Reborn As Papa Silva

Chapter 59: Their Story (9)

Following the morning of September 1st, 1600, the next two weeks brought turmoil and tragedy to the Clover Kingdom.

Shortly after Pope Benedictus announced King Octavian's passing, the kingdom dissolved into grief and chaos.

The unrest came to a head less than an hour into the king's memorial. The noble realm had gathered around the royal palace, draped in black, to pay their respects. Yet, all decorum shattered as five of the king's sons abandoned civility and ignited a fierce royal succession war.

King Octavian had six sons and no daughters. However, only five were considered candidates for the throne. Lux, the full-blood brother of Augustus and son of the Queen, had been excluded. The Dowager Queen, unwilling to see her children battle to the death, had ensured Lux was never designated as a royal contender.

As far as anyone knew, Lux had accepted his fate. Thus, the competition for the throne lay between Augustus, the Queen's firstborn, and the four sons of Octavian's concubines.

Tradition dictated that such a succession war should wait until the royal family had observed weeks, even months, of filial mourning. Any conflict would have been confined to covert scheming, political maneuvering, and discreet faction-building until the mourning period ended. But that tacit agreement to delay was shattered by an unforeseen tragedy.

During the memorial, Alexander Berda—the youngest prince and son of the king's lowest-ranking concubine—suddenly collapsed. His death was swift and final, leaving the congregation in stunned disbelief.

And then, madness erupted.

Augustus' and Lux's half-brothers barely masked their glee at Alexander's death. His passing created an opening they hadn't dared hope for. Augustus, though never officially named crown prince, had been the king's favored son. As the legitimate heir of House Kira, he held the strongest claim to the throne. He possessed light magic, the most mana among his siblings, and the implicit backing of the Dowager Queen. To many, his ascension seemed inevitable.

But then came the scandal.

Seizing the opportunity, his three opportunistic brothers spread a damning accusation: Augustus, the supposed heir, was a ruthless tyrant. They painted him as the one responsible for Alexander's death—a murder committed at their father's funeral, no less.

Augustus retaliated immediately, dismissing the accusations as baseless. "Why would I jeopardize everything when the throne is already within my grasp?" he argued. His reasoning was sound, but logic often falters against the frailty of human doubt. Once suspicion takes root, no amount of evidence can easily uproot it.

His brothers knew this all too well.

Through their channels, rumors spread like wildfire across the kingdom—from the desolate Forsaken Realm to the bustling Common Realm and the heart of the Noble Realm. Whispers became roars: He killed his own brother? At the king's memorial? This cannot stand!

Fueled by outrage, the people armed themselves with pitchforks, torches, spears, and crude weapons. The chaos spiraled into a full-blown civil war as mobs marched on the capital, demanding Augustus be dragged to the gallows.

Their eyes burned red with fury as they rioted outside the castle gates, demanding Augustus' execution. But their demands couldn't—and wouldn't—be answered. To give in would only make things worse.

Executing Augustus to satisfy the mob wasn't an option. For one, a prince couldn't be put to death without undeniable proof, especially in a case as significant as this. More importantly, violence didn't quench the anger of the masses; it only fueled it. Worse still, opportunistic spies from rival kingdoms could exploit such chaos, using the death of one prince to destabilize the Clover Kingdom further.

That's why the royal knights had mobilized, sealing the castle in a tight lockdown, while the Magic Knights made their move.

The Silver Eagles, Crimson Lions, Blue Rose, and Purple Orcas—pride of the Clover Kingdom—arrived to confront the mob. Together, they managed to drive the rioters back to the edge of the Noble Realm. Despite the overwhelming numbers of the mob, the Magic Knights' superior magic initially gave them the upper hand.

But that advantage didn't last long.

Most of the Magic Knights' spells were useless in this situation. Attack magic could not be used without risking lives, which would only incite further outrage. They were limited to restraining and sealing spells, but most of them lacked expertise in such techniques. Left with few options, they resorted to intimidation: surges of mana to suppress the crowd and non-lethal displays of power—bolts of lightning, gusts of wind, and fiery explosions lighting up the skies.

It worked—until it didn't.

Hooded figures and unassuming agitators within the crowd fanned the flames of chaos. Some cast spells to sow discord, pitting rioters and knights against one another. Others attacked civilians, posing as Magic Knights to deepen mistrust. Shouts of fury rang out as provocateurs fueled the mob's anger, pushing both sides to escalate.

