In her sight, Eris, Rudy, and Ghislane had already entered the classroom and were turning back.
Allen lifted his foot, ready to step inside—
A sigh.
From behind him—Hilda's.
"Today…"
He stopped and turned.
Looking back.
At that moment—
In Allen's pupils, Hilda's face finally came into focus.
Her expression, reflected in his eyes, was faintly dazed.
"Today… I was happy."
"It's getting late, so let's stop here for today."
"Good night, Allen."
"Good night, everyone."
Her voice was as light as the wind—
As if…
If she spoke too loudly…
The beautiful dream would shatter.
——
At the desk, candlelight wavered.
Outside the window, a bird sang, its call soft and winding.
Allen had once asked Edna what kind of bird sang like this at night.
Edna had smiled and told him it was a bird that lived in hilly regions, not numerous, and because of its gentle, winding song, it was often used in noble literature as a symbol of love.
The dove that sang of love…
Its name—
"Song dove, please don't sing tonight. I… don't want to hear it."
The firelight licked across Sylphy's face.
The song dove ignored her plea.
On the desk before her lay an open diary.
It had been half an hour since she'd opened it.
Not a single word had been written.
An hour had passed since the etiquette lesson had ended.
After the excitement wore off, Eris had quickly grown tired. Ever since skipping classes with Allen, she spent nearly all her time training swordsmanship—aside from the occasional burst of Fireball in magic class.
With such high-intensity training, she was always exhausted soon after dark, sometimes even dozing off while Edna was still talking.
Today's dancing had only delayed it a bit. When Hilda left, Eris was already drowsy, and in the end, Ghislane had carried her back to her room.
Allen and Sylphy hadn't felt like talking much either. After washing up, they had gone straight to their own rooms.
Sylphy's reddish-brown eyes stared at the diary, her gaze unfocused.
Her thoughts were still caught on Hilda's tears.
Hilda had offered no explanation, but Sylphy felt certain something important had happened.
What could make the lady cry?
Was it seeing, in Allen as he danced, the shadow of her own child?
But if that were all, why that moment?
Her mood had seemed fine earlier, and in the past half year, even when speaking of her child, she had only shown a fleeting sadness—
Eleven years.
She had "grown used to it."
And when she left, her expression had seemed normal.
But from their months of living together, Sylphy could tell—the lady had left too quickly. And her last words… carried a strange weight.
She'd been in tears.
Yet she'd said she was happy.
"…Ugh."
Sylphy covered her face and sighed.
Somehow, she felt she had messed something up.
Because the truth was plain before her:
She had tried.
And the result—
Hilda was in tears. Allen was listless.
And their relationship had not advanced at all.
Had the plan failed?
Should she tell Rudy everything?
But where to start? Should she say outright that she saw Hilda crying? And then… what next?
She slumped onto the desk, letting her mind go blank.
Before her—
Words.
"So I want to ask you.
You, who are always at Allen's side.
You, who can see how he's doing at any time.
Help him."
From Lilia's letter.
Sylphy blinked, exhaled, and pushed herself up, patting her cheeks lightly.
Stay strong, Sylphy!
Calm down—sort this out carefully.
The situation wasn't clear yet.
Should she just tell Hilda outright that Allen is Allen? Then persuade Allen to face her?
Sylphy frowned.
Her instincts told her—that was the worst choice.
Never mind what Allen would think—if Hilda knew this was her child, then what?
Would she acknowledge him? Make it public that Allen was part of the Boreas family?
What would Lord Sauros do?
Their relationship was already like a bowstring ready to snap. Philip knew Allen's identity, Sauros knew too—but they pretended not to.
That pretense was the only reason Allen could stay at the Boreas estate as a tutor.
For Lord Sauros, that was the furthest he could stretch his "indulgence." Any further, and it would snap. Their half-year of avoiding each other and never speaking made that plain.
To openly defy Boreas tradition—an "Iron Heart" like Sauros would never accept it.
If Allen's identity were openly acknowledged… it might be the day Sauros decided to send him back to the capital.
Send him… back to the capital—
Sylphy's eyes widened.
In an instant, Hilda's reaction that evening flashed through her mind.
The reason they stayed unacknowledged was because acknowledging him would mean Allen must return to the capital!
The lady in tears—
When was the last time?
The day Allen first arrived, when she had mistaken him for her child.
Why no tears since then?
Because she had told herself it was only an illusion.
But today—why tears?
Because—
It was no longer an illusion.
She had recognized her child.
Through the signs in the etiquette lesson, she had confirmed Allen's identity!
But Boreas tradition had kept her in check.
So those strange reactions…
Sylphy shot up from the desk, rushed to the door, stripped off her nightclothes for a dress—forgetting the elegance she had cultivated these past months.
She was anxious. Flustered.
Her hand gripped the doorknob—ready to rush to Allen's room.
But as she turned it, her body froze.
She blinked.
Opened the door slowly.
Barefoot, silent.
She stepped to Allen's door.
The hallway was so still she could hear her own heartbeat.
Before her, his room was quiet as ever.
She raised her hand, hovering before the door.
Ready to knock.
(End of Chapter)
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