Three minutes had passed since the last echo of voices faded through the grand obsidian corridors of the Rotschy estate. Outside, the
evening sky blushed with soft hues of orange and violet as the sun dipped behind the western mountains. Warm winds rustled
through the dense pine forest surrounding the estate, carrying the distant chirping of birds and the occasional crackle of falling leaves.
Autumn had begun to kiss the land gently, but inside the mansion, a very different warmth enveloped everything.
Within the luxurious heart of the estate, the atmosphere was soaked in a comforting heat, not from a fireplace or furnace, but from the blazing mana of Lady Elizabeth Rotschy herself. Her flame mana filled the stone walls
like a living breath, humming lowly in the background, giving the entire mansion a homely glow and gentle warmth like that of a sunlit greenhouse.
In the main lounge, Naoko Rotschy, the eldest daughter and the infamous Matriarch-in-
waiting, sat sprawled across the velvet sofa with a posture of utter indifference. She wore nothing but a dark sports bra that clung to her
graceful form and short, distressed denim jeans that left little to the imagination. Her toned stomach was bare, smooth, and
flawless, her long silver hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid metal. Her legs
crossed loosely, one thigh resting over the other, bare and pale under the glow of Elizabeth's gentle flame mana.
Her silver eyes, cold and vacant, stared blankly toward the ornate ceiling. Her expression remained untouched, a mask of
stillness that radiated an unsettling quiet. She looked like a goddess carved from winter stone—beautiful, distant, and unfeeling.
Beside her, Tishara Rotschy, the younger of the two sisters, sat with one leg curled under her. Her long platinum-blonde hair shimmered in the warm air, and her silver eyes were far
more lively than Naoko's—gleaming with curiosity and mischief. Her voice cut through the silence as she tilted her head toward her older sister.
"Sister dearest," Tishara purred with a teasing smirk. "Why exactly did you kill the God of Destruction?"
Naoko didn't shift, didn't even blink. Her voice, when it came, was as flat and uncaring as her gaze.
"Don't concern yourself."
Tishara raised an eyebrow and leaned closer, her tone turning more playful.
"Why not? Don't tell me you're still that cold-hearted. Should I slap your ass again to wake you up?"
Naoko turned her head slightly, just enough to look at her sister, her silver eyes narrowing without much effort.
"Try it," she murmured. "And I'll break every bone in your body."
Before the tension could spark, a new voice entered the room, calm yet stern with the weight of maternal command.
"Girls," said Elizabeth Rotschy as she stepped gracefully into the room. Her long, platinum hair swept behind her like a royal veil. Her gray eyes glowed with wisdom, patience, and the eternal strength of a mother who had raised two terribly powerful daughters. "No fighting. Dinner is ready."
She approached with the elegance of a queen but the warmth of a fireplace. She placed a gentle hand on Naoko's head, ruffling her hair with affection, then did the same to Tishara. She leaned in and kissed each daughter on the cheek.
Naoko, ever unchanging, turned her face away as if the kiss had burned her, and silently wiped her cheek with a handkerchief. Her voice was detached as always.
"Was that really necessary?"
Elizabeth smiled softly and cupped her eldest daughter's face.
"Of course it was, sweetheart. A mother must show her love. And one day, when you become a mother, you'll understand."
Naoko pulled her face away gently, unfazed.
"I have no intention of becoming one."
Tishara burst into laughter, her silver eyes sparkling with delight.
"She's right, Mother! Can you imagine Naoko with a child? She'd forget to feed it."
Elizabeth's expression turned sharp as she turned toward Tishara.
"Enough." Her voice cut like a blade wrapped in velvet. "Tishara, that was uncalled for. Your sister deserves your respect. Don't speak so carelessly. No matter what you think, Naoko is your elder and she's cared for you more than you seem to remember."
Tishara immediately lowered her gaze, a tinge of guilt crossing her face.
"I'm sorry, big sister," she whispered.
Naoko remained still, as if the apology passed through her like wind. But Elizabeth noticed the subtle softening in her eldest daughter's posture, the faint drop of tension in her shoulders. Naoko never responded emotionally, but Elizabeth—her mother, her only true confidant—had long learned to read her without needing words.
Elizabeth stepped closer and embraced Naoko from the side, holding her gently as her mana pulsed like a heartbeat. It was not burning or aggressive—just warm, like love turned into heat.
"It's alright, my sweet Naoko," she whispered. "Mama is here. Everything is fine."
And for a moment—just one fleeting second—Naoko leaned into her mother's warmth, not fully, but enough for Elizabeth to notice. Enough for her to know that beneath the godlike coldness, her daughter still had a heart.
Tishara sat silently, watching the scene. Shame clung to her like a heavy coat. She loved her sister, even if she didn't know how to show it without teasing. But she also knew how hard Naoko's life had been—how much pressure, how many battles, how much blood had been spilled for the Rotschy name. And now, in this quiet moment surrounded by flame-lit walls and the smell of roasted lamb from the dining hall, she felt something rare: guilt.
Elizabeth stood and extended her hand to both daughters.
"Come now," she said, voice warm. "Let's eat. There will be plenty of time for fighting after dessert."
The three Rotschy women exited the lounge together, their shadows stretching long across the marble floor as they disappeared into the golden hallway.
Outside, the stars began to pierce through the fading sunlight, and the estate stood bathed in the glow of magical warmth—an ancient, cursed family bound by blood, flame, and silence.
.....
Heat: Well, what do you think about the old Rotschy family?