Reborn As Papa Silva

Chapter 49: Leave It To The Big Guy

"Lord Silva... you wished to see me?" Francois fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa chair, his gaze darting between Sebastian and Acier as they sat across from him in Sebastian's private study.

"Yes, I did," Sebastian replied with a gentle nod, extending his hand. "Thank you for making it here first thing this morning, especially on such short notice."

Francois forced a polite smile as he shook Sebastian's hand. "It's nothing worth mentioning, Your Lordship. I was already up, and my mornings are... relatively free." Free of what? Purpose? Meaning? He mentally cringed at himself but kept his composure.

Whether that was true or not, Sebastian wouldn't embarrass Francois for his effort to maintain dignity.

Sebastian withdrew his hand and inclined his head slightly, his tone measured yet apologetic. "I must apologize for the informal method I used to contact you. Our Houses are not personally acquainted, so I leveraged a mutual connection. This is a matter of precedence for my House."

"I hope that hasn't displeased you."

Francois panicked, his face flushing as he frantically waved his hands. "Don't be, Your Excellency! It is an honor—truly—for someone as insignificant as myself to be summoned to Castle Silva and serve in any capacity." Stop talking. You're embarrassing yourself.

Sebastian paused, his brow furrowing before shaking his head in quiet disapproval. "Lord Francois, need I remind you? Even though the court is not in session, you are still the House Speaker of the Clover Kingdom."

"You lowering yourself so much disrespects not only yourself and your title but this nation." His voice softened, yet his words carried weight. "You should hold your head high—with pride."

Francois opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, a mixture of shame and self-deprecation settling over him. "You're right, Lord Silva," he muttered, his gaze lowering slightly. "It's just... I'm a noble of the lowest rank, and you—you're on the opposite side of that spectrum. It's hard not to feel... you know..." Like a shadow in the presence of the sun.

Sebastian nodded, his expression understanding. There were, after all, undeniable differences between nobles.

In the Clover Kingdom, traditional noble titles still held some weight: Lord, Knight, Baron, Viscount, Count, Marquess, Prince, Duke, Crown Prince, and finally, King.

While "Crown Prince" was formally superior, the dukes—royal patriarchs like Sebastian—often held more practical influence and political power. Naturally, their wives bore the title of duchess.

In conversation, these distinctions were blurred; all nobles, regardless of rank, were addressed as Lord or Lady. On paper, however, the gap was staggering.

Francois, as a newly minted noble head, truly was a Lord—at the very bottom of the ladder. His position as House Speaker, while well-known, lacked any real political weight to elevate him.

Meanwhile, Sebastian, both a Duke and Royal Advisor, was second in influence only to the King and Wizard King.

It's like comparing a class representative to the student council president, Sebastian mused inwardly.

For someone like Francois—never particularly confident—it was only natural to grovel, even if it stings to do so.

Typically, Sebastian would have used the situation to his advantage—most Dukes would—but he didn't dislike people like Francois. In truth, he'd called Francois here today to ask for a favor and, perhaps, build a friendship. So, for once, he decided to throw the man a bone.

Sebastian glanced to his right where Acier sat. She perked up slightly under his gaze before he turned his attention back to Francois across the table.

"Lord Francois, you really should carry yourself with more dignity and pride. That is the expectation for a Baron of this kingdom."

"Baron?" Francois blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion. He was no such thing.

Acier's smile held a hint of mischief. "The King has been very pleased with the supporters of the last bill—particularly your performance as House Speaker."

"Naturally, rewards are in order," she continued lightly, "and, well, don't say you heard it from us, but it seems House Francois is in for a rather... decent promotion."

Francois' pupils dilated, and his heart leapt into his throat. His grip on the table tightened to steady himself as he stammered, "Y-you don't m-mean..."

Sebastian and Acier nodded in unison, their smiles warm but composed.

"We do," they said together before Acier leaned forward with a playful glint in her eye. "At the next royal assembly no less."

Sebastian finished with a soft smile. "Congratulations in advance... Baron Francois."

Francois' expression flickered through a range of emotions—shock, excitement, and disbelief—before settling into a quiet mix of relief and gratitude. He bowed his head, his voice hushed but steady. "You're far too kind, Lord Silva, Lady Acier."

Baron. A Baron. The word echoed in his mind like a drumbeat. Francois fought to keep his emotions in check, though he felt as though he was soaring. As a mere Lord—barely a noble—his title and House's status had always been precarious, vulnerable to the slightest misstep.

But a Baron? Unless he committed high treason, the worst consequence his House could suffer was a single demotion. They'd become Knights, but their noble status would remain intact.

Breathing room. Finally, for the first time in a long while, it felt as though House Francois could truly breathe.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Francois sat straighter, though his posture was noticeably more confident. "I admit," he began carefully, "being contacted through House Faust threw me off guard. I wasn't aware your... distinguished Houses were acquainted."

