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Second Floor of the Manor
Sunlight streamed through the glass windows, painting the corridor in gold and outlining Hilda's silhouette against the light.
Sylphie froze mid-step on the stairs, her crimson eyes fixed on the scene.
The bunny-eared maid, noticing her hesitation, gently took her hand and guided her up to where Hilda stood.
Hilda herself remained still, her gaze seemingly lost in whatever lay beyond the window.
Sylphie followed her line of sight—through the glass, she could see the courtyard below, where four familiar figures sat in conversation.
Her breath hitched.
So the maids bringing towels earlier… That was arranged.
And the bunny girl's invitation—along with the other maids' reactions when Allen refused—now carried a different weight.
Whose invitation was it, really?
"Allen-sama declined to accompany us… My apologies, madam."
The bunny maid clasped her hands and bowed deeply.
Hilda blinked, as if snapping out of deep thought, then turned with a faint smile.
"Ah, forgive me. I was lost in reflection. No matter—I saw. And as I told you earlier, Alfie, his presence wasn't necessary."
Her voice was crisp, like the edge of a blade, yet her words were warm—almost kind. There was an undeniable charm to her, one that even Sylphie, as another woman, couldn't help but feel drawn to.
"You have other duties, don't you? Go on. And tell Lil to keep an eye on the lesson below. If there's another… incident like earlier, assist promptly."
The bunny maid glanced at Sylphie, then excused herself with a smile.
Left alone with Hilda, Sylphie stiffened, her mind racing.
Allen's mother… Why did she call for me?
Hilda studied her for a moment before speaking—her first words unexpectedly disarming.
"My apologies for Eris' behavior, Sylphie. She can be… unrefined. But her heart is in the right place. I hope you'll look after her in the future."
Sylphie blinked.
"O-Oh, no, Eris is… She's wonderful. Honest, and… kind, in her own way."
Hilda's eyebrows rose slightly. Then, with a quiet chuckle, she reached down and took Sylphie's hand.
"Your hair… Such a rare shade of white. And your eyes—full of spirit." She tilted her head. "Come. Let's find you a change of clothes. You've worn the same dress since yesterday—you must have packed in a hurry."
Sylphie floundered, but her feet moved on their own as Hilda guided her forward.
"I—I didn't mean to impose—"
"No need for nerves. Compared to the Boreas family, I was just a minor noble once. Only received one invitation to their gatherings before he took notice of me." Hilda's smile wavered for a fraction of a second. "…Took quite a few 'chance encounters' before I finally married in."
She exhaled, then continued lightly.
"Point being—you're far more remarkable than I was at your age."
A pause. Then, as if shifting topics over tea:
"Before marrying into this house, I loved sewing. Even now, I sometimes make my own dresses. But Eris refuses to wear them—too frilly, she says—and the family tailors handle her wardrobe anyway. So my closet is full of pieces no one ever sees."
Her fingers tightened slightly around Sylphie's.
"Would you… humor me and try one on?"
Sylphie met Hilda's deep gray eyes—so much like Allen's—and before she knew it, she nodded.
"Y-Yes. I mean—forgive my manners. I'm not used to noble speech, but… I'd be honored."
Hilda's smile deepened, recalling the glance Sylphie had sent her way at lunch.
"No forgiveness needed."
The Courtyard
"It's fine."
Eris' head snapped up at Allen's words, her exhaustion forgotten, eyes glowing.
Allen suppressed the urge to ruffle her hair and continued.
"While Water God and Sword God Styles seem incompatible at a glance, they can complement each other. Even cover weaknesses."
Ghislaine's brow arched.
"Oh?"
"Watch."
Allen closed his eyes and sank into Feeling the Flow.
The world drained of color.
Around him, three shadowed "rocks" stood in a gray sea—their postures mirroring his audience:
One bouncing with excitement (Eris).
One leaning forward, curious (Rudeus).
One unmoving, edges sharp as blades (Ghislaine).
Above them, streaks of white light fell like shooting stars.
Allen's voice rippled across the colorless water.
"Close your eyes."
"Feel the world shift. The moment it does… send your intent there."
His focus locked onto one falling light—
—and his eyes snapped open.
Color flooded back.
The light in his vision?
A single leaf, drifting downward—
—split cleanly by his blade before his next words landed.
"Open your eyes."
"The cut is already made."
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 200 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 95 power stones I will publish the next chapter.