Whispers Before Dawn

"No! I want to come too!"

Meili's shrill voice rang out through the corridor like a child denied her favorite treat. She stomped her feet, fists clenched at her sides before placing her hands on her hips with exaggerated defiance. Her cheeks puffed out, and her lower lip trembled just slightly—a perfect image of rebellion dressed in ribbons.

Subaru, standing with his coat half-buttoned, sighed heavily. He tilted his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if trying to physically relieve himself of the pressure.

"Meili, it's really unnecessary. Three of us are already heading to the village. More than that would just slow us down."

His tone remained soft, almost sympathetic, but carried the steady firmness of someone who'd made up his mind.

Near the doorway, Beatrice and Rem waited with composed patience. Beatrice rocked slightly on her heels, her arms crossed, a grumble of disapproval faintly audible. Rem stood still and ready, her eyes occasionally darting between Meili and Subaru. Ram had already declined to join, having no intention of wasting energy on a village errand. Emilia was, as usual, lost in her studies, buried in books deep within the mansion's library as if building an empire one chapter at a time.

"But I still want to go!"

This time Meili's voice cracked at the edges, laced with the beginnings of a whimper. Her brows furrowed, her eyes shimmered. She looked up at Subaru, desperation blooming behind her gaze. "Please, Subaru-nii..."

The nickname was delivered with practiced sweetness, but there was real emotion behind it. Something trembled in her tone—a small, fragile hope. And then Subaru saw it. In the way she looked at him, in the innocent stubbornness on her face—he saw a ghost.

Hikari.

His breath caught in his throat. The image of his sister flashed in his mind like a stray breeze carrying memories he hadn't meant to recall.

From the corner of the hallway, Elsa watched the entire scene unfold with unreadable calm. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were sharp, calculating. A barely-there smirk played at the edge of her lips. She wasn't intervening, merely observing, as if weighing motives and emotions on invisible scales.

Subaru straightened his posture, drawing in a long, measured breath. Then, shifting his voice into a more formal register, he spoke with an authority he rarely used.

"Absolutely not, young lady. It's bitterly cold outside, and I will not be responsible for you catching a cold." He clasped his hands behind his back, his stance and tone reminiscent of a knight laying down the law.

But Meili wasn't finished. Not even close.

She stepped forward, closing the space between them, her face tilted up in exaggerated innocence. "Subaru-nii... this morning... when you were asleep..."

Subaru's spine stiffened. He blinked once. Twice. And then, before she could utter another word, he lunged forward and slapped his hand over her mouth.

"Ngh—!"

His face turned scarlet, ears burning, the heat of sudden panic flushing across his cheeks. What Meili had started to hint at—it wasn't just embarrassing, it was dangerous. She'd overheard him muttering Emilia's name in his sleep earlier that morning, and heaven only knew what else he might have unconsciously revealed.

He spun around toward Beatrice, eyes wide in alarm, scanning her face for any sign that she might've caught even a whisper. Thankfully, she seemed distracted, tapping her foot against the floor with a grumble of impatience, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"...Alright, Meili. You win. You can come with us."

His voice was low, defeated. His cheek twitched from restrained embarrassment. He leaned down and whispered directly into Meili's ear:

"But for the love of all things sacred, don't ever use that card again. Please."

Meili giggled, a victorious twinkle lighting up her eyes. Her expression was radiant, triumphant, and altogether too pleased with herself. "Yay! Let's go! Elsa-nee, see you later!"

She waved enthusiastically.

Elsa's only response was a slow, singular raising of her eyebrow. A thin, bemused curve graced her lips—there and gone again in a breath. She offered a quiet nod, her amusement buried deep beneath layers of icy detachment.

As Meili skipped ahead toward Rem and Beatrice, Subaru followed with the slow gait of a man whose dignity had just been casually bartered away.

And yet, despite the embarrassment, a quiet warmth stirred in his chest. For a moment, among memories and mischief, he could almost believe things might be alright.

Subaru, Rem, Beatrice, and Meili arrived at the village riding two horses. The morning breeze kissed their cheeks as it swept across the fields, the crisp chill of dawn mixing with a calm silence that blanketed the land. It was the kind of peace that made the weight of one's burdens feel momentarily lighter, even if just by a fraction.