Then people started dying.

Magic Knights, enraged that "lowly peasants" dared to strike them, began retaliating with lethal force. The rioters, driven by sheer numbers and desperation, fought back with equal ferocity.

It no longer mattered who had started it. Neither side realized they were being played. All that surfaced were the buried emotions—centuries of disdain from the nobility toward commoners and simmering frustration from the peasants toward the elite.

Blood soaked the streets. Houses and shops were destroyed. Windows shattered as people trampled one another in their desperate attempts to flee. Young children and the elderly were crushed underfoot. Fires broke out, spreading rapidly as arsonists and maniacs reveled in the destruction.

For five days, the kingdom descended into barbarity. Human savagery ran rampant, unchecked by the words of priests or the intervention of the clergy. Nothing could calm the storm.

Then, on the night of September 5th, something extraordinary happened.

The riots raged on when, suddenly, everyone in the Clover Kingdom looked up. The starry sky was interrupted by the manifestation of something massive—a card.

Titled XIX at the top, the card bore the image of a radiant, smiling sun, four sunflowers dotting its horizon. At its center, a naked child rode a white horse, silhouetted against the glowing light. It hovered over the kingdom, illusionary yet undeniably real.

Then, the smiling sun emerged from the card, transforming into a blazing sphere of yellow fire. It grew to an enormous size, creating the strange and surreal sight of a sun blazing in the night sky. Its light bathed the kingdom, illuminating every corner.

And with its light came peace.

The anger, hatred, and betrayal that had consumed the people's hearts were suppressed. The brilliant sun quelled the fury, replacing it with an overwhelming sense of calm. Even after its light dimmed, the crowd no longer had the will to fight.

The 26th Wizard King, Alden Arcana, had finally made his move.

Why he had waited so long was a mystery. But his intervention brought an end to the madness, replacing rage with blooming positivity. Shame and regret spread across the faces of the rioters as they retreated in an orderly fashion. The Magic Knights, meanwhile, shifted their focus to repairing the destruction.

As for the culprits who had incited the chaos, none escaped. The sun's rays singled them out, marking them for capture. Those who didn't fight to the death or take their own lives were apprehended on the spot.

And so, the riots ended, but the scars they left behind were far from healed.

The tension and underlying cause of all this madness still loomed over the kingdom, demanding to be addressed.

For a brief moment, hope stirred as Alden Arcana, the Wizard King, appeared in person. Wielding the full force of his political authority—nearly unmatched after King Octavian's passing—he ordered the warring princes to retreat to their dwellings. The succession war was suppressed, at least temporarily, as the Magic Knights and the Magic Parliament launched a formal investigation into Alexander's death.

But Alexander's death remained a confounding mystery. Despite extensive examinations, investigators found no signs of poison, foul play, or illness. By all accounts, his body was in perfect health, as if his life had simply... vanished.

How does a prince in his prime just die?

Though perplexing, this lingering uncertainty brought a small advantage: with the investigation ongoing, the princes remained under house arrest. Their confinement granted the kingdom a brief reprieve—a fragile breather in the midst of chaos.

But peace, as always, was short-lived.

Within two days, the drums of war echoed through the Clover Kingdom once more.

The Diamond Kingdom rallied an army and marched on Clover's borders, their sights set firmly on Kiten. The Blue Rose and Purple Orca squads were dispatched immediately to intercept the invasion.

Yet, the Diamond Kingdom wasn't the only threat. A day later, the Heart Kingdom—long known for its neutrality and isolation—began making calculated moves. They expanded their northern border, encroaching slowly but deliberately into Clover's territory.

Now, the Blue Rose and Purple Orca were stretched thin, forced to battle on two fronts while already being vastly outnumbered by the Diamond Kingdom.

The Crimson Lions and Silver Eagles couldn't reinforce them. Though technically Magic Knight squads, in reality, they were extensions of the royal households of Vermillion and Silva. In these times of civil strife, neither house would allow its military strength to stray far from the castle.

Instead, the Crimson Lions and Silver Eagles were tasked with maintaining order across the kingdom's major towns and cities, ensuring no more riots erupted.

Raque, Kikka, Pho, Hecairo, and the Royal Capital itself bore the presence of knights in crimson and silver robes, watching the populace like hawks.

As for the Forsaken Realm? Well, they were called forsaken for a reason.

