Chapter 2.3 – Between Suspicion and Jealousy
Jérémy Chapi:
"Take your time to think about it, my daughter. If I have to, I'll find another way. I won't let anything happen to you."
I could see that my words had unsettled her. She remained lost in thought, her mind clearly elsewhere.
"Don't put yourself under pressure. There must be other solutions. If I managed to bring you into this world once... then I should be able to do it again," I added, watching her pout.
A sudden growl from my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything since waking up on the workshop floor. It was already one o'clock in the afternoon.
"Ah... I think I'm going to head to the cafeteria and grab something to eat before my dinner with President Atlas tonight."
My daughter came with me, though she remained unusually quiet throughout the walk. Once we reached the cafeteria, she sat down at a table while I went to order our meal.
Our arrival rarely went unnoticed. Several soldiers watched us with visible caution, though none of them approached to speak with us. Had they been given orders? Or were they simply wary of us after everything that had happened?
There was no way to know.
I used one of the self-service kiosks to order my meal. It was a remarkably convenient system, especially since I didn't speak their language. Fortunately, pictures of steak and fries were universal. I added a small salad topped with mixed nuts, including walnuts and pine nuts.
After collecting my receipt, I picked up a tray with cutlery, a piece of bread, and a bottle of water before waiting for my meal. Once my plate was ready, I returned to the table and sat across from my daughter.
"I have to admit," Iris said with a mischievous smile, "you've been eating a lot better since we arrived here than you ever did back at the barn."
"I can't argue with that," I replied as I cut into my steak. "It's a nice change from instant noodles and frozen meals. Everything here is fresh and high quality... and I have to admit, it's a real pleasure."
The tenderness of the meat, coated in pepper sauce, paired perfectly with the homemade fries and the crisp salad. Yet I noticed it was becoming increasingly difficult to cut my food. My left hand trembled ever so slightly with each movement.
Completely absorbed in my meal, I was startled when I noticed the dark look Iris was directing toward someone on my left.
"Hello. I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch," a familiar voice said.
I turned my head and immediately recognized Natali.
I swallowed my mouthful before answering.
"Hello," I replied, a little awkwardly.
"I've come to let you know that, as of today, I will no longer be responsible for your security detail. Someone else will escort you to your dinner with President Atlas this evening."
She glanced briefly at my injured arm, gave a slight bow, and walked away as quickly as she had arrived, leaving me no chance to respond.
For a moment, I remained frozen, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Why such a sudden change?
And more importantly...
Why was my daughter looking so upset?
I was about to stand and catch up with Natali when I met Iris's gaze.
The darkness in her eyes made me sit back down beside her instead.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I asked, setting my cutlery aside.
"Nothing, Father," she answered quickly, avoiding my eyes.
"Then why are you looking at me like that?" I pressed gently.
"Was it really that obvious?"
"Let's just say..." I smiled faintly, hoping to lighten the mood. "You still have a little work to do if you want to hide your emotions."
Her expression immediately hardened.
"She hurt you on the bus."
Her voice was firm.
"I can't forgive that."
She was right.
Our last conversation with Natali had ended on a bitter note, especially after she had grabbed my injured arm and reopened the wound
"You know," I said as I cut another piece of steak, "we were both exhausted that day. She was under a lot of pressure... and so was I. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did either."
"But, Father," she interrupted, "she went too far. And on top of that, she listened to our conversation."
"I know, Iris. That bothers me too..." I sighed. "But I don't think she means us any harm... at least, I hope she doesn't."
Iris stared at me for a long moment, silently judging every word I had just spoken.
Then, without warning, she asked,
"Do you have feelings for her?"
I nearly choked on my food. Coughing violently, I grabbed my bottle of water and took a hurried sip before I could answer.
"O-Of course not, sweetheart!" I replied, my cheeks growing warm. "Where on earth did that idea come from?"
"If she truly wanted to hurt us," I continued once I had regained my composure, "she wouldn't spend so much time worrying about us."
I picked up my knife and fork again.
Iris, however, looked far from convinced.
"I'm fine with having a little brother..." she said.
"But not with another woman being with you."
This time I genuinely choked.
I burst into another coughing fit before quickly swallowing another mouthful of water to soothe my burning throat.
"Iris..." I said, avoiding her eyes. "You already know that my heart belongs to someone else."