And even if they were, Francois thought, it surprised him that a mere Viscountcy like House Faust could act as an intermediary for a Dukedom.

Sebastian held up a hand, his expression easing into something less formal. "Please, Lord Francois, you need not be so stiff. I have a feeling—or, at least, I hope—that our Houses can enjoy a closer, more tightly-knit relationship in the future. That will be much more tolerable if we're a little less formal in one another's presence."

Francois gasped, his mind spinning. A chance to build a connection with a Dukedom?

There was no way he'd let this slip through his fingers.

He leaned back slightly in his seat, his smile shifting—less strained, more genuine. The tension he carried earlier melted just a bit as he nodded eagerly.

"I would love for that to be the case," Francois replied, his voice clear and sincere.

Sebastian smiled. "Well then, to answer your question—House Faust has recently established a magic tool workshop. I'm not sure if you've heard about it yet."

"I have, actually." Francois perked up, his tone carrying a touch of pride. "After the last court gathering, I had the honor of hosting Viscount Faust and Viscountess Lilith for dinner."

Scratching his cheek sheepishly, Francois added, "It came up in passing. Lord Faust even asked if I'd be interested in becoming a partner."

"Oh?" Sebastian raised a brow, his expression a picture of genuine curiosity. As if I don't already know. Sebastian had, of course, received a detailed account of that dinner from Draven Faust himself.

"And how did you respond?"

Francois' shoulders slumped a little. "I told him I'd consider it." Embarrassment flickered across his face, and Sebastian understood why.

As a newly-established noble house, House Francois was short on funds. Committing to an unfamiliar venture—especially one from House Faust, which had no known achievements in magical tool development—was a risky move for someone in Francois' position.

Sebastian's smile softened, though there was intent behind it. "Well, although it may be bold for me to say this, I'd recommend you take them up on their offer—or at the very least, visit their workshop and see the designs and prototypes for yourself."

Francois' brow shot up in surprise, but before he could respond, Acier chimed in with a bright smile. "House Silva will be partnering with the Fausts and becoming a preliminary investor for this venture."

She paused to let that sink in before leaning forward slightly, a sly look dancing in her eyes. "Some of the tools they're working on are truly revolutionary. There's a great deal of wealth and fame to be earned from this project, Lord Francois. And you should strike while the iron is hot. Many will undoubtedly flock to this workshop in the future to get their slice of the cake."

Her smile turned sharper. "You don't want to wait until there aren't even crumbs left."

Picking up from Acier's cue, Sebastian added the finishing touch. "Moreover, you wouldn't need to limit yourself to acting solely as an investor. I've seen that magic recorder Damnatio used." He gave Francois a pointed look. "If you work alongside House Faust to redesign that tool so it's affordable for the vast populace, you'd be staring at a mountain of wealth."

Francois gaped. "Y-you really think so...?"

He couldn't hide his doubt. The tool seemed useful for recording evidence—something relevant only to the Magic Parliament. Beyond that, he'd never imagined a broader purpose for it.

Sebastian shook his head gently, his tone calm but firm. "You're not seeing the big picture, Lord Francois. Imagine this: everyone out there would love a chance to record a moment in time—an actual memory, not just a painted portrait or sketch by an artist."

"Families preserving their most treasured moments," he began, gesturing subtly with his hand.

"The military," Acier interjected, "documenting battles and critical conflicts to report back to their superiors."

"Educators," Sebastian added, "recording lessons so they don't have to repeat them from scratch every time."

"Or even ordinary people," Acier finished with a soft chuckle, "who simply want to capture spontaneous moments they never want to forget."

Francois stilled, realization dawning like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. "I—I never thought of it that way..."

How could I have been so foolish? He felt a wave of self-reproach rise in his chest. All this time, he'd been sitting on a goldmine and dismissed it out of hand. Perhaps it was the kingdom's distaste for his House's magical attribute. That disdain had seeped into him, hadn't it? He'd buried his magic deep, using it only when necessary, never daring to imagine its commercial potential.

But no more.

Francois inclined his head deeply, a renewed determination flashing in his eyes. "Thank you for that reminder. With House Silva acting as a guarantor, I need not hesitate any longer. I will definitely take House Faust up on their kind offer."

Sebastian's smile lingered, but behind it, his thoughts were already two steps ahead. Soon, the magic recorder will make its mark as common technology. The age of the camera is here.

Sebastian mentally shook himself back to focus. "Well then, as much as I'd like to continue making small talk, we called you here for an express purpose. We're all busy people, so let's get to it, shall we?"

Francois hurriedly nodded, sitting up straighter in his seat. "Of course, your excellency. Please, how may I be of service to House Silva?"

Acier linked her arm with Sebastian's, giving his chest a light pat as she spoke, her voice calm yet purposeful. "This matter requires skills that only you and your House wield."

