Rosetta

Part 1

High in the southwestern hills of the Osgorreich Imperium stood Castle Woterbatch, ancestral seat of the illustrious Woterbatch family. Once a stark medieval fortress, it had evolved over centuries into a sprawling estate of aristocratic grandeur. The fifty-acre grounds boasted perfectly trimmed lawns, vibrant rose gardens, and a shimmering pond just beyond the courtyard, with another four hundred acres of orchards, vineyards, and farmland extending into the horizon.

Visitors arriving by carriage passed through soaring wrought-iron gates bearing the family crest—a black raven clutching a golden lily—before traveling up a wide cobblestone drive designed to impress. The castle itself loomed ahead, its towering stone walls and conical-topped turrets marked by colorful banners depicting the Woterbatch emblem. Magical wards protected the estate, politely rebuffing intruders with a firm but genteel touch.

Inside, the estate blended medieval grandeur with modern mana-driven innovations. The vaulted front hall, reminiscent of a Gothic cathedral, dazzled with stained-glass windows casting kaleidoscopic light across the polished stone floor. Mana-lamps flickered to life with a word, their soft glow complementing the charm of flickering candles. A sleek mana-propelled elevator behind an iron lattice provided an effortless alternative to the castle's many staircases.

Deeper in, the east wing opened onto an ornate gallery lined with portraits of past Woterbatch princes, leading eventually to the office of the current Prince of Woterbatch, Einhard Woterbatch. Situated on the second floor and spanning two lofty stories, his office was a grand, square chamber ending in an oval alcove. Both walls of the main room were packed with ancient grimoires and magical artifacts, while the alcove itself was framed by towering mosaic windows set in centuries-old oak. The afternoon sunlight poured through the stained glass, scattering shifting bursts of color across the polished floors.

At the heart of the alcove stood a commanding desk, positioned so that it was flanked directly by the towering windows behind and faced directly toward the office doors. A built-in mirror phone powered by intricate mana conduits made it possible for the prince to achieve instant communication across the realm. Two angelic statues flanked the alcove, where the oval section blended with the main room: one statue was hooded with outspread wings and a book in hand; the other wore gleaming armor and held a sword aloft. They symbolized the Woterbatch ideals of wisdom and power, constant reminders of the family's proud legacy.

Prince Einhard Woterbatch stood in that very alcove, gazing through the sweeping mosaic windows with his hands folded behind him. Afternoon light streamed in, throwing vivid beams across the floor. Silver-haired yet regal, he cut a tall, lean figure with keen, commanding eyes. Only the occasional cough into a spotless handkerchief hinted at any frailty. His reputation was that of a benevolent patriarch combined with the precision of a born leader—equally adept at offering a compassionate smile or decreeing a severe punishment.

A polite knock broke the silence. A butler in formal wear announced quietly from behind the stately double doors, "Your Serene Highness, Lady Rosetta has arrived."

Einhard's expression revealed nothing. "Let her in."

The doors swung open. Rosetta Woterbatch entered with graceful self-assurance, wearing a burgundy gown detailed with silver filigree. Raven-dark hair spilled past her shoulders, framing a refined face with captivating brown eyes.

She offered a respectful curtsy. "Your Serene Highness."

Einhard turned, offering a faint smile. "Rise, my lovely Rosetta. How has life been treating you?"

Rosetta straightened. Despite their familial bond, centuries of noble protocol demanded formality. "My mission progresses smoothly," she said evenly. "The Imperium will not be disappointed, Grandfather."

Einhard inclined his head and moved from the window toward his grand desk. "Excellent. Do elaborate."

Rosetta approached the ornate desk, where the mana-conduit mirror phone glimmered faintly. Glancing around to ensure privacy, she spoke more softly. "He is… completely infatuated."

Einhard's eyebrows rose. "So Vlan, the Arussian prince, has fallen for your charms? That happened… more quickly than I anticipated."

Rosetta's lips curved in a subtle, confident smile. "He is just a man. All I needed to do was appeal to his ego and satisfy his fantasies, and he was addicted to me in no time."

A light cough escaped Einhard, part chuckle and part genuine discomfort. He dabbed his mouth with his handkerchief. "Your confidence never wavers. But why volunteer for this mission when you are still getting over a heartbreak?"

Her gaze flicked for a fraction of a second, but she retained her composure. "Because I alone can do it. I can't leave such an important matter in the hands of another. Hence, I volunteered."

