Published: August 3, 2025
I am Sylvester. A 26-year-old man in the prime of life, currently holding the troublesome position of Aub Ehrenfest.
Just now, I finished the unpleasant task of condemning my own flesh and blood and tearing a family apart. Praise me for that.
Truly, if no one told me “you’re not wrong,” I don’t think I could keep going. With that thought, I watched the figure of a parent kneeling before their own daughter.
“Thank you very much for today. I sincerely hope we meet again someday.”
Rosemine bowed deeply from a standing position, seeing off those who had once been family.
It was an unfamiliar gesture. When giving thanks to the gods, one would typically prostrate themselves fully on both knees. I had never before seen someone bow their head while standing. It definitely made me realize she was a child carrying memories of a different world.
Still, even though the gesture was unfamiliar, the emotions contained within it came through overwhelmingly. The gratitude and feelings toward family were almost visible. Knowing that I was the one who tore a family that cared for each other apart, the scene of farewell stabbed sharp pain into me.
I stared at the door as it clicked shut, and a small, solitary figure wavered unsteadily in front of it.
I slightly lowered my gaze to avoid looking, and at the same moment, Ferdinand, who was sitting beside me, stood up. As if he had anticipated it, Ferdinand strode over, reached out his arm, and caught the swaying Rosemine.
Without hesitation, he turned toward the door and called out sharply.
“Fran, let her in!”
At Ferdinand’s sharp voice, the gray priest who had been waiting beyond the door swiftly entered. If I recall correctly, he was Rosemine’s attendant, who until just now had been so injured that moving pained her.
“Myne-sama!”
As he rushed to Rosemine’s side, I could see remnants of the blessing light. Like that father, he had likely received the blessing light himself, as there were no visible injuries. His anxious demeanor revealed how deeply attached he was to his mistress.
If the blessing light had reached even the gray priest attendant, I wondered just how far its range extended. As I witnessed today, if something happened to someone important, Rosemine could easily cause immense mana to spiral out of control. I would have to investigate how many people the blessing had touched.
“Don’t worry too much. She’s just overusing her mana.”
Saying so, Ferdinand reached for a medicine pouch he always carried and poured some sort of medicine into Rosemine’s mouth. Could it be that horribly bitter medicine? Though effective, forcing that down an unconscious child’s throat was cruel. Ferdinand only ever considered efficiency. Poor Rosemine.
“Fran, take her back to her room and put her to bed. I will come to explain the next steps tomorrow afternoon. Gather all the attendants.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fran carried the limp, unconscious Rosemine and left the room.
That scene somehow overlapped in my mind with a memory from the past.
“Arnaud, bring tea. Then stay here.”
As I watched Ferdinand give orders to a plain-looking attendant he valued highly, I whispered to Karlstedt.
“Hey, Karlstedt. Don’t you think the more you look at Rosemine, the more she resembles Blau?”
“Blau? Ah, the Shumil you used to keep.”
Shumil was a lovable demonic beast, popular among nobles as a pet—small and snorting adorably. I had one when I was young, but Blau was fragile.
Rosemine and Blau share the gleaming fur between black and blue, the curly golden eyes, their frailty, and how they are more attached to Karlstedt than to me.
Seeking agreement, I glanced at Karlstedt, who frowned deeply.
“You say she’s attached to me, but that’s your fault. You bothered her so much that she once nearly died. She got attached to me to survive.”
“Don’t say such hurtful things. I did take good care of her.”
“When you were a child, you really didn’t know how to be gentle. Chasing her around, holding her too tight, mashing her about—that’s how small animals end up nearly dead.”