Adela soon found herself sitting outside the mansion in one of the open garden spaces facing a long reflective pool. The white sleeveless robe the maids had chosen rested comfortably against her body. It was soft and surprisingly elegant despite how simple it looked. Her crimson hair had been tied into a braided arrangement she had never seen before, woven carefully with silver thread that subtly matched the aesthetics of Concerto.
The maids had taken their time preparing her and strangely enough, the experience felt familiar. Back in the Richinaria Palace, the palace maids fussed over her appearance in nearly the same way whenever special occasions happened. The only difference was that the women here somehow treated grooming like a ritual rather than luxury. It felt oddly nostalgic despite being in an entirely foreign realm.
The mansion itself remained quiet during the day, though Adela had slowly stopped finding the silence unsettling. Servants moved through the halls while telepathic exchanges occasionally flickered at the edge of her senses whenever someone intentionally connected to her. Unlike earlier, she had started understanding the rhythm of communication here. It almost felt natural now.
Eventually, evening began settling over Concerto. The sky shifted into warmer tones while distant ocean winds drifted softly through the residential district. Lamps began glowing gently around the estate, their silver light reflecting beautifully against white stone pathways. Somewhere nearby, faint ocean sounds could be heard through the silence.
Eta XXVI soon walked into the mansion courtyard carrying a small satchel over one shoulder. The younger girl immediately froze when she spotted Adela sitting there. Her eyes widened noticeably before excitement completely took over her expression. A telepathic connection formed almost instantly.
[You look beautiful!]
[Thank you.]
Eta XXVI quickly moved closer while studying Adela's appearance. Compared to earlier on the beach, she looked calmer and somehow fitting strangely well into the white aesthetics of Concerto. Even Eta XXVI seemed impressed by how naturally the clothing suited her. The girl tilted her head curiously afterward.
[Are you staying with us?]
[Until I find my companions, yes.]
Before Eta XXVI could continue asking questions, the head maid appeared near the entrance of the mansion. Her expression remained composed as always, though there was faint amusement in her eyes seeing Eta XXVI so energetic. She bowed toward the younger girl before opening a connection.
[Lady Eta XXVI, your bath is prepared.]
Eta XXVI nodded.
[Okay!]
Without another word, the girl hurried inside the mansion. Adela watched her disappear before quietly relaxing again against the stone seating area. Somehow, despite the absurdity of everything happening, the environment here felt peaceful. A few moments later, Epsilon V approached.
He stopped near her and immediately went quiet.
[Something wrong?]
Epsilon V blinked once like he had forgotten how to respond.
[No, you simply look… beautiful.]
[Thanks.]
The compliment sounded genuine rather than awkward, though Epsilon V still looked mildly embarrassed. He cleared his throat quietly before shifting the conversation elsewhere. Apparently, standing awkwardly in silence had become too uncomfortable even for him. Adela almost found it amusing.
[Delta II informed me you'll be staying here temporarily, She requested that we help you familiarize yourself with our culture.]
[I agreed so yes.]
There was a brief pause before something finally resurfaced in Adela's mind.
[About your names. If names determine rank, then how are they chosen?]
[There is a method, but it would be easier to show you. Tomorrow, we'll go on a proper tour of Concerto. Eta XXVI will skip school and join us.]
[She can just skip school?]
Epsilon V looked mildly amused.
[She insisted.]
Adela somehow expected that answer.
The last sunlight finally disappeared beyond the horizon moments later. Almost immediately, something subtle shifted in the atmosphere of the estate. The silence remained yet somehow felt different now. Epsilon V quietly exhaled beside her.
"We can talk normally now."
"…Right."
"At night, telepathic communication becomes taboo so verbal speech replaces it."
Adela frowned immediately.
"You're telling me the rules reverse?"
"In a sense. Speaking becomes permitted, but telepathic communication beneath the night sky is forbidden."
Adela rubbed her forehead.
"This realm is ridiculously complicated."
"You get used to it. And before you ask, yes, if someone breaks a taboo, the realm itself makes sure others know."
Adela stared at him.
"The realm tattles on people?"
