Meeting

Acier Silva POV:

"That bastard still hasn't visited you?!" The words echoed in the dim light of the room, filled with an urgency that contrasted sharply with my feeble state. As I lay there on what felt like my deathbed, a frail smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I turned my head slowly, ignoring the sharp ache that radiated through my body, seeking solace in the familiar presence before me. There stood Aurelia Silva—the girl who was once my sister, now a proud Vermillion by marriage.

In her, I saw reflections of myself. The unmistakable silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, while her eyes, a softer pink, reminded me of my youngest daughter's innocent gaze. While we shared many physical traits, the essence of who we were set us apart. Aurelia's spirit burned bright and outspoken—a trait that may have been ignited further by her time in the joyous chaos of House Vermillion. Even as a child, she had an indomitable spark that made her stand out, her voice often rising above the fray and bringing life to the silences around her.

I glanced at the tiny bundle in her arms, stirring from a light slumber, roused by her mother's fervent utterance. Sweet little Mimosa, coiled up like a radiant sunbeam, boasted soft Vermillion locks and bright yellow eyes that sparkled with curiosity. I could only hope she inherited her father's innate sense of awareness—otherwise, it seemed certain that she and Noelle would butt heads more often than not, like wildflowers in a tempest.

My heart ached as I recalled Noelle, my youngest, nestled securely in Nozel's arms, her delicate frame shielded against the world's turmoil. He had finally taken a much-needed respite from that relentless self-imposed training to come and see me. It pained me to think that I would be unable to converse with her, to share my thoughts or experiences as a mother should. She wouldn't even remember my face, leaving a hollow gnawing of guilt in my chest. The burdens of a curse weighed heavily upon me, and I lamented the unfairness of it all—this affliction that dictated my fate and sequestered my love from my children.

Rumors abounded, whispers circulating among the ranks of our family and acquaintances, suggesting my demise was a consequence of my choice to bear Noelle. But how could I clarify their misguided assumptions? Any attempt to set the record straight would only subject Nozel to the cruel repercussions of a devil's curse he bore, and I would never wish that upon him. It was maddening that they chose to forget the truth of my health following her birth. They opted for twisted narratives over the reality of my situation, ignoring the cries and pleas of a mother who fought for her child's right to know her.

It was infuriating yet tragically ironic. Noelle, the daughter of the princess of the battlefield, was to be subjected to a lifetime of scorn for her vulnerability; how foolish of them to believe that she could be anything less than a tower of strength. The disdainful glances she received from servants, and even from Nebra and Solid, were a sting I wished I could shield her from, at least while I still drew breath. I knew that the moment I was gone, the floodgates would open, and the scorn of those who desired to see her falter would rush over her like a tempest.

I clung to the hope that Nozel would uphold his promise to protect his sister. As for her father, indifference would be his only gift to her. He would neither lash out in rage nor extend a protective hand; Noelle would become just another shadow in his distant gaze, placed among his other three children. Strangely, I found solace in this thought, for amidst the many potential predators circling around my sweet girl, he would be the least of her worries.

But it was Nozel's clenched jaw and brewing anger that caught my eye when that despicable man's name slipped from Aurelia's lips. I felt the tension ripple through Nebra and Solid, as they braced themselves for a feud sparked by the mention of their father, and I couldn't help but feel a sharp annoyance bubble within me. I turned my gaze back to Aurelia, forcing my hoarse voice through the constricted remnants of my strength. "A—Aurelia… j-just... d-drop... i-it," I murmured, straining with each syllable. Even for someone as forthright as her, the message seemed to resonate. She caught the weight of my frustration reflected in my eyes, offering a sheepish nod in understanding before redirecting her gaze to the floor, safely abdicating the topic.