Einhard paused, letting the hush expand before responding. "Yes, that's your official story, but what is the true reason? Please don't tell me you're using Vlan as a rebound love interest. We both know how dear Philip was to you, but using another man to patch a broken heart… that won't end well. Please tell me the truth: why did you toss aside an engagement to someone you loved so dearly, only to go to such extreme lengths to get over the heartbreak later?"

A hint of sadness passed over Rosetta's eyes. "I ended the engagement because…" She stopped briefly, as though recollecting bitter truths, then forced a calm tone. "I just realized that… that… he cannot give me the life I wanted. Simple as that."

A flicker of paternal sympathy crossed Einhard's face. "There's a ceremony this weekend to finalize the dissolution of that last joint venture you and Philip shared. It might be your one remaining chance to see him without having to initiate a meeting. I beg you, settle your feelings before then. If you miss this opportunity, your pride won't allow another."

Rosetta shook her head with poised determination. "There's nothing left to resolve. It's simply business, and I won't be attending. Any public link between me and Philip could jeopardize my new mission if Vlan suspects I still have lingering feelings."

Einhard's gaze hardened, though he eventually nodded. "Very well. Let the dissolution proceed in your absence. Concerning Vlan, I've heard he studied here as a foreign exchange student and developed a deep fondness for our culture… and apparently, our women."

"Our ruling council is truly visionary, aren't they? This plan is so shrewd and tricky, and Arussians couldn't have possibly seen it coming. It leverages human nature to its fullest. It is also the best line of defense against such asymmetrical military capabilities. After all, when private interests are pitted against public interests, we know how most Arussian elites would choose. After all, what sane person would drown their own wallet in a sea of flames." Einhard spoke excitedly as his body trembled with pride—the pride of being a member of the Osgorotian elite, whose leader he viewed as so wise.

"Yes, Grandfather, if all goes well, most of the Arussian elites will have large stakes in our real estate and financial markets within two years. I will be sure to leverage my imminent socialite status to advertise the safety and growth potential of our financial and real estate markets," Rosetta chimed in.

"This way, these frequent border skirmishes shall never become an all-out war, and we shall never have to suffer the wrath of the Snow Queen. Most importantly, we shall have peace in our age. Is it ironic that the matter of security will not be settled by blood and iron but by money and marketing?" Einhard mused.

Rosetta nodded in agreement. Then, she looked at the clock on the wall and said, "I'll be taking my leave now—Vlan's board meeting will end soon, and a devoted girlfriend would, of course, be waiting for him at the nearby café."

Einhard nodded. "I wish you all the best, but minimize any emotional entanglement and… abort this mission if he ever turns abusive. I will take care of the rest."

Rosetta smiled and nodded elegantly as she delivered a stately curtsy before excusing herself and heading for the grand double doors. The mosaic windows behind cast shimmering rainbows over her hair.

Beneath her composed exterior, however, she wrestled with a lingering concern: Vlan sometimes spoke in his sleep, calling out a woman's name—"Cyberia." Rosetta intended to uncover exactly who that was.

When the doors closed, Einhard returned to the window, letting his eyes drift over the distant ornamental pond. Rays of afternoon sunlight danced along his figure. Then, a sudden chill whistled through the room, extinguishing half the lights and causing the remaining mana-lamps to flicker as though some immense power had just swept through.

"Don't you think it is a bit of an overkill for a foreign investment sales pitch?" a voice echoed, seemingly from every corner. In front of Einhard's desk, a swirling cloud of darkness gathered ominously. Its center solidified into the shape of a tall, pale man with near-silver hair and a flawlessly delicate face, dressed in a blend of old-world aristocratic fashion and a faintly unsettling sleekness. His boots clicked softly on the polished floor.

"My old friend," Einhard said, turning away from the window. "You're a good two decades late."

Part 2

Philip slumped into the oversized chair at his study's heavy wooden desk, the door clicking shut behind Albert. For a moment, silence reigned. The tall windows let in midday light, illuminating dust motes dancing across the carved paneling. He inhaled and exhaled, trying to absorb the avalanche of information from the magical tablet session.

Albert—somewhere around Lydia's age, as meticulous and unflappable as she was—had just paraded a dizzying array of numbers. Now, with Albert gone, Philip stared at the tablet's final summary glowing on the smooth marble surface. It was the strangest hybrid: part futuristic ledger, part archaic runic artifact, but effectively a "touchscreen" for magical finance.