"Oh?" Francois raised a brow, his expression shifting to one of seriousness. "I take it, then, that since you've reached out to me specifically, you require the aid of my House's memory magic."

"Precisely." Acier nodded, and Sebastian mirrored her affirmation.

Francois gave a brisk nod. "That will be no issue. So, what is it you need? Have you perhaps caught a daring thief you wish to interrogate? Or maybe you're investigating some unruly servants and need to determine who is truly innocent?"

He spoke confidently, almost routinely. Francois was no stranger to commissions like these. Despite the aristocracy's distaste for his House's magic, they couldn't deny its utility. Nobles often overlooked their disdain when it came to solving matters of theft, treason, or suspicion—employing him or others in his House for similar tasks.

But this time, Sebastian shook his head. Acier was the one to clarify.

"Rather than House Silva, it would be more accurate to say this concerns a private matter that my husband and I are seeking assistance with."

Francois paused, brow furrowing in curiosity. "And what might that be?"

Acier exchanged a glance with Sebastian, who offered her an encouraging nod. She turned back, her expression shifting to something more solemn.

"My husband and I have been reflecting on our relationship—on how we came together—and realized there's been... a certain disconnect." She chose her words carefully, her tone soft but steady. "A difference, perhaps, in how we remember key events since our first meeting."

Francois listened intently, his lips pressed into a thin line, as she continued.

"We would like to dive into those memories—connecting both of ours—and uncover the truth of certain core events, starting from our first meeting up until..."

Acier hesitated, glancing at Sebastian, who finished for her. "Up until about thirteen days ago—my birthday."

Francois froze mid-breath, his eyes widening in shock. He leaned forward slightly, his voice trembling with disbelief. "You wish for me... to peer into your own minds?"

The two nodded in unison, their expressions resolute.

Francois stared at them incredulously before his tone turned somber, almost pleading. "Then you understand the gravity of what you're asking?" He raised a shaking finger, emphasizing his next words. "This will be a profound invasion—an intrusion—of your privacy."

He pressed on, more urgently now. "You are talking about nearly two decades of your lives—your memories, experiences, and..." He swallowed. "...your deepest, darkest secrets. All of it would become known to me."

He paused, his expression earnest. "I cannot, in good conscience, proceed without making that abundantly clear."

Acier's lips tightened into a slight grimace, but before she could respond, Sebastian shook his head, calm yet firm. "Hopefully, it won't come to that."

Francois blinked, clearly baffled. "What do you mean, Lord Silva? That's the principle of how memory magic operates. I would have to peer into your psyches to extract the truth of specific events."

He leaned back, his voice grave. "Whether you desire it or not, I will become privy to everything that happened over that time frame."

Sebastian raised a hand, signaling for calm. "Please, allow me to explain clearly what we're truly after before you make any further assumptions."

Francois immediately nodded, though his confusion hadn't abated. "Of course. Please go ahead."

Sebastian raised a finger, his tone calm yet firm. "First of all, my wife and I don't merely want our memories scanned and recalled. That's why she used the term dive."

"We want to relive those memories—experience every feeling, sensation, and buried emotion we've kept locked away in our hearts."

Francois's eyes widened at the declaration, but Sebastian pressed on, lifting a second finger. "Second, we're not asking to relive the entirety of two decades. Only the core memories—the events significant enough to define how our relationship has progressed."

Raising a third finger, Sebastian continued, his voice steady as though he were discussing something routine. "To do that, we need you to connect our minds—not just to each other, but also to our subconscious impressions of third parties. Even the souls of the departed who played critical roles in our lives. We want a breakdown of events as full and accurate as possible."

Francois's pupils dilated in disbelief, as though Sebastian had just described the most absurd idea in the world. But undeterred, Sebastian raised a fourth and final finger.

"And while all this is happening, we need you not to look into any of our memories." Sebastian's gaze locked on Francois. "As you said earlier, this concerns our privacy. These moments should remain between my wife and me—no one else."

Sebastian lowered his hand, and Acier nodded alongside him, her composed demeanor echoing his resolve. Both studied Francois, whose expression was a mixture of incredulity and bafflement.

The noble lord rubbed his temple, visibly trying to process the request. After a moment, he settled his hands in his lap, his voice blunt yet courteous.

"Lord Silva. Lady Acier." Francois took a deep breath. "I'll be frank. What you've just asked is far beyond my abilities. I wouldn't have the power to make one of these demands a reality—let alone all of them. And I am my House's premiere memory magic user."

His tone was firm, resolute. "This commission of yours... I'm sorry, but I can't help you here—"

"Hold on." Sebastian cut him off with an upraised hand. His voice remained calm but carried a note of quiet authority. "Don't be so quick to say no. I know your limits, Lord Francois. I would never dream of tasking you with something of this magnitude alone."

Francois hesitated, blinking in confusion. "I'll... have help?"