The ceiling loomed above me as I lay on my bed, its sterile whiteness offering no comfort against the encroaching shadows of my reality. Solid's and Nebra's hands gripped mine tightly, their voices a muted murmur in the background, blending into the thick fog of exhaustion that enveloped my mind. My body, slick with perspiration yet frigid to the touch, felt trapped in an agonizing limbo, oscillating between arctic cold and simmering fever. I glanced at my wrist, astonished to see the vibrant hue of my skin replaced by an unsettling pallor, one that could easily prompt the casual observer to mistake me for a lifeless shell. The heaviness beneath my eyelids made the world blur into an incoherent haze.

So, this is it, huh? I'm really a goner. One would think that someone like me—a scion of proud magic knights, a warrior known for valor and fame earned on countless battlefields—would have made peace with this fate. I had always understood the stakes of violence; if you kill, you must be prepared to die. But the truth of my situation struck me with a brutal clarity: I was not ready. I wanted to be present for my children, for Noelle. I yearned to witness Nozel and Solid navigate the tumult of young love, to see Nebra and Noelle exchange vows with their lovers under a sunlit sky, to tease my children about their first crushes, and to bond with Nozel's and Solid's girlfriends. The thought of closing my eyes, only to drift into an eternal sleep, terrified me. I feared with every fiber of my being that I would never again see my precious jewels.

Then, perhaps stirred by my sister's presence, my thoughts turned inevitably to him—the man who had snatched hope from my grasp time and again, delighting in the very pain he inflicted. It struck me as a grim irony that the dancing princess of the battlefield—a title I had worn with both pride and grace—was cowed by the very man who should have been my partner. Sebastian. The thought of defying him felt foreign and impossible; after all, he wasn't a magic knight. Maybe that's why I found it so challenging to confront him as I would an enemy on the battlefield. At the end of the day, he was my husband. My battles with him were tragically limited to words and wits—skills in which I perpetually faltered, my heart shattered time and again by his cold indifference. My once unbreakable spirit, honed on the battlefield, felt like fragile clay, easily manipulated by his presence.

What a cruel man you are, Sebastian. Even if your heart no longer harbors love for me...not anymore...is it too much to ask for a single visit? After all, there was a time when we shared the sanctity of vows, a time when we were... something more. I snapped my head away from those thoughts, mentally shaking myself free. There was no use in dwelling on spilled milk. Perhaps it would be wise to give him a taste of his own medicine and demand a divorce before I slipped away from this world. His precious hold on House Silva would disintegrate, leaving him as nothing more than a shadow. A dark, juvenile fantasy, I mused with a spiteful grin—but even in that fleeting moment, practicality reigned, and I recognized the futility of such thoughts.

If he were to disappear from my children's lives as I departed from this world, I knew too well the dangers that would descend upon them. There were more than enough nobility and dealers from the Kira family poised to snatch House Silva for themselves at the first sign of weakness. Despite his flaws, Sebastian was a shield for my children, and my eldest son, Nozel, though remarkably gifted, was merely a teenager fresh from acquiring his grimoire. Asking him to protect his siblings, to carry the burden of our lineage alone, would break him. It would crush the very spirit that nestled within him, rendering him helpless against those who would prey on our family's misfortune.

I returned Solid's grip with a gentle squeeze, forcing a smile that felt grotesque as I continued to gaze at the ceiling. "S-Sorry, S-Solid… Mommy wasn't... l-listening. Can you... repeat that... a-again?" I waited for him to express his point once more, but the words never came.

Perhaps he didn't hear me. "Solid?" I called out again, straining to raise my voice despite the searing pain that lanced through me. I waited and waited, but only silence greeted my ears. Confusion creased my brow as I turned to look at my strangely quiet son. It was then that I noticed something unsettling—he wasn't even focused on me. Solid's gaze was fixed across the room, his pupils dilated, his mouth slightly agape. A cocktail of surprise, trepidation, and a hint of fear coursed through me. Ignoring the migraines pulsating through my head, I followed his line of sight, and that was when I saw him—my husband.