He swiped a trembling finger across the swirling runes, pen set aside. The columns reflowed:

Liquid Wealth: $250,000Monthly Rent (Estate): $1,000Tenant-Farmer Income: $300 net after taxesDebts: $3,500 owed to the government

He groaned, letting his head drop back against the chair. "So, I have two hundred fifty grand… but I'm also renting an absurdly huge estate for a thousand a month. That's two years of an average Yortinto wage every month. I basically need 24 years of an average person's salary just to pay annual rent. Insane."

His own orchard, farmland, and orchard-laborers' houses—none belonged to him. The trust arrangement gave him a measly fifteen percent from renting out nine thousand acres, netting about $300 monthly, which barely covered daily expenses. On top of that, the upcoming dissolution of the Vorak Hotel chain would pay off old estate debt—not put money into his pocket. And as if to rub salt in the wound, an entire fortune—$150,000—had previously been spent on Rosetta by the old Philip. The good news was that he was debt-free; the bad news was that he was landless.

"Old me must have been a lovesick idiot," he muttered, flipping through line items labeled "Rosetta's birthday ball," "Bejeweled necklace for Rosetta," "Rosetta's entourage," "Vorak legal fees," and so on. "This is enough to buy half this orchard… but I spent it on her. No wonder my brain blanked out that memory. It must be an ego defense mechanism trying to forget how stupid it was."

He slouched in exasperation, shutting his eyes. As he did, an uninvited recollection from yesterday infiltrated his thoughts: Natalia, nude in the bathtub, pressing her soft but deceptively powerful body against him—her lips locked with his in a passionate kiss, water streaming off both their torsos. Instantly, heat flared across his cheeks.

"She's unbelievably strong," he mumbled under his breath, recalling how easily she pulled him in. His heart hammered at the raw sensation. He fumbled with the desk's handle, almost as if searching for an escape.

A mocking voice resounded in his head, laced with sarcastic glee: "Maybe it's not that she is too strong, but that you are too pitifully weak, dear Host."

He jolted upright, nearly toppling off the chair. "Holy—System, would you not do that?!"

The System manifested as a busty, towering woman with glossy black hair. She wore a white lab coat, left flapping open over a skintight sports bra and the tiniest mini shorts Philip had ever seen. The subtle jiggle of her curves had him turning red from face to toes.

"Did I catch you in a… private moment?" she teased, stepping forward in phantom form. "Don't mind me. Nothing urgent. Just a reminder: work out, Lover Boy, or you will never get to third base." She shrugged off the lab coat entirely, revealing just how precariously her sports bra fit. Her mini shorts looked like they might vanish if she sneezed.

Philip's face turned scarlet, a throbbing pulse of embarrassment and primal reaction flooding him. "G-gah, you perverted System! Stop messing with me. Why are you so… bare?"

She offered a sultry, mischievous grin. "You are missing the point. I am wearing a gym outfit. Just a subtle reminder of our earlier agreement! Also, just a heads up: don't read Natalia like you would a normal woman. She is an artificial creation. Her desires, vulnerabilities, and needs are all completely different. What is base three for a normal woman might just be the same as a hug to her. So please, don't get ahead of yourself."

Philip willed himself not to glance at her jiggling assets. "I get it. Please, can we not dwell on that? You're not helping."

She leaned forward, further showcasing her toned midriff. "I hope my outfit helped remind you of the need to start getting some exercise."

He choked, spluttering, "Stop, oh gods, I surrender! I will put that on my calendar."

With a peal of wicked laughter, she dissolved into shimmering motes of mana, leaving behind the echo of her last sentence. "Do stop your procrastination soon, or else I will come back with ever more memorable reminders."

Alone again, Philip let out a shaky exhale, cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck. "What is the big deal with exercise?"

He tried to focus on the ledger once more, but images of Natalia's curves, the System's half-naked taunts, and the imaginary sexy $150,000 cheque kept his mind distracted.

Just then, a prickle of awareness made him glance up, and his eyes darted to the large window facing the desk. Bright midday sunshine streamed through the glass… and a pair of curious green eyes stared back at him from an upside-down angle outside the pane.

He gasped, his heart jamming into his throat. "Who are you?!"