While Rem went ahead to notify the village chief of their arrival, Subaru and Beatrice branched off from the group, heading toward the site where the windmill was being constructed. Subaru's pace quickened slightly, the sight of wooden beams and stone foundations igniting a spark of anticipation in his chest.

Meili and Petra, on the other hand, had already been swept up in playful excitement. As soon as their feet touched the ground, they dashed off, laughter echoing behind them. Yet even in their games, the presence of responsible adults acted like a magnet. Children had a way of gravitating toward seriousness, trying to understand it with wide eyes and open hearts. Subaru and Beatrice found themselves repeatedly interrupted by excited calls and giggles.

Though she wore her usual scowl, Beatrice's eyes were alert. With meticulous care, she documented every minor detail of the construction—the angle of the blades, the alignment of the base, the quality of the materials. Her small notebook seemed on the verge of bursting, the pages filled edge to edge with tiny, precise handwriting and diagrams. It was almost smoking with data.

The windmill stood tall, though still incomplete. Its skeleton was impressive, already catching the wind with promise. But it lacked one essential element: the millstone. A grinding stone large and precise enough to handle village grain. Subaru knew sourcing it would be neither easy nor quick—it was the kind of task that required patience and persistence.

Shortly afterward, Rem returned, her expression calm but her steps purposeful. "Subaru-kun, Beatrice-sama, the village chief and the selected representatives are ready. It's time for the meeting."

Subaru blinked in surprise. Time had flown.

"Let's not keep them waiting then," he said, straightening up. He turned to Beatrice. "Come on, Beako. You're coming with me."

He then directed his gaze to Meili, his voice taking on a soft but instructive tone. "Meili, we're heading into a discussion. I want you to be on your best behavior and stay aware of your surroundings."

Meili gave a playful nod, eyes gleaming with mischief and loyalty. "Don't worry, Subaru-nii. I'll stick with Petra, promise."

Petra, arms crossed and nose slightly upturned, huffed with exaggerated authority. "Hmph. She'll be safe with me. I'm the boss while you're gone."

With a brief smile, Subaru entrusted Meili to Petra's care, then walked alongside Rem and Beatrice toward the meeting house. The air seemed to grow denser with each step. This wasn't a simple conversation—it was a pitch to shape the future.

Before opening the door, Subaru paused and inhaled deeply, centering himself.

"This world… it always finds a way to test me." He pushed open the door.

"My apologies for the delay," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the room, imbued with polite conviction.

A wooden chair sat in the middle of the circle of benches and stools. Subaru gestured toward it. "Beako, that seat is yours."

Beatrice looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. Then, without a word, she made her way to the chair. Her steps were small, but each one was full of gravity. In her eyes, the eternal fatigue that once loomed seemed softened, replaced by something newer—an interest in what came next.

The village chief, a grizzled man with deep lines around his mouth and thoughtful eyes, turned to Subaru. "Welcome, Subaru-dono. As requested, I've gathered those among us most skilled in their crafts. They're ready to hear you out."

Subaru looked around. Seated in a semi-circle were men and women of various trades—blacksmiths, masons, farmers, woodworkers. Their hands were calloused, their backs worn from years of toil, but their eyes were sharp, flickering with curiosity and tempered skepticism.

For a moment, the room felt still. The air was thick with expectation.

Subaru took another breath and began.

"Thank you all for coming," he said. "I am Natsuki Subaru. I serve as the unofficial knight of Royal Candidate Emilia-sama."

His voice carried no arrogance, just an unwavering conviction that turned the simple statement into something heavier.

"I've asked you here today to present ideas—ideas that could make your work easier, your lives less burdened, and your future more secure."

He paused. Not because he faltered, but to allow the weight of his words to settle.

A man near the front, his hands deeply lined with years of harvesting soil, raised his arm. "And what sort of ideas might those be, Subaru-dono? What kind of change are we speaking of?"