Both Sebastian and Acier nodded. Without another word, Sebastian reached into his grimoire satchel and withdrew his magic transponder. The top gem glowed brightly as he brought it to his lips.

"Come in."

Francois turned instinctively toward the doorway, which swung open a moment later. His gaze landed on two figures entering the room.

The first, Nozel Silva, was no stranger to him. But the second—a petite, purple-haired young woman walking in step beside Nozel—drew his curiosity.

"Lord Francois." Nozel offered a cool nod in greeting.

Francois quickly stood, his earlier disbelief replaced with polite formality as he returned the gesture. "Prince Nozel."

His attention shifted to the unfamiliar young woman. She smiled genially and curtsied with a grace that spoke of rigorous etiquette training. Sebastian and Acier exchanged an inward sigh of satisfaction at the flawless execution.

"Apologies, young miss," Francois said, raising a brow, "but I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance."

The girl's smile remained composed as she dipped into a formal curtsy once more. "Greetings, Lord Francois. My name is Dorothy Unsworth."

"Miss Unsworth." Francois bowed slightly in return, though his confusion lingered.

Nozel spoke next, his tone indifferent as though discussing the weather. "She is to be my fiancée."

Francois froze for a beat, before realization dawned on him. His gaze flicked back to the purple-haired girl, reassessing her with newfound respect.

So this is Prince Nozel's mysterious fiancée... and the future Matriarch of House Silva.

An inward sigh of relief escaped Francois. Good thing I wasn't rude in any way...

Nozel and Dorothy moved around the table, taking their positions behind Sebastian and Acier, who sat calmly. Francois eased back into his chair, his gaze flitting curiously between the two newcomers.

Sebastian cleared his throat lightly, drawing Francois's attention back to him.

"The one who will be assisting you," Sebastian began, "is Dorothy."

Francois wasn't surprised. He knew Nozel's magic was mercury-based—useful, yes, but wholly unrelated to this endeavor. The only logical conclusion was that the petite girl beside him would be the key. Still, curiosity burned in his gaze as he considered how exactly she could help.

Sebastian, ever perceptive, read Francois's thoughts like an open book and smiled. "Dorothy possesses a rare and archaic magic called Dream Magic. It allows her to manipulate dreams and even pull others into her own."

Francois gave Dorothy a more scrutinizing look, his eyebrows lifting slightly. As expected of Prince Nozel's fiancée. There's no way he'd marry someone ordinary.

But his gaze lingered longer as he noticed the peculiar hat adorning Dorothy's head. A moment of recognition flashed across his face, his well-educated mind making a quick connection.

"Is she from..."

"Yes," Sebastian confirmed, nodding. "Dorothy is not from the Clover Kingdom but from the Witches' Forest."

Francois's expression eased into understanding. Of course. Only witches would wield such strange and powerful magic.

"It is precisely because of that," Sebastian continued, reclaiming Francois's attention, "that Dorothy is, in essence, a foreigner. As you know, many within the aristocracy will not take kindly to that."

Nozel's frown deepened slightly, while Dorothy forced a strained, polite smile. Sebastian's tone remained calm as he elaborated.

"That's why, up until now, we've been doing everything in our power to keep her identity under wraps. At least until the engagement ceremony formalizes their relationship and ensures it is officially recognized, regardless of outside discontent."

Sebastian's gaze sharpened. "We hope you'll respect that wish of ours."

"Of course!" Francois hurriedly nodded, waving his hands dismissively with a good-natured smile. "You have my word. Your secret is safe with me—I swear it."

Nozel gave an approving nod, while Dorothy's smile softened into something more genuine.

"Now then..." Sebastian redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand. "One of Dorothy's spells, Dream Weaver, allows her to weave dreams that feel real—down to the smallest sensation."

"And you," he continued, turning his gaze to Francois, "have the spell Mémoire Absolue, which allows you to peer into others' subconscious and scan their memories."

Acier picked up seamlessly. "By combining these two spells, you two should theoretically be able to achieve exactly what we're after."

Francois hesitated, then forced a strained smile. "Perhaps... But that still doesn't change the fact that I would have to sift through your memories."

"And I as well." Dorothy's voice, soft but steady, pulled everyone's attention to her. She looked downward apologetically at Sebastian and Acier. "I would need a full vision of what I'm weaving to make this work."

Sebastian shook his head, waving off her concerns. "As I said before, don't be so quick to shoot us down or give up before even trying."

"That was just an example," he clarified, his voice steady with conviction. "The spells you use don't necessarily have to be Dream Weaver and Mémoire Absolue. Think of them as a starting point—a foundation to build on."

Acier nodded in agreement. "Compound and Union Magic doesn't simply mix two spells together to create something new. It brings out the full potential of each incorporated spell and unlocks unforeseen possibilities—sometimes unimaginable results—especially when the magics are deeply compatible."

