Adrihna Akonium:
I watched as Tiffania knelt before the sacred tree, praying in silence.
This ancient tree stood in a special part of the academy, within an area reserved for elven training. A secluded hall had been dedicated to our traditions, and this very tree had been planted by one of the academy’s founders—one of the previous Saints.
I remained still at the far end of the hall, respecting the ceremony. It would have been a grave disrespect to cross that boundary.
Behind Tiffania, rows of elven students knelt, murmuring prayers in unison.
When their chants ca to an end, Tiffania remained before the tree, offering a few words about the Great Mother. One by one, the elves approached her. She touched each lightly on the forehead, her healing magic seemingly purifying the sorrow from their hearts and filling them with renewed strength for the day ahead.
"May the love of the Great Mother guide our paths," she said in a serene tone, bowing as the elves quietly withdrew, visibly comforted.
Tiffania remained standing, her gentle smile unwavering, an ethereal glow lingering around her.
She didn’t just heal—she soothed people’s spirits. It was sothing I had always deeply respected.
I had known her since the day she was born.
I had watched as the weight she carried grew heavier over ti.
From infancy, she had been molded into perfection—her personality, her posture, even her appearance carefully curated to fit the image of Saint Tiffania.
She was expected to embody purity and compassion for our people. Even her garnts reflected this ideal. The pristine white dress she wore was an enchanted relic, resistant to wrinkles and capable of restoring itself using mana whenever damaged.
She was destined to wear that symbol of purity until the end of her days—removing it only in monts of intimacy or to bathe.
Being Saint Tiffania wasn’t a choice. It was a duty imposed by her lineage.
Her entire life was ant to be devoted to representing our faith.
While the royal family remained distant, wrapped in their sacred, untouchable presence, the Saint was the active face of our religion.
She was expected to visit orphanages, heal the wounded, bring hope to dical centers, and attend religious ceremonies. Although clerics and assistants could aid her in these duties, Tiffania herself always had to be the face of these good deeds—the visible symbol of compassion.
The weight of being a Saint was sothing I deeply admired.
Tiffania would spend centuries fulfilling this role.
And yet, despite her fragility, she carried that burden with unshakable strength.
Tiffania and I walked through the academy, the soft sound of our footsteps echoing along the polished stone corridors.
She maintained an impeccable smile, gracefully nodding to the students and professors we passed—the perfect image of the Saint everyone expected her to be.
However, the mont we reached her quarters and the door shut behind us, her mask of perfection shattered.
"My cheeks hurt… I’ve been smiling for too long," she muttered, sinking into a chair and rubbing her face with her fingers.
"Then use your healing magic and fix it," I teased with a chuckle, crossing my arms.
She stretched out in the chair, her joints cracking as she let out a tired sigh.
Knock, knock.
A voice ca from the other side of the door.
"Saint, would you like sothing to eat?"
"No, I’m fine…" she replied without moving.
"But, Saint, you need to eat. Would you like us to prepare your favorite al? We can make anything for you."
The voice was gentle, but insistent.
"I eat once a week… I just want to rest," she sighed, exasperated.
"Shall we prepare a massage session for you? Or perhaps a warm bath?"
Tiffania narrowed her eyes, her irritation bubbling over.
"Idiot! I just want so peace!"
"If you're in pain, if sothing is bothering you, please, you can tell us," the elf insisted, still unwilling to give up.
"Leave alone for today, you idiots! That's an order!" she snapped, her tone sharper.
Hesitant footsteps retreated from the other side of the door, and as silence finally settled, she let out a long sigh, sinking back into the armchair.
"They’re more of a nuisance than a help… They only listen when I complain," she murmured, massaging her temples.
"A bit of good old silence," I comnted, taking a seat in a nearby chair.
Tiffania stood up and walked toward the bathroom. I followed. She activated the enchanted stones around the bathtub. Water began to flow smoothly as she placed a red stone into it, warming the liquid upon contact.
"If they saw the Saint preparing her own bath, I think they’d faint," I teased, leaning against the doorfra.
"Don’t even ntion it…" she replied with a small, tired smile.
As soon as the tub was full, Tiffania removed her white dress with a delicate motion, letting it slip gently to the floor. She stepped into the hot water, closing her eyes for a mont as she relaxed.
"H-how are they, Adrihna?" she suddenly asked, her voice excited but tinged with nervousness. "What are the lost children of the Great Mother like?"
I scratched my chin, thinking. "Didn’t you see Kinue when she was little? And Nathan… he’s at the academy. They’re normal, just like anyone else."
"I’m a little nervous. I only saw Kinue when she was a child, and I wasn’t much older than her. But now… I’ll finally get to et them in a more private setting. It’s such a great honor."
I stayed there, answering every little question she had about the family. She seed completely fascinated, wanting to know everything—Kinue’s interests, Nathan’s personality, how he behaved. She asked about Katherine’s life and what her childhood was like. Tiffania even ntioned wanting to prepare a special banquet for them.
I sighed softly, trying to ease her nerves. "Tiffania, they’re normal people… I an, a peculiar family, but still… normal… I think."
She shook her head, determined. "I don’t understand why you all agreed to wait so long. If it were up to , I would have brought them to the palace imdiately."
I crossed my arms and looked at her. "Laws need to be respected, Tiffania. All this bureaucracy exists for a reason. A minor incident between the kingdoms could result in… a war."
She t my gaze, stubborn as ever. "It doesn’t matter. The sacred family stands above that."
I sighed, letting out a small chuckle. "And that’s exactly why I’m the diplomat… and you’re the Saint."
Nathan Evenhart:
A few weeks had passed, and the excursion period was drawing near.
"Welco back, young masters," one of the maids greeted us as she opened the door.
The eight of us had arrived at the Evenhart mansion for the weekend. The group included , Chloe, Kinue, Cylla, Natty, Catty, Adrihna, and Tiffania. The Saint had volunteered to join my team for the excursion and had co this weekend so we could finalize so plans.
"Thank you," we all replied as we stepped inside.
More maids appeared, helping us by taking our coats and heading toward the carriage to retrieve Adrihna and Tiffania’s luggage.
"Young master," one of the maids approached and whispered, "More of those crystals you ordered have arrived."
"Hm…" Chloe murmured, and when I turned to look at her, I saw both her and Kinue staring at with judgntal eyes.
"Thank you…" I nodded, then quickly added, "I’ll be resting this weekend. I won’t be working on that hobby."
"Alright, the materials are in your office in the dungeon area," one of the maids inford before stepping away.
I turned to face Kinue and Chloe, who were both staring at .
"See? I'll be dedicating my entire weekend to my fiancées," I said, trying to smooth things over. They both turned red.
"Don't say it like that, idiot. It gives the wrong impression," Chloe huffed, giving a light slap on the shoulder.
We caught up with the rest of the group.
"I think I'll be getting a short vacation while everyone is down in the dungeon," Adrihna mused.
"Professor, you’re one of the teachers who give the fewest classes," Kinue pointed out.
"Oh, any mont not spent reading is a mont wasted," Adrihna joked.
At a distance, Saint Tiffania stood quietly.
"Lady Tiffania," a maid approached her, "please follow , I’ll show you to your room."
Cylla darted to my side.
"I'm hungry. I want at," the gray cat-girl declared.
"Hungry? You ate your plate and mine at lunch."
"It's called a growth phase," she teased.
Two familiar figures erged from one of the doors—it was Aunt Margie and my mother.
"My dears, you arrived early," Aunt Margie said, stepping forward to greet us.
My mother ca over and hugged us.
"I ca to discuss the excursion," Adrihna said, "and also to help with those docunts..."
I touched my black hair, grateful that I could control the superior elf mana circulating through it. Because of that, the dye lasted longer than before. Back when my hair wasn’t entirely silver, the dye would last 15 days at most, so we applied it every weekend just to be safe. Now, it lasted its regular duration—between 3 to 5 months. I had never gone more than two months without reapplying it, so I didn’t know its true limit.
"I think I should reinforce the dye," I said.
"Agreed," my mother nodded. "I know it hasn’t been long since you last applied it, but you can never be too careful."
I began focusing my mystic aura to shift my hair back to its natural white-silver color and burn away the dye—but before I could finish, Adrihna flicked my forehead.
"Better not do that just yet. We don’t want to scare Tiffania into fainting," she teased.
I didn’t quite understand what she ant.
"Tiffania is the daughter of a duke who leads the High Elf Council," Adrihna explained. "Let’s just say... they take that hair color of yours very seriously. More seriously than any other high elf."
"She’s not used to being around you like I am, so let’s not shock the girl," she added.
Is that why she always acts strange when I’m near her?
This was sothing I needed to learn more about. Adrihna had gotten used to it, but that had been a process. When we told her about my hair last year, it turned into a long conversation. We had to start from the beginning, from the attack on Kinue and Chloe. That was the first ti I saw Adrihna truly furious—and she was... terrifying.
I wasn’t involved in the rest of that conversation, though. My mother and Aunt Margie had taken her to an office to calm her down.
Since Adrihna knew our family was full of assassins, my aunt told her that all our enemies had been eliminated and that we had our revenge. My professor seed to take the hint and didn’t press for more details. After that, we explained that my hair had turned completely white-silver. When I revealed it, I saw Adrihna go even paler than she already was.