The best they received were half-hearted prayers and carts of meager supplies, along with an order to hold the line and fend for themselves. The kingdom did offer them a chance to retreat into the common and noble realms for protection under the Magic Knights, but the peasants refused.

Their livelihoods were tied to their lands—their farms, their homes, their incomes. Abandoning them meant losing everything. And even if they sought refuge in the inner realms, the nobility made no promises of food or shelter. Without land to sustain them, starvation was a certainty.

Winter was just months away. Better to die defending their homes than freeze to death in the open, forsaken once again by the kingdom.

So, they took up arms themselves.

Farmers, blacksmiths, and merchants transformed into makeshift soldiers, laying down their lives to protect their towns. But this was not a sustainable solution. Against the trained forces of the Heart and Diamond Kingdoms, they stood no chance.

In desperation, the kingdom began enlisting anyone willing to fight. Adventurers, mercenaries, and even desperate civilians flocked to the borders, lured by the promise of gold. Of course, payment was contingent on victory—and survival—but for many, it was their only option.

The Wizard King, ever resourceful, turned to the nobility. He called upon retired Magic Knights, urging them to set aside their comforts and fight for their kingdom once more.

Few answered the call. Most who did were old, frail, or far removed from their prime. Years of luxury had dulled their strength. Their contributions were meager at best.

And so, with no other choice, the Wizard King—the one figure holding the capital and the princes in check—was forced to leave.

The Blue Rose and Purple Orca squads, initially split to address multiple fronts, were ordered to regroup and focus their efforts entirely on holding off the Diamond Kingdom. The Wizard King, Alden Arcana, would personally deal with the Heart Kingdom.

His objective was simple: secure a renewed agreement of neutrality with the Heart Kingdom as swiftly as possible so he could turn his attention back to driving out the Diamond invaders.

Unlike Diamond, Heart's encroachment wasn't driven by savagery or chaos. Their expansion into Clover territory was slow, calculated, and relatively peaceful. They sought to claim land, not pillage it. Prisoners were taken alive, and surrenders were accepted. It was clear that Heart could be reasoned with—a stark contrast to Diamond's unrestrained hunger for destruction. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Alden met no resistance as he passed through the Heart Kingdom's famed water barrier. Upon arriving, he requested an audience with the queen.

Of course, should negotiations fail, he was fully prepared to resolve matters the primal way, proving to the Heart Kingdom that the title of Wizard King was not just for show.

Meanwhile, with Alden away from the capital, the succession war reignited.

The only saving grace was the discipline Alden had instilled in the unruly princes before his departure. They knew better than to act rashly this time. Until Alexander's death was thoroughly investigated and the culprit brought to justice, Alden had made one thing painfully clear:

Don't even think about the throne. If I return and find someone sitting on it, I'll pull them off myself.

Pope Benedictus, wielding the full moral authority of the Church, publicly supported the Wizard King's decree.

Even their late father, King Octavian, had treated both Alden and the Pope with respect. None of the princes could afford to offend the Wizard King, the Pope, and, by extension, the entire Magic Knights and Church. For now, they had no choice but to bow their heads, tuck their tails, and bide their time.

The battle for the throne had shifted. It wouldn't be one of fists or swords—not yet, at least. It was now a war of words, alliances, and political maneuvering.

Dark times loomed over the Clover Kingdom. Internal turmoil festered while war raged on its borders. Many would lose their lives, their homes, and their hope. Morale was at its lowest, and the kingdom seemed poised to fall apart.

But none of this had much to do with Sebastian and Acier—or at least, not yet.

—

Castle Silva, Dining Hall

I want to see Sebastian.

Acier absentmindedly prodded at the egg on her plate, releasing a quiet sigh.

The past two weeks had been utter chaos. The heavy presence of royals and Magic Knights around the castle and its territory made her feel as though she was walking on eggshells. Confined to her room as the civil war raged outside, her only view of the madness came through her window—flames of war licking the horizon, a reminder of the turmoil below.

Yet, in a strange way, the civil war was almost a blessing in disguise.

Under normal circumstances, after officially debuting as a noble lady, she would have been besieged by suitors—countless "pigs in human clothing," as she thought of them—clamoring for her attention. They would parade through the castle, each trying to woo her with flowery words and hollow gestures.

But with the estate on lockdown, no one could come in or out. She didn't have to endure their advances.