She paused, her gaze intent. "Dream and Memory magic, both connected to the human mind and soul, should resonate with each other at a profound level."

"The things you could achieve together," Acier concluded, "could very well be god-like."

Nozel remained silent, though his subtle frown betrayed a flicker of unease. His gaze fell briefly on Dorothy as a quiet thought echoed in his mind: The only one compatible with Dorothy is me.

Sebastian, his arm still linked with Acier's, rose from his seat and gently helped her stand. He turned to face Francois before glancing at Dorothy and speaking softly, his voice steady with quiet authority.

"First, take a moment to talk and explain each other's magic. Demonstrate your spells and abilities. Trust in yourselves, and inspiration should come."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sharp as a fleeting thought crossed his mind. Or be bestowed upon you. But he kept the thought to himself.

Francois and Dorothy exchanged a brief, meaningful look. Francois then gave a small nod toward the couple, his voice polite but filled with resolve.

"Very well, Lord Silva, Lady Acier. I'll do my best." He scratched his head awkwardly. "Just... I hope you won't be disappointed if I can't live up to your expectations."

Dorothy mirrored his expression, offering a stiff nod.

Sebastian and Acier shared a glance, their faces lighting up in amused smiles. Acier giggled softly.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, her tone warm and light. "We're not those types of people."

With a casual wave, Sebastian opened the door to his study, guiding Acier out. But before stepping fully through, he turned back to face Francois and Dorothy.

"We'll leave you two to think and explore," he said, his tone shifting to one of professional detachment. "Should you need anything, Dorothy can contact me, or our servants will assist you."

He gestured to the table where a tray of untouched biscuits, desserts, and a pot of steaming tea awaited.

"Please, help yourselves."

Dorothy gave a polite nod, and with a soft smile, she reached for the teapot, pouring herself a cup of green tea.

Sebastian and Acier left the room, but as the door clicked shut behind them, Sebastian's eyes caught Nozel's. The younger prince met his gaze with a pointed, knowing look.

"I'll be staying here," Nozel stated, his voice firm with a trace of stubbornness.

Without waiting for a reply, he unceremoniously dropped into the chair next to Dorothy, sliding into the space Sebastian had just vacated.

Sebastian stifled the urge to roll his eyes, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Meanwhile, Acier's eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced at Dorothy, noticing the faint flush rising to her cheeks.

Sebastian closed the study door softly behind them, leaving the trio to their conversation. With his arm still linked with Acier's, they started walking down the hall together.

They passed through the top-floor living room, sunlight streaming in through tall windows, before reaching the hallway's end. Sebastian swung open a door, and they entered the master suite.

The curtains were drawn back, and the window was propped open, allowing golden rays of natural light to flood the room and illuminate every corner.

Acier settled at the edge of Sebastian's side of the bed, her brows pinching slightly as she looked at him with faint worry.

"Are you sure they'll succeed?" she murmured, biting her lip. "Even if magic is the realm of miracles and infinite possibilities, not everyone can pierce through that gap."

Sebastian chuckled, the sound light but steady, as he sank down beside her.

"True. But I don't think that applies here—not when our dear daughter-in-law already commands a world of her own."

Acier's mouth parted in momentary surprise before she giggled softly, shaking her head. "You're right. Maybe I've just been too close to notice. We've worked Dorothy like a horse ever since she came into our lives. We've used her magic at every slight convenience. I guess it slipped my mind how utterly nonsensical some of the things she's capable of are."

Sebastian placed a reassuring hand on her lap, his own chuckle rumbling low in his chest. "Don't feel bad—it happens to the best of us. Besides..."

His tone darkened slightly, catching Acier's attention. Her gaze sharpened as he continued.

"Didn't we just learn where grimoires—and by extension, magic—come from?"

"Heaven," Acier answered softly, narrowing her eyes as she nodded. "What about it?"

Sebastian's fingers traced absent patterns on the bedspread as he began again. "Well... didn't we also learn that House Silva—or at least you and I—has a secret guardian angel watching over us?"

"The Angel of Revelation," Acier murmured, her expression thoughtful.

Maybe not Him, Sebastian thought, though he nodded in agreement to her words. "If we're truly blessed by God, and magic is divine in origin, then if Francois and Dorothy find themselves stuck... perhaps they'll receive a sudden 'spark' of enlightenment to show them the way."

Acier froze mid-thought and looked up at him, incredulous. "That's what you're banking on?"

Sebastian merely shrugged, shooting her a small, confident smile. "It's time to find out how valued we are by Heaven. During my conversation with Azazel, he hinted at this—he said Dream and Memory magic need to come together for the best results."

"Well, I've done my part," Sebastian continued, leaning back slightly, his voice measured. "Now it's up to Dorothy's and Francois' skills—and, I suppose, a bit of fate and miracles."

"And fate and miracles should be under Heaven's authority," Acier added.

"Should be," Sebastian echoed, his words slipping out almost absentmindedly.