Sebastian stood framed in the doorway, and despite the vehement hatred Nozel held for him, I recognized the traces of his regal demeanor mirrored in my eldest. My husband, from whom Solid had inherited not only his physical features but also the legacy of his magic. A part of me had resigned to the notion that he wouldn't come to see me, perhaps only willing to pay his respects once I was entombed beneath a gravestone. Yet here he was. A husband, visiting his dying wife—such a notion should be natural, but it felt so strangely misaligned with the man who perpetually wore irritation like armor. The silence in the room was so palpable it felt as though the very air between us held its breath, reflecting the disbelief we all shared.

I watched as Sebastian whispered something to Alfred, who hurried away carrying a heavy load, glancing back at me with a look tinged with uncertainty. I braced myself for the sharp twist of anguish that I had come to expect from him—the reassurance that I should not harbor hope. I braced for him to turn around, to shatter what little optimism had ignited in my heart. But instead, there he stood, crossing the threshold and stepping into the room

Sebastian Silva POV:

Ignoring the palpable tension that filled the air like a suffocating shroud, I ordered Alfred to see to the task I had entrusted him with before stepping tentatively into Acier's room. I could sense the myriad of eyes bearing down on me, but my focus was singular, inescapably drawn to her.

In the stories told in manga and anime, she always appeared unfazed, glowing with confidence even in her illness. But reality told a harsher tale. Acier lay frail upon her deathbed, her body a shadow of its former self, so thin and ghostly pale one could easily mistake her for a specter. Sweat glimmered on her forehead, yet I hesitated to pull the covers away. Even in this weakened state, I could feel the icy chill radiating off her; she was so very cold. Her once-vibrant lilac eyes seemed dulled, heavy bags beneath them betraying restless nights—either she lacked sleep or, perhaps, had avoided it altogether, fearing that slumber might seal her fate. Megicula and Vanica... just wait. I clenched my fists unconsciously, my resolve solidifying. I'll make—she'll make you pay.

As I took in the bewildered expression on her face, a flicker of guilt washed over me; how could she be so surprised by my presence? The looks on the faces of our children and my sister-in-law mirrored her own shock, but those quickly morphed into a storm of anger. Nozel, in particular, shot me deathly daggers while cradling his infant sister, Noelle, in his arms. The weight of their collective emotions made me feel as though I might kneel under the pressure. I fought the instinct to rub my temples or twiddle my thumbs—old habits that clung to me from another life—and instead maintained my regal and impassive demeanor.

Damn it, you left me quite the mess, Sebastian. I forced a steady voice through my mounting frustration. "Everyone but Nozel should leave. I want a word with the two of you." To my dismay, no one moved. Confusion tightened my brows. Even if you harbor disdain for me, is it too much to ask for a moment alone with your mother and eldest son?

"Get out." The commanding voice pierced the air at my side.

Huh? I turned to see Aurelia, perched on a chair, with her daughter, Mimosa, cradled in her lap. The infant was undeniably adorable, and I would have been tempted to pinch her soft cheeks, if not for the fury radiating from her mother, who thrust a finger in my direction as if to emphasize her demand.

"...Why?" I could barely manage a single word, and judging by the bulging veins on Aurelia's forehead, I knew I had misstepped.

"Sister—" Acier's hoarse voice tried to intervene, but Aurelia charged on undeterred.

"HOW CAN THIS NO-SHOW FATHER, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING HUSBAND, UGLY RAT-TAILED, HEARTLESS GRINCH OF A MAN, SHOW UP AFTER NEARLY A YEAR SINCE YOU GOT SICK, AND TELL US TO GET LOST?!"

The insult caught me off guard. "Ugly" was a bit too much, wasn't it? Nozel's enthusiastic nodding confirmed just how delighted he was with his aunt's tirade, and Acier's silent acceptance of this exchange did little for my already tenuous feelings of being loved or respected. I had to clamp down on my impulse to pout at their reactions.

