Novel Full Chapter 219: Nacreous Snowmelt [2]
Chapter 219: Nacreous Snowmelt [2]
The reality Vanitas knew, and the reality that stretched before him now, had blurred into a single indistinguishable line.
What he had once believed to be memory and what he faced in the present overlapped too seamlessly, as though the world itself had conspired to make him question which was truth and which was fabrication.
Each day, countless questions plagued his thoughts, but he refused to chase after them. Seeking answers to something with no clear end was like running after a horse on foot.
An effort destined to fail, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.
Retrieving the coin from his pocket, he stared at it intently for a long moment before tightening his grip around it.
“This is a dud, huh…” he muttered under his breath.
All that effort in pouring time and resources into activating the coin, consulting even the greatest alchemist, Roselyn, hiring adventurers to scour labyrinths on his behalf, then waiting months for the coin’s supposed reactivation, all of it had been for nothing.
In the end, he realized the cues to the Archives of Haven wouldn’t simply be lying around in some forgotten labyrinth, waiting to be picked up by chance.
That much was naïve.
His shoulders slumped as frustration pressed against his chest. “…I’m at a loss.”
The coin, waiting for its reactivation, glimmered faintly in his hand.
“What do you want me to do, Eunah?”
Looking ahead, Margaret and Selena walked around the northern plaza of Frostfall.
This was Frostfall, the capital of the north, a city entrusted to the rule of the Glade Duchy, even way before the late Emperor Decadien’s reign.
Before he realized it, Saintess Selena was already standing before him.
“Are you… just going to keep your distance like that?” she asked.
“Yes?” Vanitas blinked, caught off guard. Then, with a smile, he inclined his head. “My apologies, Selena. I only thought it better to let you ladies enjoy your time together. Please, don’t mind me.”
Selena lowered her gaze, then suddenly clasped his hands around hers in a prayer.
“Marquess, I understand it’s difficult for you to carry a smile. I understand your sorrows and the lack of motivation that keeps you bound. I know you only wish to see the epilogue at the end of your journey… but if you continue to wallow in self-deprecation, can you truly call it living?”
“….”
“I know it doesn’t mean much coming from someone like me. I know the Marquess is well aware that even I’m putting on airs myself.”
And indeed, Vanitas did know that even Selena’s smile was a fake one. Just like him, she too had lost much. Yet despite that, she chose not to burden them in any way whatsoever.
In that sense, she embodied the very idea of what a Saintess should be.
“But the path ahead isn’t only about endings,” Selena continued. “If you blind yourself to everything else, then what meaning will there be when you finally arrive?”
Vanitas exhaled slowly. “Apologies, Selena. But… even that’s far too idealistic.”
“Is it? Can the Marquess see glimpses of the future, just like me?”
“That’s not—”
Before he could finish, Selena leaned forward, clasping his hand tightly in both of hers. The warm smile that suddenly bloomed on her face contrasted with the northern air’s chill.
“Please, rest easy, Marquess.” She glanced around briefly, then lowered her voice to an octave. “The Saintess is telling you there’s nothing to worry about. The future… It’s never certain. But we can shape it. We can make it a future where the conclusion is a happy ending.”
“I—”
Vanitas caught himself before he could finish. It would have been rude to point out that the Saintess, despite her glimpses of the future, had met only failures until now.
Thinking he was not fully convinced, Selena pursed her lips. Vanitas sighed, then reached out and suddenly ruffled her hair.
“….”
She blinked her eyes in surprise, utterly caught off guard. She never imagined Vanitas would be the kind of person to do something like that.
“If it isn’t too rude, I’d like to ask a favor,” Vanitas said. His hand remained atop her head. “Whenever I get lost in my thoughts, just let me ruffle your hair like this.”
“Y-Yes? Ah? Why? That’s—”
“You just look like somebody I used to know.”
“…?”
Selena’s brows furrowed in disbelief. All she had intended was to offer him a bit of consolation, nothing more. She knew Vanitas respected her, even held her in unusually high regard, which was why she thought her words might ease his burden.
But this…
Did the Marquess have an odd fondness for hair?