"Heh." Acier smirked, "how convenient."

Sebastian nodded, though his confidence wavered slightly at the edges. He wasn't 100% certain about fate—after all, Azazel had specifically mentioned a God of Fate.

So was that something outside of Heaven's authority, right now? He didn't understand.

Unaware of her husband's thoughts, Acier licked her lips, her throat tightening as unease began to settle in her chest. A bead of sweat traced along her temple. "I don't know whether to feel thankful or... worried if everything unfolds as you've said. After all..."

There's no such thing as a free lunch, she thought grimly. A price is always extracted for what's bestowed. The problem is—when the debt comes due, will Sebastian or I be able to pay it?

And even if they could... could they bear the cost of what they'd have to give up?

Sebastian ran a hand through her ponytail, his touch gentle but grounding. "Let's not think about that right now. That's a problem for the future."

He offered her a small smile. "For now, let's focus on the present—and the reason I brought you back here."

"Oh?" Acier's eyebrows arched with interest before a sly smile tugged at her lips. "Do tell me, dear husband, why you've dragged your wife back to the bedroom so early in the morning."

Her gaze flicked downward to his groin, an amused glint in her eye as she scratched her cheek. "Don't tell me you've finally given in and decided to man up?"

She looked back up to his face, only to pause at his unimpressed expression. With a huff, she pouted and flopped back, clearly bored already.

Sebastian sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead like a man dealing with the impossible. "Well, I am 'manning up,' as you so eloquently put it—but not about that."

"Hmm?" Acier perked back up, curiosity rekindling as she leaned in. "And what, pray tell, do you mean by—"

She froze mid-sentence, her words cutting off abruptly as Sebastian reached into his pocket and withdrew a rectangular card.

Her breath hitched. The Lovers' Card. Number 6 of the Major Arcana.

Her eyes zeroed in on the card as warmth softened her expression. A fond smile spread across her lips, and she reached out for it instinctively.

But Sebastian pulled his arm back, just out of reach.

"Sebby, what are you—"

Her voice faltered as her eyes widened. The card began to glow—bright, vibrant hues of aqua blue and soft pink swirling to life as Sebastian channeled his mana into it.

Her heartbeat quickened, pounding heavily in her chest. Thump! Thump! Thump!

The card slipped from his hand, floating effortlessly in front of her. Acier watched, mesmerized, as it began to spin clockwise, its light dancing across the room.

Her heart hammered against her ribs as Sebastian's calm, steady voice reached her ears.

"You said we both know how I feel. You asked why I refuse to say three measly words—eight letters."

The card's spin slowed, and Acier remained frozen, her gaze locked on it, her chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths.

"Well," Sebastian continued, his tone softer now, "I've thought carefully about what you said... and I realized you're right."

The card slowed further, its light pulsing gently in rhythm with her racing heartbeat.

"You would've gotten your answer eventually from the memory dive," he admitted, his voice steady but earnest. "But this... this is something I need to say to you myself. I won't let the dive say it for me."

The card came to a perfect stop—upright, glowing softly like the calm after a storm.

Sebastian's voice rang clear, perfectly synchronized with its stillness. "I love you, Acier Silva. The way you want to be loved."

Time froze.

Acier sat there, utterly motionless, like a statue carved from flesh and bone. Slowly, almost mechanically, she turned her head to the left to look at him.

Her face was a deep crimson, her cheeks aflame with heat, and her watery eyes shimmered with emotion she couldn't contain.

"W-what a-are you d-doing?" Acier stammered, pointing a trembling finger at him. "I t-thought we agreed to have our talk first! T-this is t-too sudden—you could've at least given me a chance to prepare!"

Sebastian only smiled fondly as he reached out and gently wiped the tears brimming in her eyes.

"First of all," he said softly, "I wanted to see your genuine, unfiltered reaction. That only happens when you're caught off guard."

"Y-you j-jerk!" Acier shouted, her face flushed as her voice cracked.

Sebastian chuckled at her outburst, his laughter rich and unbothered. "Ha ha ha..."

Then, as his laughter subsided, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. His tone softened into something more serious, almost solemn.

"Besides, is there even a point in having that talk anymore?"

Acier's pupils dilated at his words. "... What do you mean?" she whispered cautiously.

Sebastian's steady gaze met hers. "I mean exactly what I said."

Her body tensed as his words grew heavier. "After all, I already know what you want to ask me."

Acier stiffened further as Sebastian continued, his voice calm but piercing. "You want to know who I really am, right?"

Her breath hitched, her trembling worsening with each word.

"I seem like Sebastian... but I also don't. Isn't that right?"

She forced a shaky nod, tears threatening to spill as the truth she'd buried clawed its way to the surface.

Sebastian offered a small, reassuring smile. "Well, this is the last thing I want to tell you myself—not through the memory dive."

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing along her cheek as his voice dropped to a whisper.