I lowered my voice.
"And please... don't say things like that in public."
The puzzled look on her face told me she had no idea how embarrassing her words had been.
Out of the corner of my eye, I also noticed that a few people nearby had discreetly started listening to our conversation.
"My daughter..." I asked gently.
"Would you really be jealous if I fell in love with someone?"
"Yes..." she answered softly. "I don't want you to abandon me."
Hearing those words made my heart ache.
"Oh, sweetheart... where did you get an idea like that?" I replied gently. "I could never abandon you."
Yet I could see the fear growing inside her—a fear I didn't fully understand. She genuinely believed that one day I might leave her, despite everything I had done to prove the opposite.
Had I failed her somewhere along the way?
After finishing our meal, we headed to the hangar where the five giant Celestial Rings were housed.
Once our principality was officially established, those Rings would become the cornerstone of our negotiations with other nations. But before any of that, we would have to repay Atlantis. My dinner with President Atlas that evening would undoubtedly revolve around that very subject. One way or another, I intended to repay everything they had done for us.
I greeted each of the Rings in turn.
Only a few answered.
The only one to respond was Jeanne d'Arc.
She greeted me warmly before asking if everything was all right. After I briefly explained what had happened, she quietly drifted back to sleep.
My daughter stood beside me, watching the exchange with the same puzzled expression she always wore whenever I spoke to them. She couldn't hear their voices.
She stared at the Jeanne d'Arc Ring for a long moment, as though hoping to catch something...
A whisper.
A vibration.
Anything at all.
But there was nothing.
Only silence.
"Why...?" she whispered, more to herself than to me.
As far as we knew, only three people could hear them: Daniel, Séraphina, and me.
The following day, both of them would be returning to work after the weekend. I still hadn't seen Séraphina since she had rushed out of the conference hall, and although Daniel had stayed until the end, his uneasiness and silence had been impossible to miss. No doubt he was waiting for the chance to speak with them again.
I needed to sit down with both of them and find out what they wanted to do next.
I hoped they would choose to join my project and help me create new Celestial Rings once I had trained them properly. Until now, I had deliberately held back. If they chose not to stand with us, they could eventually build Celestial Rings of their own—and there was no guarantee they would use them with good intentions.
Even so, I doubted either of them would go down that path.
That was the conclusion Iris and I had reached after countless discussions, especially once she had gotten to know them better.
She even told me that she planned to spend the evening with Séraphina instead of accompanying me to dinner.
That genuinely made me happy.
I wanted her to make friends.
To discover the world on her own.
To live according to her own choices.
Deep down, I was certain that one day, people everywhere would come to appreciate her.
As for me, I was looking forward to seeing President Atlas again.
The last meaningful conversation we had shared had been during our flight to France, followed only by a brief exchange at the United Nations.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly with my daughter as we made a few improvements to her mobile body.
We replaced several components—most notably her mechanical pincers—with more refined robotic hands covered in synthetic human skin.
Although Iris seemed pleased with the result, I couldn't help feeling dissatisfied.
Despite all our efforts, the hands still looked unmistakably robotic, and their movements were far from natural. On top of that, they still lacked the delicate pressure control needed to grasp objects the way a real human hand could.
I took a moment to examine her new hands.
At first glance, they looked almost human.
But I knew they weren't enough.
They were still too rigid, and although the synthetic skin felt soft to the touch, it lacked the subtle flexibility that gave real human skin its lifelike quality. They were missing that natural warmth... that almost imperceptible movement you feel when fingertips brush against something alive.
"What do you think?" I asked.
She slowly opened and closed her articulated fingers, carefully weighing her answer.
"They're... nice. But they're still not quite right, are they?"
A quiet, bittersweet laugh escaped me.
She knew me too well.
"No... not yet. We're getting close, but something is still missing."
Iris tilted her head thoughtfully.
"I can't actually feel the objects I touch. I know I'm holding them... but I don't truly feel them. It's as if... I have no sensory feedback."
I nodded, committing her observation to memory.
I'd have to find a way to integrate far more advanced sensors—something that would allow her to genuinely experience the world instead of merely interacting with it.
Even so...
Seeing my daughter's smile was worth more than any technological breakthrough.
And in that moment, I silently promised myself that I would keep improving...
until one day, I could give her a body truly worthy of the life she deserved.