* * *
That evening, they wandered through the plaza, taking in the sights of the northern attractions. Selena, despite her title and the burdens she had, looked less like the Saintess and more like an ordinary little girl seeing a foreign land for the first time.
Vanitas found himself watching her closely.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if his younger sister, Eunah, had lived longer, would she have grown to be just like Selena?
Selena tugged lightly at his sleeve with bright and curious eyes as she pointed toward a vendor selling sugared chestnuts.
“Marquess, can we…?”
Vanitas hesitated, then allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. “Go on.”
As Selena skipped ahead, Margaret remained at Vanitas’s side. She watched the Saintess with a smile before glancing up at him.
“You really like spoiling her,” she remarked.
Vanitas kept his gaze on Selena. “Do I?”
“Well, I’ve never seen you this happy in a long while. Is this the power of the Saintess?”
“You speak too much, Margaret.”
“If I don’t, I know I’ll regret it.”
“Don’t write me off as dead already.”
“I’m not—”
Vanitas gave her shoulder a light tap before stepping forward. “Come. Let’s not keep the Saintess waiting. She’s already sulking just from us standing here.”
Sure enough, Selena puffed her cheeks a short distance away as she hugged the small pouch of chestnuts to her chest.
* * *
“As we all know, the northern Duchy has requested field experts to examine and analyze a new discovery. This request will be carried out through our very own Marquess, Vanitas Astrea.”
The words echoed through the grand hall of the Scholars Institute. Around him, scholars from every field had gathered in anticipation.
Astrid stood among them, eager. For as long as she could remember, she had longed to set foot in the northern territories as a child after hearing of the Great Power, Friedrich Glade’s contributions to the Great Northern War.
Now, at last, the opportunity had come.
The elder at the podium raised his hand, and the hall quickly fell silent. His voice carried clearly through the chamber.
“According to the detailed report submitted by Marquess Astrea, an anomaly has emerged in the southwestern coordinates of the north. It has taken the form of a mansion. And to the bewilderment of all who have approached it, the voices of the dead can be heard from within.”
As the elder continued, the scholars bent over the documents distributed among them, reading along the details for themselves. Theories began to spread.
But Astrid remained still, her eyes narrowing as she processed the words. Her hands tightened around the parchment.
“Voices of the dead….”
If such a thing were true, then….
“…Mother.”
Could she truly hear the voice of her mother? The late Queen?
“I really must go.”
She was thankful she had set her summit duties aside for this. Ezra had taken over in her stead, insisting she needed a break, or at least some time away from her obligations.
Astrid, however, had no intention of idling. Instead, she resolved to use this opportunity as a chance to deepen her academic knowledge.
Once everything had been prepared with the magic scanning tools secured, the supplies accounted for, and the carriages reinforced for the journey, the expedition finally began.
More than sixty scholars set out through the northern roads. It had been many years since the Scholars Institute last sanctioned an expedition of this scale.
Inside one of the leading carriages, the sound of paper rustled as scholars exchanged notes with their discussions ranging from theories on spectral mana to ancient spirits that could mimic voices of the dead.
More than anything, Astrid felt a rising excitement within her. It wasn’t only the prospect of witnessing a potential breakthrough in the field of historical research that thrilled her, but also the chance to see the professor again.
* * *
A week later, a sudden pressure engulfed the air of the Glade manor. Vanitas, seated by the fireplace with a book in hand, felt the change immediately. His eyes drifted from the page toward the door.
“A guest?” he murmured.
The mana was strong, but not hostile. Setting his cup down, he rose from his chair and stepped out of the study. In the hall, he stopped as a maid approached, bowing quickly before him.
“M-Marquess… good timing. The Lord requests your presence in his study.”
“Lead the way.”
She straightened with a nod and guided him through the manor’s corridors.
When the maid finally stopped before the Lord’s study, she lowered her head once more. Vanitas dismissed her with a glance and pushed the door open.
“Marquess Astrea,” Friedrich Glade said, his hands clasped together on the desk. “I know you’ve clashed before, but this should be your first formal meeting, correct?”