Still, the solitude was suffocating.

To pass the time, Acier sorted through the mountain of gifts and letters she had received over the weeks. Most were love letters, each more elaborate than the last, while others included extravagant jewels or certificates for land and gold. Yet none of it moved her heart.

Her gaze drifted to the blue hyacinths sitting in a vase beside her bed. Their vibrant petals brought Sebastian to mind.

She missed him.

Though she could have used the magic responder she'd gifted him to contact him, she hadn't dared. With so many eyes scrutinizing her every move, watching her like hawks, she couldn't risk drawing attention to him.

Still, she didn't need to worry about his safety. She had already used her influence as the Silva heiress to ensure he was far removed from the conflict, living peacefully at the edge of Silva territory.

The estate's lockdown meant he couldn't have left during the war. He's safe, she reassured herself.

Her cheeks warmed as she speared a piece of egg with her fork and thought about him. She wasn't even sure if she could still call him just a friend after that night.

She didn't dislike the thought.

The civil war gave her plenty of time to reflect on Sebastian's confession. Over those quiet, solitary days, she became a blushing mess, coming to a meek, flustered realization.

If... if he truly feels that way, if my beauty and charm stirred those feelings in him, I-I suppose I should take responsibility. I should accept those feelings, especially if he's willing to put his life on the line to court me.

Acier's blush deepened as her mind wandered to his image—his neatly combed silver hair, moonlit ocean-blue eyes, and lean build.

It's not like I'd be losing out... he's pretty handsome, I think.

Across the table, Amara and Aurelia watched Acier closely, suppressing the urge to raise their eyebrows as they noted her flushed face and dreamy expression.

Oblivious to their scrutiny, Acier bit her lip and straightened her posture. A surge of resolve welled within her as she made a decision.

The lockdown was lifted.

I shouldn't waste any more time. I want to see Sebastian.

Acier glanced to her left, looking up at Nicklaus Silva as he dined calmly on cod. Her lips parted hesitantly.

"Grandpa?" she called softly, a light plea threading through her voice.

Nicklaus Silva stiffened for a brief moment before turning toward her, a practiced smile spreading across his face. "What is it, my dear?"

Acier paused, studying him. That smile... It feels a bit forced.

Now that she thought about it, her grandfather had been unusually reserved and distant ever since her celebration.

Is it because I'm officially an adult now? Is he treating me with more respect...?

She didn't dwell on the thought for long. Instead, she mustered a bright smile—the kind he always seemed to ask of her—and asked, her voice filled with hope:

"May I go out... and pay my friend Sebastian a visit?"

Her stomach churned with nervous anticipation. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation, or worse—having to sneak out and risk a fight later. She could already picture her grandfather's wrathful face as he stormed off to punish her friend for daring to exist in her orbit.

But what happened next caught her completely off guard.

Nicklaus's expression softened into a gentle smile. "Of course, my dear. But the kingdom is unstable right now, so just make sure you're back by lunchtime, alright?"

Acier froze, her mouth slightly agape as her eyes widened in disbelief.

Amara and Aurelia mirrored her reaction, staring at Nicklaus as if he'd suddenly grown a second head.

At the head of the table, Nathaniel continued eating his cod with the same measured composure, though his silver eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something dark passing through them.

Acier finally found her voice, stammering, "R-really...?" She could barely believe it. "I-I don't even need to take any guards...?"

Nicklaus gave her a sheepish, apologetic look. "I'm afraid we can't spare any protection with everything going on. You're welcome to bring your maid along, though. I'd accompany you myself, but any movement on my part might send the wrong signal in these tense times and cause unnecessary trouble."

He leaned in slightly, his tone gentle. "Is that alright, my dear—"

He didn't get to finish. Acier launched out of her seat, throwing her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank you, Grandpa! You're the best!" she exclaimed, her voice alight with genuine joy, her beaming smile the same one she had worn when she danced with Sebastian.

Nicklaus faltered, his heart tightening painfully. He had finally gotten the smile he always wanted from her, but it wasn't because of him. It was because of another boy—a boy who was slowly stealing his precious gem away.

He buried those bitter thoughts deep, hiding them behind an expertly crafted grandfatherly smile.

"Don't mention it, my dear. Just remember to stay safe."

Acier beamed once more, pulling away from the hug. She turned to bow to her father, who dismissed her with a curt nod.