"That is unfortunately a very accurate description."
°°°°°°°
When dinner arrived, Adela quickly realized that meals in Regnum Musicae followed their own strange rhythm too. The dining hall of Epsilon V's residence was spacious and elegant. It was decorated with long white curtains and soft glowing lights hanging from the ceiling. Despite the size of the table stretching almost absurdly wide, only three seats were occupied. Apparently, only Epsilon V, Eta XXVI, and now Adela actually ate there.
The servants remained nearby but never joined. Instead, they quietly assisted when necessary.
Dinner itself looked refined despite the unusual customs surrounding it. Bowls of fragrant stew sat neatly arranged beside warm bread shaped into elegant spirals and patterns unlike anything Adela had seen before. Small dishes of vegetables rested nearby alongside sauces carrying herbal scents she could not identify. Everything looked fancy in presentation, though strangely humble in substance.
The bowls were ceramic. The cups were ceramic. Even the utensils—what little existed—were carved from polished stone or smooth ceramic materials. There were no forks, knives or spoons. Instead, everyone used their hands.
Adela quietly stared.
That felt strange. It wasn't because she disliked eating with her hands. Honestly, thanks to Veneri, she had already adapted to plenty of foods from Earth that practically demanded it. Most of his meals were impossible to eat with proper etiquette anyway, and somewhere along the way she stopped caring whenever he proudly made strange dishes nobody in Spheraphase understood.
Still, she had grown up in a palace. Royal etiquette remained deeply ingrained in her. Cutlery, proper posture and measured decorum was essential for her, especially during political dinners as Grand Duchess where appearances mattered while dealing with mortal merchants and nobles.
And now, she sat staring at stew and fancy bread while everyone casually prepared to eat with bare hands. It felt oddly surreal. Finally, curiosity won.
"Why don't you use cutlery?"
Several nearby maids audibly gasped. One servant nearly dropped the ceramic bowl she carried. Another looked horrified.
"What?"
Eta XXVI sighed dramatically.
"Oh stop exaggerating. She's literally not from here. Obviously our customs are hard for outsiders."
The servants slowly relaxed, though several still looked mildly scandalized. Adela frowned. What exactly had she said wrong?
Epsilon V quietly cleared his throat.
"It's simple. Cutlery disrupts rhythm."
"Rhythm?"
"The sound of metal against plates creates discordant tones. The clicking annoys people."
"You banned forks because they're annoying?"
Eta XXVI looked horrified.
"That's oversimplifying!"
Epsilon V sighed quietly.
"Those who still prefer metal utensils are usually Discordants."
Adela paused.
"So me."
"Yes."
That somehow made things worse.
Adela looked down at the food again before quietly deciding not to overthink it. If she planned to survive here without offending every cultural taboo imaginable, adapting mattered. Slowly, somewhat awkwardly, she copied how the others ate.
The food itself was somewhat good.
The stew carried warmth and rich herbal flavor while the bread tasted soft with faint sweetness beneath the crust. The vegetables were fresh and the sauces were surprisingly balanced. Nothing tasted bad. The problem was, ut felt ordinary.
Without realizing it, she had grown spoiled by Veneri's Earth meals.
Even the strange things he experimented with somehow ruined ordinary food for her over time. His Protection Pentarch staying with her only made it worse because his meals were eaten regardless of any situation, mostly because of his insistence to war food even though they didn't need any to survive.
Now everything else felt lacking. The flavor was there yet somehow, it felt empty. Her body wanted something better. Still, Adela forced herself to continue eating out of politeness and respect. But slowly, something started feeling wrong. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly. The more she ate, the worse it became until finally, she stopped.
"Excuse me."
Without waiting for a response, she stood quickly and left the dining hall. The cold night air hit her immediately once she stepped outside. Adela coughed harshly while gripping the edge of a nearby stone railing as she vomited everything she had eaten. It felt awful. It was like she had forced something her body simply refused to accept.
Panting heavily, Adela wiped her mouth slowly.
"What the hell?"
Her own body had rejected the food. Somehow, that worried her far more than she expected.