Clearing my throat, I sought to redirect their ire back towards me. "I apologize if I came off as rude," I started, cautiously glancing at their incredulous expressions, each looking at me as if I were some extraterrestrial being. Damn it. It was just an apology. I've issued countless apologies in my life—none particularly sincere—but it shouldn't be so difficult to express remorse.

Ignoring the throbbing ache in my head, I pressed on. "It's only for a moment I ask you to step out of the room. I need to speak to them privately."

"What do you want with me?" Nozel's voice reached me from the side. I was taken aback that he felt inclined to speak to me at all. Perhaps I wouldn't have to move mountains to elicit a response after all.

"Because this involves you as well," I replied simply, watching as he raised an eyebrow, skepticism gleaming in his eyes. I knew I had never shown much interest in him, aside from leveraging his magical prowess to boast at royal gatherings as if every accomplishment was solely due to my guidance. "And I don't think you're willing to leave your mother alone with me," I added, observing how he instinctively tightened his grip on Noelle while his other hand unconsciously drifted toward his satchel, where his grimoire lay.

With a reluctant, indifferent nod, he acknowledged my assessment. He was obviously unwilling to hand off his sister, not trusting Nebra or Solid to tend to the embodiment of much of their ire. I finished, "She can stay; it's not like she'd understand anyway." Yet again, I found myself suppressing a curse at their mixed reactions to my so-called "cooperation."

Silence enveloped the room once more, stretching uncomfortably as I struggled to maintain my composure. I found myself tapping my right foot in impatience, arms crossed tightly over my chest. Thankfully, Acier chose this moment to cooperate. With barely veiled encouragement passed among her, Nebra, Solid, and Aurelia, she motioned for them to leave. My children hurried past me, eager to escape a room that crackled with tension, where their father and eldest brother looked poised to erupt. Aurelia glared at me with a fierce intensity as she exited, closing the door with a finality that echoed in the stillness.

Hmph, do you think I'm afraid of you? You're not Mereoleona. I sneered inwardly, shaking off the bravado as I turned back to my wife and Nozel, who perched on the edge of Acier's bed, a bundle of sweetness—Noelle—squirming cutely in his arms. I reached for my grimoire, but of course, that was the precise moment Nozel tensed and reached for his own.

I halted, looking at him as if he were an imbecile, the words slipping out before I thought better of it. "If I wanted her dead, I'd just wait a few weeks. Why would I take the risk of killing her myself?"

Nozel's face flamed red with embarrassment as he darted a glance at his mother. Acier met his gaze with an exasperated nod that seemed to convey everything. He turned back to me, and I couldn't suppress a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose in defeat. "I'm just casting a spell to block any potential eavesdroppers and spies. Is that okay with you?" I emphasized the "you" with a pointed annoyance. Once again, Acier gave him a reassuring nod, prompting Nozel to offer me a reluctant sign of approval.

With that, my grimoire floated out of my satchel, shimmering with an ocean-blue luminescence. Flipping to a page that illustrated a peculiar water dome, I cast my spell in silence. Water Barrier Magic: Deep Blue Room. The parameters of the room began to manifest, a dark blue bubble surrounding us, muting all sound and preventing intruders from peering into the barrier. A flicker of satisfaction rippled through me when Noelle squeaked in delight at the sight. I didn't let that small victory show on my face.

"Now let's talk." I shot them a weary look as I pulled a chair closer to the bed, hoping that we could finally have this long-overdue conversation without further distractions.

Acier Silva POV:

I observed my husband as he clumsily pulled a chair in front of the bed and tried to sit down. Yet just as he was about to lower himself, he suddenly halted, standing there with a frown that spoke volumes—his displeasure was palpable. Oh god, please don't tell me he's going to launch into a tirade about a chair.

To my surprise, he didn't. He simply continued standing, trying to play it off as if that brief moment of indecision had never happened. Nozel and I exchanged bewildered glances, our shared confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Sebastian then coughed into his fist, gathering our attention back to him with his ever-signature indifferent tone.