Subaru reached into the bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a rolled piece of parchment. He walked forward and handed it to the man, the sound of the paper unfurling echoing in the quiet.

Then he handed out several more, moving between the villagers with quiet care.

"These," he said, "are designs for machines and tools from my homeland. Innovations that transformed agriculture and industry. Things like Air-powered grain mills, seed drills, and systems of crop rotation that yield more food with less effort."

He stepped back and met their gazes one by one.

"I want to bring these to Lugunica. To you. Together, we can reshape how this village survives—not just this season, but for years to come."

The entire room had fallen into a deep, contemplative silence. Every villager present was fully engrossed in the documents they held, their eyes scanning intricate lines, diagrams, and unfamiliar scripts. The tension was palpable yet electrifying—each person weighed the future with every turn of the page. Some furrowed their brows as they tried to make sense of the unfamiliar terminology, while others blinked in awe, their expressions flickering between curiosity and revelation.

Amidst the stillness, Beatrice quietly reached out and claimed one of the documents for herself. With a subtle flourish, she pulled out her notebook and began scribbling furiously, the soft scratch of her quill forming a delicate counterpoint to the heavy silence in the room. The sound was faint, almost melodic, like a whisper of wind rustling through ancient parchment.

Standing near the center of the room, Subaru cleared his throat. His presence alone demanded attention, but his tone was unusually solemn.

"The sheet you're reading describes a structure called a 'Windmill,'" he began, speaking with the calm confidence of someone who had lived with such conveniences. "It harnesses the power of the wind to grind grains like corn and wheat into flour. With this, our village's women—and men, if they wish—won't need to rely on laborious hand-grinding anymore. Just load the grain, and the wind does the rest."

A few murmurs passed through the crowd as heads lifted from the papers. One man—middle-aged, with a weathered look and hands shaped by decades of manual labor—raised his voice politely.

"That's extraordinary, Subaru-dono. Forgive my curiosity, but... where do you come from? Surely a land with such knowledge must be far from Lugunica."

Subaru hesitated, if only for a moment. If I tell them I'm from Japan, it'll only confuse them, he mused. He forced a small smile, opting for something more comprehensible.

"I hail from Karagiri," he replied smoothly. "A place that, in terms of technology and invention, has surpassed even the boundaries of Lugunica's imagination."

The village elder, who had remained silent until now, gave a slow nod, his aged eyes narrowing in thought. His face relaxed into a look of approval.

"That explains much. Your insight is valuable, Subaru-dono."

Nearby, Beatrice let out a faint, audible sigh as she jotted another note in her book. Subaru noticed but didn't comment. He knew her well enough to leave her be.

What followed was a detailed explanation of improved agricultural techniques—crop rotation, irrigation systems, soil preservation methods, and seed preservation. Subaru patiently answered each question, no matter how repetitive or seemingly trivial. His tone remained calm, instructive. He wasn't just introducing innovation—he was inviting these villagers into a world of possibilities.

Beatrice occasionally glanced up, her sharp eyes catching nuances others missed, while Rem, ever-diligent, filled in the occasional gap, clarifying or expanding on Subaru's points when he paused for breath.

After nearly an hour of discussion, Subaru clapped his hands together gently.

"And now, one last thing I'd like to show you—something I believe could change your daily lives just as much."

He stepped aside to reveal a covered object resting beside him. With a single pull, he unveiled it—a sleek, hand-built sewing machine.

The shift in the room's energy was immediate. The low buzz of conversation stilled as all eyes turned to the device. The curiosity was almost tangible.

Rem stepped forward with a folded piece of cloth in her hands, something she had prepared earlier. Subaru nodded to her, then took his place by the machine and began rotating the side wheel. A soft, steady mechanical hum filled the room.

Rem, poised and graceful, began sewing. Her hands moved fluidly, guiding the fabric as the needle dipped and rose in a smooth rhythm. The machine sang its mechanical lullaby—a steady cadence that hypnotized the onlookers. Each pass of the needle stitched not just fabric, but dreams of what could be.

Gasps of wonder broke the silence. One woman leaned forward, eyes shining with unshed tears. "This... this could change everything. We could make clothing so much faster, with less strain on our hands."