“…?”
“It’s been a while, Vanitas Astrea.”
Standing before the northern duke’s desk was a woman in uniform. The military cap atop her head stood out, along with several insignias that bore the markings of the Zyphran Dominion’s navy.
“Indeed it has, Lady Vermillion,” Vanitas replied.
It was Iridelle Vermillion, one of only three Admirals of the Bundesritter Navy.
“The two of you, please sit while we wait for another guest,” Friedrich said, gesturing toward the seats before him.
“Another guest?” Vanitas asked, tilting his head.
“Another guest?” Vanitas tilted his head slightly.
How many people had Friedrich summoned personally?
“I believe you know her quite well,” Friedrich continued, “I was surprised myself when I saw her name among the guest list.”
“Her…?”
As though on cue, the door opened. A woman with golden hair stepped inside. Vanitas’s brows rose slightly at the sight, though his expression quickly returned to its usual calm.
“We are honored by your presence, Princess,” Friedrich said, inclining his head.
The third guest was none other than Astrid Barielle Aetherion. For a moment, she stood silently by the entrance.
Her eyes alternated from Vanitas to Friedrich, then to Iridelle, before finally settling back on Vanitas again.
Drawing in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, calmed the pounding of her heart, and stepped forward. Taking the seat beside Vanitas, she tried to compose herself.
A flood of questions surged in Vanitas’s mind, but the first left his lips in an even tone.
“What is the Princess doing here?”
“That is my question as well,” Friedrich replied. “It’s the very reason I asked her to come to the manor personally.”
“Then perhaps we should hear it directly from the Princess herself.”
All eyes turned toward Astrid. She drew in a breath before speaking.
“I am among the Scholars who received Marquess Astrea’s letter. As a Scholar, it is my duty to take part in a potential breakthrough that may very well be remembered in history.”
“How wonderful,” Iridelle remarked. “I’ve heard much of the eccentricities of the Aetherion siblings, but it seems the youngest princess is the most ordinary among them.”
Astrid’s lips curved into a smile at the unexpected compliment. Yet before she could fully indulge in it, Vanitas, with his lips pressed into a firm line, glanced her a look that doused it instantly.
“Return home.”
“Ah?”
“This expedition is not suited for you.”
The silence in the room deepened. Iridelle raised a brow while Friedrich observed without interference.
Astrid’s hands tightened in her lap. The brief smile from moments ago was now gone.
“You can’t be serious,” she said. “I came here on my own accord. I will not simply turn back.”
“Have you received permission from the Emperor, your brother?” Vanitas asked. “This may be a scholar’s duty, yes, but before being a scholar, you are a princess. And it is the duty of the Empire’s subjects to ensure no harm comes to their princess.”
“Wha—Permission? D-Duty?”
The words struck her like a blow. They weren’t exactly correct. The citizens of the Empire bore no such obligation. Yet her mind was in such turmoil that she couldn’t muster the clarity to argue otherwise.
Iridelle let out a chuckle, breaking the silence. “Vanitas Astrea, your way of phrasing things leaves little room for the Princess to breathe.”
“Send her back, Duke Glade.”
Vanitas didn’t so much as glance at her and looked at Friedrich instead. “Send her back, Duke Glade.”
Astrid’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”
Iridelle smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “You really are merciless. To dismiss the Princess outright, do you truly expect her to sit quietly and obey?”
“If she truly read my report,” Vanitas replied, “then I expect her to have the common sense to know this is out of her league.”
Astrid’s jaw tightened. Her fingers curled against her dress, and for a moment she seemed ready to rise from her seat.
But before she could, a voice cut through the tension from the doorway.
——Why? Are you afraid, professor?
“Who dares—” Vanitas began, but the words froze on his tongue.
His eyes widened as he turned toward the door. The one standing there was the last person he expected to appear in this place. He blinked once, then twice, half-expecting her to fade away.
Yet she remained where she was, and the sudden tightness in his chest only deepened. He forced the feeling down, preparing to address her.
But before he could speak, Iridelle’s voice rang out.
“Karina! I told you to wait in the guest lobby!”