, as the cursed blood was replaced, Lilith and Jonna released the clone. It slumped onto the bed, its face pale and drenched in bloody sweat. Slowly, its expression dulled, eyes blank and lifeless once more, like a doll.
The clone panted tiredly, its face so pale, tainted in bloody sweat, as it slumped onto the bed. Its complex expression gradually eased, as it returned to its dull lifeless look, like a doll.
"Azazel," Draven called out softly.
The black impish, goat-horned devil, spoke in its same squeaky voice. "The clone's similarity remains the same. The dull state is an act... a coping mechanism, to deal with the pain."
Dorothy Unsworth wanted to throw up.
Sighing, Sebastian placed a comforting hand on her back, channeling cool water mana to ease her nerves. Glamour World mirrored Dorothy's emotions, and he had no interest in it becoming Vomit World.
With the physical treatment complete, Dorothy snapped her fingers, swapping the Agrippa and Faust wives with their husbands. Draven and Nathan took a moment, then Draven addressed Dorothy from across the room, "Can you reveal her soul?"
Dorothy gave another dull snap, and the clone transformed, becoming translucent, a spiritual outline of its soul. The sight might've been striking—an ethereal silver-white figure—if it weren't marred by a sickly green and pitch-black tumor where its heart would be. Acier's hand instinctively moved to her chest, feeling the weight of the realization. So I have something like that inside me?
Sebastian broke the silence, his voice steady, "So how do you plan to handle that?"
Draven and Nathan exchanged a glance, and Draven replied, "We've come up with three possible options."
"And they are?" Sebastian's tone stayed calm.
Draven started, "First, we could brute force it and simply erase Megicula's curse mark on Lady Acier's soul."
Nathan elaborated, "This method has a 50-50 chance of either freeing her from the devil's hold or killing her outright if her soul can't endure the strain of the procedure."
Draven added, "Or she may survive but end up... hollow, without thoughts or agency, like an empty shell." A retard.
Not an option. "What about option two?" Sebastian continued, unperturbed.
Nathan replied, "We could replicate Nozel's treatment and inscribe an array on Lady Acier's soul that would counteract the effects of Malevolent Femcantation, sending feedback to trick Megicula into believing her curse is working as intended."
Sebastian sensed the hesitation. "But?"
Draven continued, "Though it's the safest approach initially, it's risky long-term. Malevolent Femcantation is a high-level curse, so designing an effective array will take days. Once applied, it'll constantly battle Megicula's decay, wearing down over time. We'd need regular checkups to renew the array, and one slip or lapse in focus could prove fatal."
Sebastian nodded, still pinching Noelle's cheeks as she giggled. "And option three?"
Draven looked at Nathan before speaking, "Using Agrippa's theoretical method of turning curses into power, we could reverse Malevolent Femcantation's effects. Rather than let it erode Lady Acier's body and soul, we'd deceive Megicula, turning the curse into a source of strength, enhancing Lady Acier like Megicula empowers herself."
Nathan looked at Lilith for a moment and chimed in, "With Cimeies' power, it might be feasible."
Sebastian, impressed, considered. "But I take it this one is the hardest to pull off?"
Both men nodded. Nathan added cautiously, "I've seen limited success with this approach. Attempting it on such a high-level curse doesn't fill me with confidence."
Nor me, Sebastian thought, but he clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, let's stop here for today."
Draven, surprised, frowned. "But we still have an hour left in the session."
Sebastian glanced at the dull-eyed clone on the bed and then at the visibly shaken Dorothy, sighing. "I think she's had enough for now. Let's give her time to recover." Who he was referring to was left unspoken.
Dorothy glanced at him, mouthing a silent "thank you."
Sebastian nodded, stifling a yawn as he added, "Besides, haven't you all noticed feeling sleepy? If you fall asleep in the Glamour World, you die." He said it with unnerving calm.
The group froze, and Acier and Nozel turned sharply toward Noelle, who was still giggling in Sebastian's arms. Seeing she was unharmed, they sighed in relief—though they both shot Sebastian stern looks.
Dorothy looked sheepish, scratching her neck. "I did try to shield you from that part of the spell, but I guess I haven't quite mastered it yet." Without further ado, she snapped her fingers, and they were expelled from Glamour World, reappearing in the quiet stillness of the Deep Blue Room.
Everyone took a moment to collect themselves, and then Draven turned to Sebastian, his eyes narrowed. "Should we head home for now, or is the evening appointment still on?"
Sebastian glanced at Dorothy, who gave him a determined nod. He nodded back at Draven, "Yes, perhaps you and the Agrippas should discuss your findings now that you've seen Malevolent Femcantation up close, the way it marks a soul."
The Agrippas and Fausts shared a quick nod, and a shadow portal started forming on the wall.
Sebastian's gaze shifted thoughtfully to Nathan. If he's uneasy about the technique, perhaps I should give him a chance to see his work in action. His mind drifted to two young mages—a slow-spoken boy and a prickly girl—who could benefit from Nathan's help.
Sebastian was about to suggest reconvening at three when a sharp knock pounded on the door. Everyone froze, and the Fausts and Agrippas looked ready to vanish when a familiar voice sounded.
"My lord, it's me."
They all relaxed, and Sebastian lowered the barrier blocking the door. "Come in, Alfred."
With a gentle swing of the door, Alfred entered, bowing to everyone before briefly pausing as he looked at Dorothy. He made his way to Sebastian, and everyone watched as he leaned in to whisper something that caused Sebastian's brows to rise.
"Already?" Sebastian asked, just loud enough for the room to hear. "Isn't that a bit... quick?"
What's too quick? Nozel thought though he held his tongue, watching as Alfred shook his head wryly before continuing, "I didn't have to look for them, Master. They... came to me."
Who? The curiosity in the room was palpable.
Sebastian's expression changed to a grim smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Those guys have a really high opinion of me... or I guess low if they think I'm of the same mind as them." He chuckled while scratching his chin.
Alfred simply lowered his head, refraining from comment.
Turning back to the group, Sebastian addressed them all. "I'll need to miss the 3 pm appointment."
"Why?" Nozel demanded.
But Sebastian just shook his head and walked over to Acier's bedside, opening a cabinet drawer to pull out an elegant glass bottle.
Wine? Everyone watched, intrigued.
Sebastian looked at Acier, his tone soft, "Mind if I take this?"
Acier nodded, curious but silent.
Sebastian smiled his thanks, then turned to Jonna. "Mrs. Agrippa, may I ask you a favor?"
Omake:
Nozel gawked as he watched Dorothy casually wield countless elements like she had the world at her fingertips.
Seeing her power in person didn't make him feel any pride or glee, that such a person was to be his wife.
No, it just made him feel frustration, as he clenched his fist in frustration. Even my fiancée is stronger than me? That means... that means...
Nozel turned his head, towards his mother propped up on the floating bed, before focusing his gaze on his father hovering in the pink void, beside her.
That means I really am my father's son. Nozel thought grimly.