"I am your Sebby."

Acier froze, her entire body locking up.

"I am your husband."

Her hands clutched at his chest, gripping his shirt like it was the only thing holding her together.

"I am the father of your children."

Acier's tears fell freely now as a soft sob escaped her lips.

"And this dream—this dive—will prove that to you, and to us. Alright?"

Acier buried her face against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. After a moment, she raised her head, her lips trembling but curved into a fragile, shaky smile.

"Alright," she whispered.

Their foreheads pressed together once more as Sebastian continued, his voice steady and resolute.

"And even if the worst-case scenario happens... if it doesn't come to be, I won't run. Not from you. Not from this family. I'll find another way to prove to you that I'm me."

Acier closed her eyes, her lips tugging upward as a hoarse giggle slipped out. "I'll hold you to that."

"Mmm-hmm," Sebastian hummed softly, his agreement filled with warmth. "You do that."

Acier pulled back slightly, looking at him through damp lashes with wry amusement as she wiped her tears away. "You know, it's like every time we're alone in a bedroom nowadays, you make me cry."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, but then a sly smile curved his lips. "See? Same old Sebastian. Making Acier Silva cry is my specialty."

Her face twisted into an incredulous scowl before she reached over and pinched his cheek hard. "You're terrible, you know that, right?"

"I do," Sebastian replied with a small wince, though he made no move to stop her. Instead, he gently clasped her cheek, his touch so tender it left her momentarily breathless.

"It's not bad to cry," he said softly, his thumb tracing along her face. "You've been holding sixteen years of pain and sorrow inside. Think of it as finally letting those dams and walls around your heart break loose."

Acier narrowed her eyes, unimpressed as she pinched him harder. "Now you're trying to justify it and act all cool, huh?"

Sebastian's confident expression faltered into something sheepish. Before he could respond, Acier grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward her.

"Just kiss me, you idiot."

Sebastian blinked, stunned, before letting out a resigned sigh. "Fine, fine. Whatever you wan—"

She cut him off mid-sentence as her lips crashed into his, silencing him completely.

For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of their connected breaths and the warmth of their embrace.

—

Francois looked around in awe from the floating sofa. The infinite expanse of Dorothy's Glamour World stretched endlessly before him, its hues of purple and pink merging into an otherworldly spectacle. Across from him sat Dorothy and Nozel, equally at ease as they floated through the surreal space.

Moments ago, Dorothy had dragged him into this dreamscape to demonstrate her power. Francois couldn't have imagined a little girl commanding an entire world of her own, a place where anything she envisioned could materialize into reality.

She had conjured an elegant tea set and an array of desserts that not only looked real but tasted exquisite, filling Francois's stomach and even replenishing his mana reserves. He watched her with growing incredulity as she casually summoned tidal waves, raised volcanic mountains, and painted stormy skies brimming with thunderclouds. She even brought mythical creatures from lore to life—beings that seemed as real as the ground beneath his feet.

Francois stared at her, astounded. He'd thought House Silva was being overly cautious about Dorothy's abilities. But now? He realized they were grossly underestimating her. In a world where magic was everything, the revelation of her power would silence any who dared question her worth or qualifications as Nozel's fiancée.

In fact, Francois mused with some discomfort, if their positions were reversed, Dorothy would be leagues above Nozel—or anyone else, for that matter.

"I can hear your thoughts, you know," Dorothy's voice chimed in his mind, her tone lilting and playful.

Francois stiffened, only to exhale in relief as he caught the mischievous smile on her lips. But the relief was short-lived when Nozel shot him a sharp look, his narrowed eyes brimming with unspoken warnings.

Francois's heart raced. This isn't good for my health, he thought wryly, clutching his chest.

Finally, he spoke up, unable to suppress his growing concerns. "Miss Dorothy—"

"I know what you're about to say," Dorothy interrupted, twirling a lock of her hair with casual ease. Her grin widened. "I don't even need to read your thoughts for this one."

Francois hesitated, thrown off by her precognition.

"You're wondering," Dorothy continued, "if I have such seemingly omnipotent power, why do we even need you? Why can't I just fulfill Mom and Dad's requests myself?"

Her casual reference to Lord and Lady Silva as "Mom and Dad" nearly made Francois choke, but he managed an awkward nod.

Dorothy's grin faded, replaced by a more somber expression. Her voice softened as she answered.

"The key word is seemingly. I'm not actually omnipotent here."

Of course you're not, Francois thought. That'd be too ridiculous... too terrifying.

Dorothy raised a brow at him, making him curse his inability to control his mental commentary.

"My ability to conjure things," she explained, "comes from my imagination. And imagination relies on understanding and reality. I can create what I understand, but my knowledge has limits."

She sighed, rubbing her temple in frustration. "For example, I can read thoughts and memories, but I can't dig up deeply buried ones or piece together fragmented truths. That's why we need you."