"So is that it? Are you just going to give up? It's not like the Steel Princess to admit defeat." His words cut harshly, utterly tactless and devoid of empathy—just as I had come to expect. Did he truly think I had given up? I had battled this curse for nearly a year; anyone else would have perished within a month. I had tried everything I could without confessing the true nature of my affliction. I sought the best doctors in the kingdom, yet all they could deduce was that it was some post-birth malfunction. A bitter taste filled my mouth as I fought back tears. I refused to give him the satisfaction of witnessing my breakdown. He wasn't worth it anymore.

Nozel, ever ready to protect me, looked like he was about to unleash his wrath on Sebastian. Honestly, I was tempted to let him, but I knew they would need their father, for better or worse. Just as I opened my mouth to chide my eldest, Sebastian spoke again.

"You need to eat and get some rest. Experts will be coming in tomorrow to assess your condition."

Experts? What experts? I shot him a disbelieving look that could not be disguised. "If even the great Dr. Owen was helpless, who else could possibly make a difference?" Nozel chimed in, sarcasm dripping from his voice. It was rude, yes, but far from incorrect. Unless these experts hailed from outside the Clover Kingdom—which seemed improbable—they'd offer no genuine hope. Diamond would likely celebrate my downfall rather than assist me, Spade had closed itself off to outsiders, and the Heart Kingdom specialized only in natural mana elements, completely incapable of working miracles in healing.

I met Sebastian's gaze, searching for any hint of sincerity or understanding, but all I saw was the same indifferent mask he wore like armor. How could he be so unfeeling even now? The overwhelming weight of my situation pressed down on me, but I was resolute: I would withstand this storm, even if he refused to see my struggles.

I braced myself for Sebastian to reprimand Nozel for speaking out of turn, but to my surprise, he merely offered him an understanding nod. "I never said anything about a doctor. I said experts." He emphasized that last word, whatever it meant, before turning his gaze to me. "They're much better equipped for dealing with your particular situation." His eyes shifted toward Nozel, narrowing in on his throat, and I felt a chill run down my spine. "Both of yours."

What? He...he...he actually—"You know?!" Nozel echoed my shock, the accusation hanging heavily in the air. He knows about the curse—not just mine, but Nozel's too. He knows the truth.

Sebastian's only response was a silent nod, plunging the room back into an eerie silence.

"H-how?" I managed to stammer, my heart racing with dread and a glimmer of hope. "Why?" How had he found out? Did he always know, and if so, why wait until now to give me this flicker of hope? Did he take pleasure in playing games with me like this? Tears spilled over, despite my attempts to rein them in, pleading silently for a response, for any form of reassurance.

I anticipated mockery or taunts aimed at Nozel and me, yet what I received shattered my expectations. Sebastian hung his head, shame palpable in his posture. The complex emotions writ large on his face, the guilt that marred his features, knocked the wind out of me. No, this must be a lie. Acier, he's just manipulating you; don't let yourself believe this. I couldn't shake the thought that this was yet another cruel game, one more opportunity for him to revel in my despair.

"Any response I give you...won't satisfy you." He forced himself to meet my gaze, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. "So it's better not to ask." Ignoring my desperate plea for something more, for understanding, he continued, "Eat up...and get some rest...both of you. Your fate isn't sealed yet...so don't give up hope. Come tomorrow, I swear things will start to change." And just like that, he turned to the door, allowing the spell to unravel, restoring the room to its previous state, much to Noelle's displeasure. I found myself trying to reach out to him, my heart racing.

"Sebastian," I called hoarsely, just as I had countless times before, hoping against hope that this time he would stop and face me. But as always, he swung the door open and walked away, indifferent to my call or the accusations Aurelia hurled in his wake, deeply misunderstanding the situation.

I felt Nozel squeeze my hand, his gaze filled with a mixture of anxiety and hope that he struggled to conceal. "Your fate isn't sealed yet...so don't give up hope." Fine then, I thought, just one last time—I will keep my fingers crossed. But deep down, I resolved that this would truly be the final time.