Her declaration was a spark. One by one, others began chiming in. Ideas flew through the room like wildfire—tailor shops, winter garments, school uniforms for children. Hopes that had once been idle now took shape in the form of practical application.

Subaru stood silently, watching it all unfold. His chest swelled with quiet satisfaction. This is why I do it, he thought. To help people see a future they hadn't dared to dream.

When Rem finished, she held up the result—a small white dress, elegant in its simplicity, the stitching flawless. Applause erupted like a wave crashing against a cliff.

The meeting drew to a close not long after. Plans were made, roles discussed. Subaru's ideas would be implemented, tested, and improved upon. A fresh chapter for the village had begun.

As the last few villagers exited the hall, Beatrice snapped her notebook shut with finality. "Betty's work here is done. I'm returning to the library," she said in her usual clipped tone.

Subaru raised a brow. "Beako… are you really walking back? After all this?"

She glared at him as if he'd insulted her lineage. "Betty can teleport. She's tethered to her library—obviously," she replied, flipping her curls with indignation.

Without another word, she gave Subaru and Rem a quick glance. "See you both at the mansion. Don't dawdle."

And then, with a shimmer of magic and a puff of displaced air, she vanished—leaving behind only a faint breeze and a lingering sense of wonder.

Subaru chuckled softly and turned to Rem, who was still gently running her fingers across the dress she had sewn.

"What do you think, Rem?"

She looked up at him with quiet confidence. "I think this is only the beginning."

Subaru blinked slowly, his eyes heavy with the lingering tension of the day. "Phew... That was exhausting," he murmured under his breath. He leaned back gently, allowing his shoulders to loosen as he let out a deeper sigh, as if releasing the burden of hours of effort and attention. A faint breeze passed through the now-empty hall, the faint echo of voices and applause still lingering in his ears.

At that moment, Rem approached quietly from behind. Her steps were soft, barely audible, but her expression radiated warmth and joy. "You were incredible during the meeting, Subaru-kun," she said, her eyes shining with admiration and pride. "Everyone was so impressed by you. You really changed something in them today."

Subaru turned his head slightly, offering her a tired but genuinely grateful smile. His heart felt a little lighter just from hearing her voice. "Thanks, Rem. I honestly didn't think it would go that well... But we pulled it off. Let's go deliver this machine to its owner—" Just as he took a step forward, his foot slipped awkwardly against the smooth stone floor.

Rem reacted instantly. With swift, graceful movement, she reached out and caught him, wrapping her arms around him before he could hit the ground.

"Subaru-kun? Are you alright?" She held him close, her voice now tinged with gentle concern. Her arms tightened slightly, protective and steady.

Subaru, breathing a little heavier than before, rested his head softly on her shoulder. The warmth of her presence was reassuring, like stepping out of the cold into the comfort of home. "I'm okay, Rem... Don't worry," he said in a low, hushed tone. "I just... feel really at peace right now. Everything's finally quiet inside."

His words trailed off with a kind of serene exhaustion. For a moment, all the chaos, pressure, and fear he had carried seemed to dissolve in the simple comfort of her embrace.

Rem smiled softly and leaned her cheek gently against his hair. "If that's what you need... then of course. Let's stay like this for a little while." She adjusted her arms slightly, drawing him in with a tenderness only she could offer.

For several long seconds, time itself seemed to pause. No one spoke. No wind stirred. Only the steady beat of two hearts could be felt in the stillness.

But then—

Tiny footsteps echoed suddenly from the hallway, breaking the silence like a pebble tossed into still water. Meili and Petra burst into the room, their eyes wide and sparkling with mischievous glee.

"Subaru-nii is ours!!" They shouted in perfect sync, charging straight toward him like giggling whirlwinds of energy.

Subaru flinched, surprised, but there was no time to react. Meili flung herself onto his right side while Petra latched onto his left. Within seconds, he was being smothered in a barrage of playful affection.

Rem stepped back just enough to laugh, hiding a smile behind her hand.

The room exploded into joyous chaos—laughter, squeals, and overlapping voices. It was a beautiful disruption, one that filled the air with warmth.

After a few moments of teasing and laughter, Subaru finally wriggled free, still smiling, and gathered the sewing machine carefully into his arms.

"Alright, alright, you little rascals. Let's head over to Petra's house. We've got one more stop to make."

The group stepped outside, their steps falling into rhythm on the cobbled road. The golden light of the late afternoon filtered through the trees, painting everything in a soft, glowing hue.

"Petra, if your mother's home, could you call her for me?" Subaru's voice was gentle but purposeful, a mix of polite request and quiet urgency.

Petra nodded with bright enthusiasm. "Okay, Subaru-nii! Just a second!"

She darted toward her house, feet barely touching the ground. A short moment later, Clara appeared at the doorway.

She looked a little worn, as if the day had taken its toll on her, but her smile was warm and sincere. A simple apron hung around her neck, dusted faintly with flour, and her hands bore the marks of a long day's work.

"Ah, Subaru-dono! What a pleasant surprise. Is there something you need?" Her voice was as kind and welcoming as her daughter's.

Subaru stepped forward and bowed lightly. "Good evening, Clara-san. First of all, thank you for attending the meeting today. It meant a lot to have your support." He lifted the sewing machine slightly, presenting it to her. "I'd like to give you this. It's a gift—for you and your household. If you'll accept it, I'd be truly grateful."

Clara's eyes widened in shock. Her hands fluttered slightly, unsure whether to reach forward or pull back.

"I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, clearly moved. "Are you sure? This is... quite generous."

Subaru nodded with sincerity. "Very sure. I know you'll make good use of it."

Finally, Clara smiled, a little overwhelmed but deeply thankful. "Then I accept, Subaru-dono. Thank you—truly."

She stepped aside and gestured warmly. "Won't you come in? Please, you're always welcome."

Petra's voice piped up immediately. "Yes, Mom! Subaru-nii has to come in! He's my guest today!" She puffed out her cheeks a little in pride, arms crossed in a cute but defiant pose.

Subaru chuckled quietly. There was no point in arguing with Petra when she got like this, and honestly, he didn't mind one bit. He exchanged a knowing glance with Rem, then nodded.

"Alright. Just for a bit."

Inside, they shared a short but warm conversation. Subaru explained the basics of how to use the machine, Clara took careful notes, and Petra asked questions faster than he could answer them. The evening passed gently, filled with light chatter, soft laughter, and the scent of fresh bread still lingering in the kitchen.

Eventually, it was time to leave. The sky had shifted from gold to dusky violet. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the village in a peaceful twilight glow. Long shadows stretched across the paths, and a cool breeze drifted through the trees.

Subaru felt the exhaustion settle into his bones. By the time he climbed into the cart, lulled by the steady clop of hooves and the scent of the forest, his eyes had already begun to close.

When they finally arrived back at the mansion, night had fully taken hold, blanketing the world in deep indigo. And yet, in Subaru's chest, there was a quiet warmth—a quiet, lasting peace that promised tomorrow might be just a little brighter.

Meili burst into the room, her footsteps ringing sharply across the cold stone floor of the hallway, a rhythmic patter that broke the stillness of the late afternoon.

"Elsa-nee!"

Her breath hitched from excitement as she called out. Her eyes sparkled with a joy too large for her small frame, cheeks flushed, hair slightly disheveled from running.

Without even a heartbeat of hesitation, she sprinted across the room and hurled herself into Elsa's waiting form. Her tiny arms wrapped tightly around the older woman's waist, clinging with the fierce desperation of someone seeking refuge from the world. It wasn't just affection—it was trust, raw and unspoken.

Elsa instinctively leaned back, a flicker of wariness flaring in her body as it always did—but this time, she didn't move to push away. Her hands lifted slowly, deliberately, and settled gently on Meili's back. Her touch was light, unsure, like someone reacquainting themselves with something long forgotten. Her fingers curled slightly, holding the girl close in a way that felt foreign yet natural.

There was a softness in Elsa's gaze, subtle but real. Something unfamiliar had begun to stir beneath her composed surface: the ache of connection. An old, dormant warmth blinked awake, hesitant and tender.