Francois nodded, speaking aloud for Nozel's benefit. The prince's increasingly annoyed expression hinted at his confusion.

"So, you can replicate almost any magic or ability within this space," Francois clarified, "but the precision and strength depend entirely on how much you grasp the subject matter."

"Exactly," Dorothy said, her tone exasperated. "But even if I were omnipotent, it wouldn't matter!"

Francois tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Dorothy hesitated, glancing at Nozel. He gave her a reluctant nod before answering on her behalf.

"Glamour World has one major drawback," Nozel said, his voice calm but firm.

"What kind of drawback?" Francois leaned forward, intrigued.

Nozel's gaze flicked to Dorothy, who forced a strained smile and nodded again.

"All who fall asleep in Glamour World," Nozel explained, "enter eternal sleep."

The weight of his words hit Francois like a brick. He froze, struggling to process the implication.

"Oh," he muttered, realization dawning on him.

Sebastian and Acier wanted to relive their memories, to experience them as they had before. But if they did so here, in Glamour World, it would cost them their lives.

Dorothy groaned aloud, throwing her arms up in frustration. "I can't even use my trump card!"

Her voice echoed through the space, raw with defeat. The very ability that defined her magic, the one she relied on most, was now rendered useless.

Francois looked at her with a pang of pity. "Not to mention," he added, "we have no clue how to connect third parties to the dream."

Dorothy slumped back in her seat, nodding grimly. Her fingers tapped against the armrest as she racked her brain for solutions.

Francois mirrored her posture, his mind equally burdened. Nozel, watching the two of them, frowned and leaned back as well, his annoyance giving way to helplessness.

Dorothy, attuned to his emotions, sensed his frustration, as well as... other thoughts, thoughts that concerned her and fought off a creeping blush. She shook her head, trying to refocus her thoughts, but her growing feelings only made the task harder.

—

Beyond the grassy plains and wooden huts of Heaven stood a grand temple, its design reminiscent of ancient Roman and Greek architecture. Massive stone pillars lined its facade, their surfaces inscribed with archaic runes and intricate murals that seemed to tell forgotten tales. The temple's patterned stone floor stretched out like a mosaic, guiding the eye toward its heart—a throne of enigmatic grandeur.

The throne, carved from stone, appeared both eternal and alive. It oscillated between extremes, shifting seamlessly from the towering size of a mountain to the humble proportions of a desk chair. Its presence radiated an unspoken power, commanding attention without uttering a word.

Beneath the throne, a figure knelt—or so it seemed. A luminous white glow enveloped them, transforming their form into an indistinct silhouette. Every detail about them was concealed—gender, clothing, any defining features—all swallowed by the ethereal light. Even their posture was uncertain; were they truly kneeling, or was it merely an illusion?

A sigh resonated through the throne room, low and weighty, breaking the silence. The sound carried an unmistakable masculine quality, suggesting the figure might be male.

"That child is too daring," the figure spoke, his voice detached and void of emotion. "That child is too bold." Testing me like this, and fishing me out.

The words seemed to carry a hint of disapproval, yet the tone was so neutral it was impossible to discern whether he genuinely took issue with "the child's" actions.

Slowly, the figure extended an arm—or what seemed to be an arm—emerging from the glow. In his grasp materialized a large golden quill, its shaft gleaming and crowned with a pristine white feather. Before him appeared a book, plain and unadorned, with black covers that exuded an understated authority.

The book floated weightlessly, its seemingly endless papyrus pages flipping with a life of their own. Thousands—perhaps millions—of pages turned in rapid succession, yet it stopped on a blank one still near the book's beginning.

The figure began to write. The symbols etched by the golden quill shimmered, their script identical to the hieroglyphic language of the Primeval Gospel. If Sebastian, Acier, or Anslem had been present, they would have immediately recognized it.

Were a Pope standing over the figure's shoulder, deciphering the hieroglyphs, the text would have read:

"The blessed of the Oneiroi, within the company of both the eldest offspring of my newest blessed and the leader of the last dregs of Mnemosyne's descendants, shall achieve a moment of enlightenment. She will realize—"

—

Back in Glamour World, Dorothy's eyes snapped open, a sudden light of inspiration igniting within them. She leapt to her feet with such energy that her abrupt movement startled both Nozel and Francois.

"Hey!" Dorothy exclaimed, her beaming smile directed at Francois. Her excitement froze him in place as she continued. "I just got the greatest idea!"

Her expression sparkled with certainty, as if her newfound idea was a stroke of genius destined to succeed.

Author's Notes:

[1] Damnit, I was originally wanting to finally get to the dream, but this Chapter kept extending itself

[2] Sorry to fanfiction users, I uploaded the Chapter to the doc manager yesterday, but forgot to actually publish it under my story. I guess the silver lining is, you get two Chapters today

[3] As always feel free to join the discord at: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar