Roselle scooped his precious daughter into his arms.
"My mistake was…making my darling upset."
"Mhm, that's right!"
Bernadette nodded with great magnanimity. "I forgive you!"
"Then, tell Daddy—what was it you wanted to say to at dinner just now?"
Bernadette hesitated for a few seconds. "Daddy, that fairy tale collection…was it really sothing you wrote just for ?"
"Of course!"
"Has anyone else read it?"
"No one!" Roselle's tone was firm. "Every word of those fairy tales was created by , and the illustrations were drawn by your mother. Once it was completed, it was given straight to you. How could anyone else have read it?"
"But…"
She pursed her lips. "I just feel like soone else has read it."
"Why do you say that?" Roselle chuckled. Ah, won were always won—such a strong sense of possessiveness, and at such a young age too, already firing at shadows.
Bernadette rubbed at the hem of her clothes with her fingers before finally pulling a doll out of her pocket. "Look at this…Is it Pinocchio? I…found it outside this afternoon."
"Pinoc…—"
Before he could finish, the smile froze on Roselle's face. He snatched the puppet at once, staring fixedly at its long nose.
"How could this be…Is it just a coincidence?"
"Bernadette, where did you find it?"
Bernadette averted her gaze guiltily. "I-it was in the garden."
She had wanted to tell Daddy that a strange man had broken into the villa to give it to her, but she worried that her nose would grow longer.
Roselle regarded his daughter quietly for a mont, then smiled. "Ah, what a pity."
"Why?"
"This puppet was sothing I secretly made as a gift for you. But you happened to pick it up first, so now the surprise is ruined." He shook his head in mock regret.
"Ah? I knew it! Otherwise how could that man have…"
Before finishing, Bernadette hurriedly covered her mouth.
Roselle laughed softly. "That man? You an Grimm?"
"Huh? He was Uncle Grimm?"
"Of course. You're talking about that fellow Grimm. I asked him to take a look at it, but he turned around and handed it straight to you, spoiling my surprise." Roselle pretended to be angry. "By the way, apart from giving you this puppet, did he say anything else?"
"Say anything else?" Bernadette thought for a mont. "No…He just told not to tell anyone, otherwise…my nose would grow longer!"
As she said this, she quickly touched her nose. "Ah! Just now I wasn't telling Daddy, so it doesn't count as lying!"
"Hahahaha!"
Roselle burst into hearty laughter. "Alright, don't worry. That was just Grimm trying to scare you. Now hurry along and rest."
"Okay~"
She grabbed Pinocchio back into her arms, ran off quickly, and called out, "Goodnight, Daddy! Thank you for the puppet—I really like it!"
"Go on then."
Watching his daughter leave happily, Roselle's smile gradually faded.
"That Pinocchio puppet…just what's going on here?"
———
Inside the inn, Edward leaned against the headboard with a book of Elvish, muttering as he recited vocabulary and grammar.
Suddenly, his brows lifted in surprise.
Huh?
The potion of the Secrets Sorcerer had loosened again.
But I didn't do anything…
He closed the book, thinking for a mont. Up to this point, aside from the newspaper boy and the innkeeper, the only real contact he'd had was with Bernadette. So…it was most likely because of her?
But why?
———
Future, Year 1349.
Fog Sea, Erald City.
Queen Mystic, Bernadette, stood quietly upon a seaside terrace, gazing at the moonlit waves that glowed red in the night.
Her eyes suddenly deepened, a brilliance like the starry sky flickering within them.
After a long silence, her gaze returned to normal. She whispered to herself,
"…You've broken our promise again, Edward."
———
Backlund.
Priscilla swung her legs nervously atop the tall seat. Tonight was her first extraordinary gathering since taking "responsibility" for the Aurora Order's Backlund branch.
Though she had long anticipated this, though she had prepared ticulously, she still worried about ssing it up.
"Phew—fortunately, Big brother Edward, Audrey, and Fors will all be here to support soon!"
dici stood beside her, arms crossed, and snorted with disdain. "Getting this nervous over such a small occasion—what will you do if you ever stand at the top?"
Priscilla thought for a mont. "Then…I'd rather stand a little lower."
"…"
At 8 o'clock sharp, the first to arrive were Fors and Xio.
Miss Death had only charged three hundred pounds last ti to lend her help…though it ended up in a farcical ss, the favour still stood. Naturally, Fors made sure to arrive early.
She had wanted to bring friends, but in Backlund, the few friends she had were mostly tied to publishing houses; as for Xio, her acquaintances were mostly ordinary folk.
As for Audrey and Viscount Glaint, they would be coming together.
The rules of the gathering remained unchanged from the days when Mr. A presided—only the décor of the room was different, and the host had changed to Priscilla.
Soon, Audrey arrived with Grelint. The first thing she did was scan the room, searching for Edward and Lilith, but neither were in sight.
She thought of asking Priscilla, but as other Beyonders began filtering in, she let the thought pass.
Half an hour later, over twenty participants filled the room. Most wore disguises that concealed their faces, but Audrey was certain: Edward was not among them.
Could he be busy with sothing else?
She didn't dwell on it.
Though many attendees were sceptical of the child seated in the host's chair, none voiced it aloud. They all knew how terrifying Mr. A had been; now, this little girl sat in his place, calling herself "Miss D." Clearly, she belonged to the sa organisation. Clearly, she was not to be provoked.
In the mystical world, never underestimate anyone.
"Let us begin."
Priscilla was no longer nervous. Following the usual process, the attendants went around collecting slips of paper listing items for sale or purchase, then transcribed them onto the blackboard.
Each entry was read aloud three tis. Anyone interested could apply for a private room, where transactions would be facilitated by attendants.
Priscilla had feared an awkward silence and had asked Audrey's group to help stir montum if needed. But there was no need—after all, it had been weeks since the last gathering, and Backlund only had so many of these circles. Independent Beyonders relied heavily on them for trading.
At one point, the attendant frowned at a slip, then carefully wrote the words on the blackboard:
"Generous reward: Information on an organisation symbolised by Tarot cards."
The three mbers of the Tarot Club froze in unison, exchanging quick glances—yet none spoke up.
As for the others, though they had heard vague rumours, none knew any details.
Thus, the request passed without a response, and the slip was erased.
Fifteen minutes later, Priscilla announced, "Break. You may converse freely."
She then beckoned an attendant, whispered instructions, and handed over a slip.
The attendant nodded and walked straight toward a man in the corner. "Sir, this is from Miss D."
"What?"
The man accepted it in surprise. Through the gauzy veil, his red eyes glimred faintly. The slip read:
"I know sothing about that organisation. If you're interested, stay after the gathering."
When the attendant left, he nudged his companion with an elbow. "Hey, Danitz—should I stay?"
"How should I know? This whole gathering is too low-level, too boring! None of the things I want are here." Danitz yawned.
Emlyn shot him a speechless look. The last ti they t, this guy had still been Sequence 7 like him. Now, he was suddenly gathering materials for Sequence 5.
Sequence 5…For most Beyonders, that was practically the ceiling. No wonder he wasn't expecting much here.
"Sigh…Should I stay or not?" Emlyn muttered, torn between sensing danger and rembering the expectations of his Ancestor.
The gathering, originally set to end at 9, stretched until 9:30 thanks to the backlog of trades.
As the crowd dispersed, Emlyn wrestled with his thoughts—before finally deciding to et this mysterious Miss D.
Danitz tried to follow but was stopped at the door by an attendant.
"If anything happens, just scream! I'll definitely—" He grinned. "—run away first."
"…"
Emlyn raised a middle finger at him.
Soon, he was ushered into a dim room. Miss D sat upon a sofa far too large for her, holding a glass of…milk, looking every bit like a little adult as she fixed her eyes on him.
The scene was oddly dissonant.
He had half-expected Miss D to be a "crippled yet unyielding" dwarf of a Beyonder. But up close, she was plainly just a child. Of course…there was always the chance she was an ancient monster playing young.
"Where did you hear of the organisation symbolised by Tarot cards?" Miss D asked the mont he sat.
"Uh…in the papers. That whole commotion so ti ago, about the Bandit, the Black Emperor."
"And why do you seek this organisation?"
"…I want to join."
"Why do you want to join?"
"Huh?"
Emlyn froze. Why do I want to? The only answer was—the Ancestor's command. Join the organisation, and then…and then…
"Save the world!" he declared solemnly.
———
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