The only thing I understood from that reaction was that my hair color was incredibly rare among high elves—and apparently, they placed great importance on it.
"I’m finishing up so snacks for you all," Martha's voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts as she appeared before us.
***
As I was organizing the items in my storage bracelet, a soft sound echoed from the door—a gentle knock.
When I opened it, I saw Chloe.
“I’m coming in…” she said softly, stepping hesitantly inside.
Cylla was lying on the bed, lazily stretching her paws, but her feline eyes glead attentively, watching the visitor with curiosity.
Chloe entered slowly and closed the door behind her, looking a bit nervous. As she approached, she held out her hand, revealing an elegant little box.
“For you…” she murmured, avoiding my gaze, though I couldn’t miss the blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Oh…” I reacted, surprised, as I accepted the gift. “Thank you… but… is today so kind of special occasion?”
She frowned, still not looking at .
“You’re my fiancé. Do I need a special occasion to give you a present?” she retorted, her voice slightly tense.
“No, of course not,” I replied, chuckling lightly as I opened the box.
Inside was a knife—light but razor-sharp. The handle was beautifully hand-carved, with intricate details carefully worked into it.
“You’ve liked collecting knives since you were little,” she explained, her voice tinged with embarrassnt. “This one was made by a blacksmith from the Cat Tribe in the demi-human kingdom. He only cos to the city a few tis a year and brings so of his best pieces… so… if you don’t like it, just tell …”
I held the knife, admiring its flawless craftsmanship.
“I like it,” I said sincerely, looking up at her. “Thank you very much, Chloe.”
Without thinking much, I hugged her in gratitude. She stiffened for a mont but soon relaxed, her hands resting gently on my back.
“But… I don’t have anything to give you…” I admitted, feeling a bit guilty for how much effort she had put in.
Chloe bit her lip, thinking for a mont before speaking in a quiet voice:
“Hmm… you could… give a kiss?”
I hesitated for a second but granted her wish. The kiss was soft, shy, and she left the room shortly after, a bright smile on her face.
As soon as I closed the door, I sat on the bed beside Cylla. She was still lying down, but her feline eyes glead intensely.
“I have trouble…” I said. “I have trouble with this kind of feeling… You know why. You saw my past.”
Cylla remained silent for a mont, then nodded softly.
“I know… that’s why I don’t complain too much,” she said, her voice gentle and understanding.
I thought the conversation was over, but then she continued:
“And that’s why… I need to attack you.”
“Attack ?” I repeated, confused, turning to face her.
That’s when I saw a sulking gray cat in my field of vision, ears flattened, her little mouth forming the biggest pout as she glared at with the most spoiled expression imaginable.
“I want a kiss too, Nathan! No escaping!”
Before I could react, Cylla pounced on , attempting to land her feline kisses while I dodged her clingy and jealous attacks.
***
Adrihna and Tiffania were talking with my aunt in the office about elven traditions. I found out that Saint Tiffania didn’t receive that title just for being the greatest healer in her kingdom, but also because she was the equivalent of a "priest" in elven beliefs. She was the daughter of the leader of the High Elves' Council, and her mother previously held the title of "Saint."
Their family was the most traditionalist and "religious" among the elves since, in their faith, they worshipped the sacred original family—the royal family of Syvis.
I think I understand a little better what Syvis ant when she said she was treated like a fragile object.
She once told that even her food was special, prepared only with the absolute best ingredients. Even her at was pre-cut for her, and every ti she got hurt, the elves around her would tremble, fearing she was on the verge of death. I laughed to myself, rembering how she had shared this with . That was one of the reasons she insisted on eating in the academy's cafeteria—she wanted to be treated like a normal person.
"These guys have a priest just to worship the royal family... Their culture is completely different from the human kingdom," I murmured as I walked through the dungeon corridors.
"The human kingdom is ruled by politics, the elven kingdom by religion… and the demi-human kingdom? Would it be strength?" I wondered.
We hadn't yet had an in-depth lesson on the demi-human kingdom. The academy wanted to teach it through a practical lesson, taking students on a trip there. Unlike the elves’ kingdom, the demi-human kingdom allowed visitors to enter freely.
Even though I had studied royal families to prepare for Apsalon’s admission exams, most of the information was obscured. The most recent royal family we studied was at least 50 to 100 years old. They never included information about current or recent generations, mainly for security reasons—both for themselves and their family trees in both kingdoms.
That was one of the reasons I was so surprised to see Elara Asalon when I entered the academy.
"Mother?" I spotted her in the corridor. "I was just on my way to see you."
My mother was coming out of her laboratory.
"And I was just about to call for you," she said. "Co, I need your help. I want to put you to work. I need you to generate plenty of fertile soil and nourish the lake for your little sister." She smirked playfully.
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