Chapter 302: Little Rose-2

At the sound of the name, the frosty mask on Seraphina’s face cracked.

The princess’s eyes flickered, widening in a sudden, quiet shock that caught in her throat.

The name was so close to Rosalie—her mother.

Seraphina’s fingers uncurled slowly on her lap, the icy frost in her crimson eyes thawing into something unexpectedly soft and defenseless.

"Rosslyn," Seraphina repeated. She uncrossed her slender legs, leaning slightly forward. The terrifying imperial aura simply vanished, leaving behind an older sister who rarely had the luxury of being human. "You have a remarkably lovely name, Lady Rosslyn."

Rose’s eyes lit up. Abandoning all decorum, the little girl bounded forward until she was standing directly in front of the princess’s knees.

"My father chose it!" Rose declared proudly, leaning up on the very tips of her toes to inspect Seraphina’s face with curiosity. Her gaze lingered on the silver-white tresses falling over the princess’s shoulders. "Your hair... it really does float like moonlight! Does it glow in the dark? Grandfather said the capital was full of wolves and monsters, but you don’t have claws at all!"

Emma let out a choked, desperate cough, turning her head toward the curtain to muffle a violent fit of laughter. "Wolves and monsters... Gods bless the Earl’s bedtime stories. He’s not wrong, though."

Beside her, Norelia’s eyes sparkle. The petite genius let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak that sounded like a boiling kettle. "Eren... look at her... she’s so round and tiny, so cute... I want to adopt her..."

"Control your urges, Professor," Eren said casually, sitting back on his seat. "Why does your family love to adopt anyone on sight."

Aria, meanwhile, was having the time of her life. The villainess tilted her head back against the velvet cushion as she watched the untouchable imperial princess struggle to maintain authority over a little girl.

"Go ahead, Your Highness. Answer the young lady. Tell her about the claws you use on insubordinate nobles."

Seraphina threw a sharp, side-eye glare toward the smug heiress, but it had zero impact. Turning back to the wide-eyed girl in front of her, the princess slowly reached out. With delicate precision, she extended a hand toward Rose.

Rose didn’t hesitate. She slapped her palm right into Seraphina’s slender fingers, holding on with a firm grip.

"No claws," Seraphina said softly. "And while my hair unfortunately does not glow in the dark, I assure you... there are no wolves inside this room."

Rose tilted her head, eyes narrowing in deep evaluation as she scanned the crown of Seraphina’s head.

"Where is your sparkly crown?" Rose asked, her brow furrowing with undeniable tragic disappointment. "All the true princesses in the picture books have pretty golden tiaras! Did a dragon steal it?"

Seraphina blinked, caught entirely off-guard.

"I... do not wear one when traveling, Lady Rosslyn," Seraphina murmured, feeling remarkably small under the crushing weight of a six-year-old’s aesthetic critique. "Imperial protocol dictates that formal coronets are reserved for official state galas and court audiences in the capital."

Rose’s chubby lower lip instantly began to jut out into an apocalyptic pout. Her eyes clouded over with profound, world-ending gloom, her shoulders slumping.

Seraphina evidently sensed the impending emotional catastrophe.

"Wait," Seraphina said softly.

She turned her palm upward between them. With a whisper of concentrated mana, the air grew crisp and cool, a faint, crystalline chime echoing through the parlor. Within seconds, a flawless, breathtaking tiara of spun glacial ice materialized on her palm.

Gently, the princess leaned down and settled the frosty crown atop Rose’s hair.

"For you," Seraphina murmured, the faintest flush of pride tinting her pale cheeks. "A sovereign for House Reodeo’s young lady."

Rose froze, her little hands shooting up to delicately pat the crystalline peaks resting on her head. Her violet eyes flared so wide they practically swallowed her face, sparkling with absolute, incandescent awe.

"It’s... it’s real ice!" Rose squealed, bouncing on the tips of her shiny shoes, the rainbow light scattering across the ceiling. "I’m a snow princess! Mama, look—wait, will it melt when I go near the fireplace?"

"Not on my watch, it won’t," a soft, determined voice piped up.

Norelia had already slid off the couch. The petite professor scurried over and knelt beside Rose.

"A simple transient cryogenic construct lacks thermodynamic stability," Norelia muttered, her fingertips already glowing with a warm, golden lattice of preservation runes. "Allow me to invert the entropy threshold."

With a tap of her glowing index finger against the tiara, the fragile frost solidified into an eternal, diamond-hard crystalline crown, perpetually cool to the touch but completely immune to melting.

"There," Norelia beamed, looking absurdly proud of herself as she patted Rose’s chubby cheek. "Permanent structural integrity achieved."

Rose clapped her hands in absolute ecstasy, letting out a joyful, high-pitched giggle.

Having officially acquired royal regalia, the newly crowned snow monarch turned her tactical attention across the parlor. Her bright eyes locked dead onto the tall, imposing figure sitting quietly on the couch.

Rose stood right in front of Emma’s knees.

The pink-haired Captain stiffened instantly. Her storm-grey eyes darted down to the tiny girl in panic.

"Hello, giant lady," Rose chirped, leaning in close to inspect the rolled-up sleeves of Emma’s formal shirt. Her tiny fingers reached out, fearlessly prodding the firm, sculpted muscle of Emma’s tanned forearm. "Your arms are so big and brown! Are you secretly a mountain knight? Did you wrestle a bear?"

Emma choked on her own breath.

"I—well—I mean—" The continent’s deadliest Swordmaster stammered, her voice completely losing its usual commanding edge. She looked desperately toward Eren for tactical extraction, but the bastard was simply leaning back against the cushions, resting his chin on his knuckles with a smirk that said ’you’re entirely on your own, Captain.’

"I... I am an army captain of House Volsver," Emma managed to get out, her voice dropping into an adorably clumsy, hushed tone as if she were terrified of speaking too loudly and shattering the child. "I don’t wrestle bears, Lady Rosslyn, not just—"

"Are you the prince’s knight?" Rose interrupted with pure, unquestioning admiration. "Do you protect him with your big muscles? You look so warm and strong, like a big, pretty sun."

Something deep, primal, and violently dormant detonated directly behind Emma’s ribs.

The battle-hardened captain froze. Her storm-grey eyes melted, turning impossibly soft and glistening with sudden, overwhelming warmth. Her maternal instincts roared to life like an overprotective dragon finding its first hatchling.

Emma’s hands gently reached down. With infinite, trembling care, she cupped the little girl’s tiny shoulders, her throat tightening around an unexpected lump of emotion.

"I... I protect him, yes," Emma whispered, a breathtaking, radiant smile breaking across her flushed, tanned face. "And if anyone ever tries to hurt you, little lady... you just tell me. I’ll make sure the monsters never even see the sunrise."

’Well,’ Eren thought, his heart doing a flip as he watched Emma fuss over the girl’s collar. ’The Swordmaster officially has baby fever. I am definitely not surviving the next few months.’