She skipped out of the dining hall, giddy with happiness, the twin doors swinging shut behind her.

Silence fell.

Amara and Aurelia turned toward Nicklaus, only to freeze at the sight of his visage—cold, rigid, and utterly devoid of emotion.

Nathaniel glanced at his father. Nicklaus met his gaze. The two men locked eyes, icy silver against icy silver, an unspoken exchange passing between them.

Then, as if nothing had happened, they both returned to eating their breakfast in silence.

—

Acier perched at the edge of her bed, clutching her transponder tightly as waves of nervous anticipation coursed through her. Mana flowed steadily from her fingertips, causing the gem atop the device to glow softly.

Moments later, the voice she most wanted to hear crackled through the gem.

"Acier?"

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she nearly squealed in excitement before catching herself. She twirled a lock of her hair, her voice striving for casualness.

"Sebastian, where are you right now?"

"...Kikka, at my stall. Why...?" Sebastian's tone carried a hint of hesitation, his response careful.

Acier's excitement only grew as she pressed the device closer. "I'll be there in an hour. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

There was a pause on the other end before he answered, "I have no plans to... but are you sure that's okay? The kingdom isn't exactly safe right now—"

"Sebastian." Acier's tone turned firm, her brow furrowing slightly. "I'll be there in an hour."

Another brief silence followed, and then his voice returned, softer this time. "...Okay? See you there."

Acier's lips curled into a radiant smile. "See you soon!"

As the gem's glow faded and the connection severed, she set the transponder down, her thoughts already racing. She walked across her room to her sprawling walk-in closet, its walls lined with countless elegant dresses, skirts, and luxurious outfits.

What to wear, what to wear? she mused, her fingers lightly brushing against the silken fabrics.

But then she froze, her cheeks turning a bright pink as an embarrassing thought struck her.

Wait a minute. Why am I overthinking this? I'll just wear the traditional Silva attire, like always.

Her gaze wavered, flitting back to the mirror where her reflection stared back at her.

It-it's not like this is a date or anything! Just keep it casual, Acier.

She nodded to herself, but as her eyes drifted once more to the array of dresses, her resolve began to crack.

Just be casual, she reminded herself again, biting her lip, though her lingering gaze told a different story.

Her thoughts warred between practicality and temptation, the silence of the room broken only by the soft rustle of her hesitant footsteps.

—

Kikka, Marketplace

Sebastian blinked, momentarily breathless. The somber mood that had clouded the marketplace, stripped of its usual liveliness by the heavy security presence, melted away the instant he saw Acier standing in front of him. Her nervous smile brightened the atmosphere more than anything else could.

Her outfit was strikingly simple—nothing like the traditional Silva attire he was accustomed to. She wore a knee-length grassy-green skirt, semi-casual dress slippers, a plain white crew-neck sweater, and a luxurious purse slung over her right shoulder. Her makeup was understated: a touch of light lipstick, a faint blush on her cheeks, and small, delicate ringed earrings. Her silver hair was tied into a modest bun, effortlessly elegant.

Despite the simplicity, she radiated an unintentional charm that turned heads. Passersby gawked at her, unable to look away, while the patrolling Silver Eagle guards—already tipped off by Nathaniel to keep an eye out for her—rubbed their eyes in disbelief. The princess of House Silva had walked right past them and was now casually sitting by Sebastian's rickety stall.

"H-how do I look?" Acier asked, her voice uncharacteristically meek.

"Nice. Really nice," Sebastian replied without hesitation.

The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, and her cheeks flushed as she lowered her head, fidgeting.

A moment later, Sebastian spoke again, softer this time. "I missed you. A lot."

Acier's head jerked up, her lips parting as she caught the nervous yet earnest expression on his face. His words were simple, but they carried a depth that left her momentarily stunned. Then, her lips curved into a radiant smile, her eyes stinging with emotion.

"Me too!" she replied, her voice full of warmth.

Sebastian nodded lightly, averting his gaze with a bashful expression.

Acier chuckled, the moment filling her with a rare kind of happiness. But as she glanced around, she noticed the lingering stares of the crowd. Her heart sank slightly, remembering where she was. Leaning closer to Sebastian, she whispered, "I'll go buy a cloak."

She didn't mind the attention—it wasn't lustful, just awe—but she worried her presence might intimidate Sebastian's potential patients.