"What's with the rush, Meili?" she asked, her voice smooth and even. It carried no overt affection nor icy distance—just the steady presence that defined Elsa. Constant. Unflinching.

Meili leaned back just far enough to meet her eyes, her cheeks glowing pink, her breath still fast and bright.

"I had so much fun today! Subaru-nii took me to the village, and I played with Petra, and Rem-nee helped me sew a dress! A real one!"

Her words tumbled out like an overflowing stream, each syllable practically tripping over the next. She looked up at Elsa like she was offering a treasure—every memory, every joy, something worth sharing.

Elsa listened in silence, then gave a slow nod. Her lips curved upward, barely, but unmistakably.

"Sounds like you had a full day," she said softly. "I'm glad."

She lifted a hand and gently raked her fingers through Meili's hair, combing it with a tenderness that surprised even herself. Her strokes were steady and slow, as if trying to memorize the texture, the shape of this moment. Meili closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, a soft hum escaping her lips.

The world seemed to hush around them.

In that fragile silence, Elsa's thoughts turned inward. A quiet voice echoed deep in her chest:

"Someone like me... could I really be allowed to protect this?"

But she didn't speak it aloud. Instead, she let the moment linger, let the warmth sit in her heart for just a little longer.

Subaru lingered in the shadows, watching Meili and Elsa share their tender moment for a while longer.

A subtle, fleeting warmth flickered in his tired eyes; no matter how much the world hardened him, a part of his heart stubbornly clung to these rare, quiet displays of happiness.

But beneath that fragile facade, deep within the layers of his weary mind, an immense and suffocating burden waited, whispering of duties left unfulfilled.

That knowledge pulled him back, stealing him from the moment as he quietly turned away.

Even though every step weighed heavy as iron chains, his resolve remained unshaken, carved into his bones by countless trials.

Tonight, despite his exhaustion, there was a conversation he could no longer delay.

He needed to see Beatrice.

With his footsteps echoing through the vast, cold, and silent corridors of the mansion, Subaru made his way toward the entrance of the forbidden library.

He stopped at the imposing door, resting his forehead gently against the cold wood, letting out a breath that trembled with both fatigue and resignation.

"Every time I cross this threshold... it feels like I'm walking deeper into the corners of my own soul," he thought, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Then, gathering what little strength he could summon, he took a deep breath, placed his hand firmly on the worn handle, and pushed open the heavy door.

Inside, the library was cloaked in its eternal, suffocating stillness.

Rows upon rows of ancient books towered over him like silent sentinels.

In the middle of that ocean of knowledge, Beatrice sat curled up in her armchair, her small figure illuminated by the flickering glow of the candlelight.

Her golden hair shimmered like molten gold in the dim room.

"Oh? You've come back, I suppose," she said, not bothering to lift her gaze from her notebook.

Her voice held that familiar mixture of cold sarcasm and buried warmth, a melody Subaru had come to cherish despite everything.

Subaru plopped into the seat across from her, letting his weary limbs rest.

"Hey, Beako. Good to see you again. So... what do you make of everything that happened today?"

Finally, Beatrice looked up at him.

Her piercing gaze still dripped with her signature sarcasm, but beneath it, he could see the faintest traces of something softer—a hesitance, perhaps?

"Betty thinks you're quite the talker, I suppose. But... your drawing skills are catastrophically terrible. Honestly, they hurt Betty's eyes."

Subaru dramatically clutched his chest as though struck by an invisible blade, throwing himself back in his chair.

"An invisible knife... straight to my delicate heart!" His chair groaned under the exaggerated motion, sliding back a few inches.

Beatrice couldn't hold back a small, reluctant chuckle.

"There's no need for such dramatics, I suppose. It's merely the unpolished truth," she said, her attention drifting back to her notes.

Subaru shook his head, putting on a mock pout. "Beako, my heart is sensitive, okay? Have some pity on a wounded man."

She shrugged, utterly unmoved.

"Betty has no intention of sparing you from bitter truths, I suppose."

