"What do you want to drink?" After their brief exchange that somehow turned into silence, Emma finally broke the pause as she walked toward the small kitchen.
William, regaining his composure, replied, "Anything hot and sweet."
Emma hummed softly. "I’ll make some milk tea. You can sit wherever you like."
William chose a chair. One of the beds was covered with the bedsheet rope she had thrown earlier, and the other probably belonged to Dorothy—so he avoided both.
As Emma began crushing something with a small stone grinder, William asked, "Are you ready for this contest?"
Without looking up, Emma continued grinding the seeds into a fine powder and said calmly, "What’s there to prepare for? I just keep training. In the end, we’ll only know what we’re up against once we get there."
Emma had read the novel before. She knew what the Goblet of Honor was supposed to be like. But now... things were changing.
Talobo’s interference during the assessment, the appearance of those golems, and even that strange arrival—none of it was mentioned in the story.
And it all began that day when she made the contract with the Shaman to break William’s curse.
Since then, the future was no longer something she could predict.
But was she regretful? Not at all. She would never regret freeing William from those chains that had been draining his life and forcing him to do things against his will.
"I’m not sure if I’m excited though," William sighed, leaning back in the chair.
His gaze wandered to the wall, where several hand-drawn paintings were displayed.
One of them caught his attention.
It showed a man standing on an elevated platform, while countless hands reached up toward him in reverence. The figure above them had golden hair, his presence almost divine, as though blessing the crowd below.
"That’s you," Emma said suddenly, already beside him, holding two steaming cups.
William blinked, surprised, as he accepted one. "What? Really?"
Emma nodded and sat on the bed across from him. "When I saw you that day... fighting Kaizek, it felt like I was watching a divine being toy with a mortal."
William gave a faint, wry smile. "That... I might’ve seemed a bit too proud. I was drunk on my power. After having it back for the first time in so long, I couldn’t hold myself back."
The memories of that fight were still blurred, but the emotions were vivid.
He remembered the rush—the sheer elation and fulfillment that surged through him. The feeling of regaining control over his own body and mind was freeing. Exhilarating.
"Have you ever thought about your origin?" Resting the cup on her thigh, Emma confessed softly, "Actually, I did a little research."
William hummed, withholding his answer and signaling her to go on.
"And I found nothing," she admitted.
William took a sip before replying, "Well, same here. Nothing."
There was no record in history of anyone who could control both types of energy. Not even the Progenitors of the Devils, nor the highest-ranked Angel—Starlight Michael—had ever been able to wield the opposite force.
It sounded absurd when viewed from an outsider’s perspective.
And Emma might’ve thought the same—if she hadn’t met the very anomaly sitting before her.
William exhaled quietly. "It’s such a sensitive topic that I couldn’t bring myself to ask the people who might actually know the answer."
Emma nodded. "I never asked my father either, even though his archives hold secrets that the world will never see."
William gave a faint smile. "And I’m grateful you didn’t. Until I uncover the truth behind this absurd phenomenon, I don’t want anyone else to know about me."
"I understand," Emma said, her tone steady. "And I’ll help you learn more about who you are."
A warm silence lingered between them.
Having a girl who understood him so deeply and carried herself with such quiet maturity... William couldn’t help but feel he had used up all his luck just to have her beside him.
"What? Why are you smiling all of a sudden?" Emma asked, tilting her head with a faint, curious grin.
William shook his head lightly. "The tea’s good."
Emma narrowed her eyes playfully, lips curving into a smile. "Sometimes I wish I had your mind-reading skills."
William chuckled, finishing the last sip of tea before asking, "Did you have lunch?"
Emma hesitated, then shook her head. "No... I couldn’t eat anything. I was too nervous."
His eyes widened. "Wait, so you haven’t eaten since morning?"
She shook her head again.
William groaned, standing up. "Seriously? What if you had collapsed in the middle of our date? All my preparation would’ve gone to waste." He rolled up his sleeves and walked toward the small kitchen, scanning the ingredients with a sigh.
Emma giggled softly. "Don’t worry. My father trained me to go a week without food and still have the strength to fight."
William turned toward her, amused. "A father can be that strict with his daughter?"
Emma tilted her head, resting her chin on her hand. "Your father must be gentle then, right?" She had heard stories—that Count Delimore adored William so much he donated to the academy every month just to keep him enrolled.
The truth was, without the Count, William would never have made it this far.
William’s smile softened. "My old man never told me to do anything. But once, when I was little and had just awakened my powers, he said something I never forgot."
Emma looked up, listening quietly.
"He told me, ’Thirty years from now, when you look back on your life... I want to see you smiling, not filled with regret.’"
Emma’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, the gentle sound of the kettle filling the quiet room.
She smiled softly. "That’s... a very inspiring thing to say."
William nodded, his voice lowering with a trace of nostalgia. "Despite everything I did all these years—tormenting Kevin and the others, constantly failing exams, always ending up at the bottom of the list—he never once scolded me. Whenever I went home, he’d just smile, ruffle my hair, and say, ’Look at you, all grown up.’"
Emma’s eyes softened as she gazed at him. "You love him, don’t you?"
William didn’t answer, but his quiet smile said everything.
In that moment, Emma made a silent decision.
She had already understood how important Count Delimore was in William’s life. And because of that... she knew what she had to do.
*It’s about time I find a book on how to be a good daughter-in-law,* she thought with a shy smile, her cheeks faintly warm as she watched him from across the room.