Just as she began to rise from her seat, she froze. Sebastian had grabbed her wrist, gently but firmly pulling her back down.

She turned to him, puzzled, but paused when she noticed the intensity in his ocean-blue eyes. They seemed to pierce right through her.

"W-what is it?" she stammered.

"You don't have to do that," Sebastian said simply, his voice steady.

Acier blinked, caught off guard. "But—"

"You don't have to hide your looks," he continued, his tone resolute. "I don't need patients who can't muster the courage to approach me because they're intimidated or blinded by you."

Her eyes widened, and her face turned crimson. "B-but what about your i-income?" she stuttered, biting her lip. She couldn't help but worry.

Sebastian chuckled softly, his familiar, comforting smile spreading across his face. "The plus side of war is that doctors and clinics are never short on work."

He reached behind him and pulled something out—a tip jar, already nearly half full.

"I've already made more than I usually do by this time," he said with a grin. "And it's still just the morning. You don't need to worry about my income."

Acier gaped at the jar before stiffly nodding.

"Besides," Sebastian added, smirking playfully, "you're leaving at lunch, right?"

Acier nodded again, and his smirk widened. "So I'll have plenty of time to make more after you leave."

Leaning in slightly, he dropped his voice, his gaze soft but unwavering. "Even if I didn't, I wouldn't regret it. Not if it means I get to admire the beauty of Princess Acier. So don't you dare cover up, alright?"

Steam practically poured from Acier's ears as her face burned scarlet. She lowered her head, nodding in a dazed state. "Mmm-hmm."

Sebastian's smile softened as he looked at her fondly.

Neither of them noticed the cloaked figure standing across the street, their features hidden in shadow, silently observing the scene.

—

Acier stood up slowly, brushing off her skirt with a small smile directed at Sebastian.

"All right, it's lunchtime. I'm heading back to the capital," she said lightly, her tone casual.

Sebastian shot up from his chair, the sudden movement startling her. His expression was a mix of intensity and bashfulness, making Acier's heart skip a beat.

"O-one second, Acier. I-I have something to say to you..." His words faltered, his face flushing red.

Acier's heart raced. Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god. Is he going to confess now?! She glanced around, taking in the decidedly unromantic marketplace. Her eyes darted to the rough edges of the wooden stall, the cobblestone road, and the distant chatter of vendors. Panic set in. No, no, no! I-I'm not ready yet!

Sebastian opened his mouth again, "I—"

Before he could finish, Acier stepped forward, placing a trembling index finger against his lips. Her eyes squeezed shut as she vehemently shook her head side to side.

"Not yet!" she blurted out, her voice loud enough to draw a few curious stares.

Sebastian froze, blinking in confusion. "Not yet?" he echoed, tilting his head.

Acier nodded vigorously, her face flushed as she placed a hand over her thundering heart. "I-I already know what you're going to say!"

Sebastian's brows shot up in shock. "Y-you do? How?"

Acier chuckled nervously, her voice shaky. "Y-you weren't exactly subtle, and I'm no idiot."

"Oh..." Sebastian murmured, his mouth slightly agape. His gaze dropped to the ground as he scratched the back of his neck. "W-why can't I just say it, though? I r-really want to..."

"Because I'm not ready yet!" Acier practically yelled, her embarrassment hitting its peak.

Sebastian flinched, his eyes wide as she continued, her words tumbling out in a rush.

"I-I'm going to accept your feelings! B-but I need a little more time to figure out how to say what I feel about you. S-so please..." She dipped into a clumsy curtsy, lowering her head. "Please give me that time."

Sebastian's right hand, which had been reaching into his satchel for the small box he'd hidden there, froze mid-motion.

Wait... what is she talking about? he thought, his mind racing. Accept my feelings?

Sebastian wasn't the most emotionally intuitive person, but even he couldn't miss what was happening now. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. He could almost see the future disaster if he pulled out the gift now—Acier would definitely misinterpret it as a proposal.

Swallowing hard, he withdrew his hand from the bag and nodded stiffly. "O-okay... take all the time you need."

Acier looked up, relief shining in her eyes. She smiled at him, muttered a quick "thank you," and turned to leave.

From across the street, the cloaked figure that had been watching them all morning quietly pulled out a magic transponder. Whispering something inaudible into the glowing gem at its top, they continued to observe as Acier walked away, completely unaware of the eyes on her.

