Matteo Estate — Dining Hall, Evening
The dining hall of Windswept Manor was something out of legend. The long oak table gleamed like still water, wax-polished to a mirror's sheen. Chandeliers flickered overhead—candlelight and crystal throwing soft, golden shapes against velvet walls the color of dusk. Mana-powered sconces shimmered intermittently, reacting to the rising storm outside.
Elena paused just beyond the arched double doors.
Her eyes swept the room slowly, disbelieving.
"This doesn't feel like real life."
Her shoes made no sound on the carpeted floor. Behind her, Cheri adjusted the fall of her navy organza shawl and gave her a silent nod of encouragement.
Ahead, three figures entered from the opposite side of the hall:
Lady Aurora, the picture of quiet command, her golden hair swept into an intricate twist, pearls glinting at her ears.
Young Phineus, full of energy at 10 years old,
decked in a miniature version of formalwear with polished boots he was already scuffing up.
And Seamus, black dinner jacket over dark navy silks, his expression unreadable except for the flicker in his silver eyes when he saw her.
"There she is."
He stood as she entered, every inch the heir of the house.
"Welcome to your new home, Lady Elena."
Elena dipped into a small curtsy, her body trembling too slightly to notice. Her voice was level when it emerged.
"Thank you."
Steady. Steady. Don't shake, Elena thought to herself. Gods, I hope they don't notice.
Phineus clapped once, ignoring all social protocol.
"You said she was pretty," he announced to the room, "but wow!"
Lady Aurora's eyes went wide.
"Phineus!"
The boy blinked, caught halfway between innocence and glee.
Elena laughed, the sound honest and soft.
"It's alright. Thank you."
"Please… just Elena. I'm honored to be here."
During dinner they sat in the great hall together, the four of them, while servants moved with practiced quiet to deliver course after course. Dishes shimmered beneath silver lids—roasted chicken with peppers and onions, rice seasoned with local spices, herb-stuffed vegetables, and wine that sparkled faintly with mana traces.
Elena couldn't stop staring.
It was more food than she'd seen in a week—maybe a month. Not just indulgent. Ceremonial. A meal meant to impress, or to lull.
Her fingers curled around the stem of her glass, careful not to stain the polished table with spilled wine.
Lady Aurora half smiled, watching Elena take in the sight of the food before here. It was all too familiar.
"Will anyone else be joining us tonight?" Elena asked after the second course.
Seamus glanced toward her but didn't answer first.
Phineus did.
"Ha, that means my brother finally made a friend who's not his attendant!"
Aurora's slippered foot connected soundly with her son's shin.
"Ow!"
Elena pressed a hand to her mouth, laughing in earnest now. A moment later, even Seamus chuckled.
The mood shifted. Just slightly. But enough.
Warmth crept in.
Not from the candles or the heat-stirred spices—but from the feeling that this table had been lonely for too long.
Warm. I feel… warm.
Is this what home feels like?
For a flickering second, she let herself believe it could be.
Seamus barely touched his food. He was watching her.
Not hungrily—not possessively—but as if trying to memorize her.
Every glance. Every nervous laugh. Every time her fingers brushed the edge of her plate and she pulled them back, unused to fine cutlery.
She fits.
How could I ever regret this?
And across the table, Elena's fingers rose to her chest.
The Saintess medal glinted gold in the candlelight.
She smiled.
Just barely.
But it was real.