"And that's what I love about you, Beako... though sprinkling in a little mercy now and then wouldn't kill you, you know?" He smiled, but the mask quickly slipped away as his expression turned solemn, voice lowering into a more serious tone.

"Beako... yesterday, in that book you let me borrow... I read about something called a 'Mana Heart.' I want to try making it. Can you help me?" His voice was filled with raw hope, but it trembled ever so slightly, carrying the fragile uncertainty of someone bracing for rejection.

Beatrice met his gaze for a brief moment.

For a heartbeat, surprise flickered in her eyes, only to be swallowed by an iron-hard resolve.

"Betty cannot help you, I suppose," she said.

Her voice was quiet but heavy, like chains forged from sorrow.

"The knowledge in this library... it's not for you. It's only meant for Betty and the one she's meant to make a contract with."

Subaru furrowed his brow, frustration flashing across his features.

"But... why? Why does that rule even exist?"

Beatrice tilted her head ever so slightly, as if straining to listen to a distant voice echoing from an era lost to time.

"Because... that was Mother's final command," she whispered, her words flickering like the unstable candlelight surrounding them. "She told Betty to protect this place... until 'that person' arrives."

Subaru's expression tightened.Of course he remembered this.

The witches' tea party, Echidna's lies, the cruel manipulation Beatrice had endured for centuries...

He leaned in closer, his eyes locking with hers, refusing to waver.

"Beako... who is 'that person'?"

Beatrice hugged herself, curling up tighter as if trying to disappear into the folds of her dress.

She stared into the emptiness beyond the bookshelves.

"Betty doesn't know, I suppose... I just waited... for four hundred years..." Her voice was hollow, an empty echo of a girl who'd long forgotten how to live.

Subaru felt a dagger twist inside his chest. To endure such endless solitude...

To exist only for a promise she couldn't even define...

"Then tell me..." Subaru's voice softened, wrapping her in a warmth she'd been starved of.

"Did your mother really want you to wait for them? Or... did she want you to choose them yourself?"

Those words shattered the stillness of the room like a stone thrown through glass.

Invisible walls crumbled.

Beatrice's eyes widened as if the entire puzzle of her existence had suddenly begun to unravel in her hands.

She froze, breath caught in her throat, trembling on the edge of something she couldn't yet name.

Subaru clenched his fists, swallowing the words he so desperately wanted to say:

"In my previous life... even if it was unbearably hard, I made a contract with you, Beatrice."

But he couldn't rush it now.

He had to wait. To endure. To let her take the first step herself.

As Beatrice sat there, lost in the swirl of her broken thoughts, Subaru rose quietly.

His gaze lingered on her small, delicate back—so strong, yet so fragile under the weight of centuries.

Without another word, he turned toward the door, letting the silence stretch between them like a fragile bridge neither dared to cross... yet.

The air in the corridor had grown noticeably colder, thicker, and heavier, pressing against Subaru's skin like an invisible weight. It felt as though even the ancient, creaking walls of the mansion were breathing alongside his turbulent emotions, reflecting the unease that gnawed at his heart.

When Subaru finally reached his room, he noticed the window had been left ajar, allowing the outside world to intrude upon his fragile space. A cool, almost icy breeze drifted inside, brushing against his face and causing the curtains to sway like ghostly figures dancing in the shadows. Subaru approached the window cautiously, reaching out instinctively to close it.

But...

From the dense forest beyond the mansion grounds, a familiar coldness seeped through the night air, brushing against his skin with a biting chill that went beyond the physical. It was a coldness that slithered into his veins and coiled tightly around his spine. His instincts screamed at him, and he narrowed his eyes, straining against the darkness, desperately trying to make out any shapes or threats lurking within.

"Witch beasts? No... it can't be," he murmured under his breath, though the uncertainty gnawed at his nerves.

With a weary, hollow smile, he shook his shoulders lightly, attempting to shake off the dread crawling beneath his skin.

"I'll... deal with it later," he whispered, his voice lacking conviction. Right now, he lacked the strength or the will for yet another battle, not tonight.

Slowly, he shut the window, sealing the night outside, and returned to his room, though the oppressive darkness still clung to him like a second skin.