—

House Vardy

Sebastian stood stiffly in front of the renowned dance instructor, Count Vardy, who reclined in his plush sofa chair with an air of practiced indifference. The Count's emerald gaze fixed sharply on him, his monocle catching the light as he adjusted it with a measured precision.

"Run that by me again, boy?" the Count said, his tone calm but laced with impatience.

Sebastian straightened, clearing his throat. "Sir, I was wondering... are you possibly aware of anything I've done—or any indications I might have made—that could be interpreted as having romantic feelings for Princess Acier?"

Count Vardy blinked slowly at the young man in front of him, resisting the urge to spit out the tea he wasn't even drinking. He let out a sigh, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest of his chair. Boy, don't you think that asking a girl to a dance could do the job? The Count inwardly mocked before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Boy," Vardy started, his voice dripping with incredulity, "do you hate that feeling?"

Sebastian tilted his head, his brow furrowed. "Pardon?"

Vardy groaned and rubbed his temples, as though the question itself caused him physical pain. "Do I really have to spell it out for you?" He straightened up, tapping his cane firmly against the floor before pointing it directly at Sebastian's chest.

"Do you hate the thought of the Princess suspecting your feelings—and worse—reciprocating them?"

Sebastian froze, the words sinking into him. It was true that the thought of Acier realizing his feelings—or worse, reciprocating them—had troubled him. No matter the brave face he showed her, deep down, it filled him with a mix of excitement and dread.

But do I hate the thought...?

He bit his lip, his cheeks burning as the answer crept up on him unbidden. Slowly, he shook his head, his voice soft but honest. "N-no, not at all."

For a moment, there was silence as Count Vardy stared at him, unblinking. Then, a vein bulged visibly on the Count's forehead.

"Then why are you wasting my time with this crap, boy?!"

The cane came down with a loud thwack against Sebastian's head, the mana-infused strike leaving him wincing and stumbling backward.

By the time Sebastian made his way home that evening, a noticeable bump throbbed on his scalp, a painful reminder of his visit to House Vardy—and his continued obliviousness.

—

September 15, 1600

Sebastian blinked, startled by the sight in front of him. Acier wasn't alone today. Instead, she approached his stall carrying a tiny bundle in her arms—a baby girl with a mischievous toothy grin that flashed up at him.

His initial nervousness about seeing Acier faded into sheer incredulity as he gestured toward the child. "Acier, why are you walking around with the Vermillion princess in your arms?"

Acier beamed, her steps light and cheerful as she skipped to his stall, sitting down beside him with a playful chuckle. "Amber and Ignatius are tied to the castle right now, and Florian's with my sister. Amber asked if I could take little Mereoleona out for some fresh air and a walk."

She wiggled her finger in front of the baby, who promptly grabbed it with her tiny pudgy hands and stuffed it into her mouth. Acier cooed in delight, her eyes sparkling.

Sebastian, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow. A rival family trusts her with their baby girl? That's... unusual.

Acier suddenly turned to him with a bright smile, holding the baby out toward him. "Want to hold her?"

Sebastian stiffened instantly, his hands shooting up as if to ward off the idea. "N-no, not at all. I—I shouldn't."

"Shouldn't?" Acier repeated, her smile turning sly. "Meaning you want to."

Sebastian froze, his lips parting to vehemently deny it, but Acier cut him off, her voice soft and teasing. "Come on, Sebastian. She won't bite. Hold the girl."

Before he could retort, Acier tilted her head down at the baby. "What do you think, little Mereoleona? Want good ol' Uncle Sebastian to hold you?"

"Uncle?" Sebastian choked, flushing crimson. But his attention shifted to the baby, who—much to his disbelief—seemed to be sizing him up.

He blinked. Mereoleona blinked back.

And then, under his incredulous gaze, the baby rolled her eyes and extended a tiny hand toward him, as if begrudgingly granting him permission.

Sebastian hesitated but eventually took the baby, his movements stiff and awkward. Mereoleona immediately scrunched her face in displeasure, making him freeze in panic.

Acier giggled, her laughter light and melodious. "It seems even little Mereoleona can make that face."

Sebastian remained rigid, unsure of what to do until Acier stepped behind him. Her hands gently guided his arms into a proper cradle hold, her perfume faint but intoxicating as she leaned closer to adjust his posture.

His heart raced, pounding in his ears as he glanced down to see Mereoleona looking up at him, her earlier displeasure replaced by calm curiosity. Tentatively, he reached out and touched her cheek, his heart softening when she didn't recoil.

Sebastian noticed the baby was now bold, it seems like her parents cut off her little tufts of hair.

Acier watched the scene unfold with a fond smile before leaning over his shoulder. Her voice dropped to a whisper, soft and probing, right in his ear. "Sebastian?"

"Y-yeah?" he stammered, a shiver running up his spine.

Her next words came even softer, carrying a weight he wasn't prepared for. "Can you see yourself being a father?"

Sebastian froze, the question striking a chord he didn't want touched. His gaze dropped to the baby in his arms, but she wasn't there anymore.

Instead, he saw bones.

His mind dragged him back, unbidden, to a scene from a year ago—his parents' bedroom, a sight he had tried so hard to forget. His mother's lifeless body slumped on the bed, her empty pupils staring at nothing, while his father hung from a rope above her, his shadow casting a haunting silhouette.

Sebastian's gaze lingered on his mother's swollen belly—the life that had been lost before it even began.

He snapped back to the present with a jolt, his heart racing. Without a word, he turned in his seat and handed Mereoleona back to Acier.

"Sebastian?" Acier asked, startled as she instinctively took the baby.

"No, I can't," Sebastian said, shaking his head.

Acier stiffened, the warmth of the moment dissipating as silence fell between them.

—

By lunchtime, Acier was making her way back to the castle, Mereoleona nestled securely in her arms. She wasn't alone. Sebastian walked silently beside her, his posture rigid, his expression a little too serious.

He had insisted on escorting her, reasoning that if trouble arose, Acier wouldn't be able to fight back while protecting the baby. It was a sentiment she appreciated, even if the air between them felt heavier than usual.

Neither had said much since their earlier conversation. The mood of the moment Sebastian had inadvertently spoiled lingered, leaving a thin layer of awkwardness between them. They both understood that this was just one of those things time would smooth over—by tomorrow, everything would go back to normal. For now, though, neither dared to address it, fearing they might make things worse.

As they walked through Kikka, approaching the noble realm, a stall owner's voice rang out, breaking the tense silence.

"Hey, over here! Couples discount, and children eat free! Though I don't think I have anything your little girl can eat," the man guffawed, holding out a meat skewer and gesturing toward a sign that read: 25% off for couples!

Both Acier and Sebastian froze, their faces flushing crimson.

"W-we're not—" Sebastian stammered, only to be cut off by the owner's hearty laugh.

"Your little girl has her mother's eyes," the man added with a knowing smile. "Make sure you protect them, young man!"

Without waiting for a response, the owner stuffed the skewer into Sebastian's hand. Reflexively, Sebastian handed over two copper yule, his movements mechanical.

He turned to Acier, still blushing and frozen, her lavender eyes darting anywhere but at him. Then his gaze fell to the baby in her arms—Mereoleona, wide-eyed and gaping as if equally confused.

Sebastian suddenly understood the mistake. Mereoleona's purple eyes are a little darker than Acier's lavender ones... paired with my blue eyes, I guess from a distance, it's easy to make the wrong assumption. Especially with her bald head.

He risked a glance back at Acier, who quickly averted her gaze, nervously fidgeting. His heart thudded painfully in his chest.

I can't imagine being a father... but if it's with you...

The thought hit him harder than expected, and he quickly shook his head, banishing it. The rest of the walk back to the capital passed in deafening silence.

Meanwhile, from a shadowy alleyway, a cloaked figure observed them before slipping away. The figure pulled out a magic transponder and whispered something inaudible into its topmost gem.

—

Far away, Nicklaus Silva sat alone in his private study, the matching transponder clasped tightly in his hand. Its gem glowed faintly as a voice crackled through, and he listened intently before nodding once.

"I understand. Good work," he replied, his voice cold and detached. As the glow dimmed and faded, he placed the device carefully on his desk.

Nicklaus turned to the wide, open window, his arms folded behind his back. The breeze carried the faint scent of rain, rustling the curtains as he stood silently for a moment, gazing out at the distant horizon.

Finally, he murmured, almost too softly to hear, "Forgive me for what I do next, my dear Amethyst. This is all for your sake... and your happiness."

Author's Notes:

[1] I have an exam next Wednesday so maybe less often updates

[2] Feel free to join the discord: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar