Temanon was a little tired.
“I must have overdeveloped my muscles.”
When muscles become too large, stamina drains faster.
Even while Seyla slept, bandit attacks had occurred multiple times.
Temanon, seated and still, had used the pinnacle of swordsmanship known as the “Mind Blade” to deal with the raiders.
Without moving a single finger, he conjured intangible blades with sheer thought to eliminate the enemy—silently, so as not to wake Seyla from her peaceful slumber.
Even for someone as skilled as Temanon, it was a taxing feat.
“I’m tired.”
Exhausted, Temanon found himself unimpressed by Lake Bayern.
To him, a lake was just a dip in the ground where water collected.
It wasn’t a place for sword training, either.
He couldn’t quite grasp, intellectually, why Seyla was so happy and excited just from looking at it.
“Why do I feel… happy?”
Watching Seyla joyfully scoop water with her hands, Temanon experienced a new kind of emotion—something he had never felt before.
His daughter was truly mysterious.
“It’s like the fatigue is fading away.”
It reminded him of when he first visited this place with his second and third children.
“They were so excited to go fishing with spears.”
He remembered how thrilled they were on their first attempt at catching fish.
Nowadays, the region had been cleared and such threats were nearly nonexistent, but in the past, this had also been a habitat for aquatic monsters—man-eating mermaids.
“I kind of wish a man-eating mermaid would show up so I could slash it down.”
“Hey! I get to hunt it! You’ve got to let me have it!”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then we’ll settle it with a duel!”
“Sounds good. Bring it on, rookie.”
Though those memories were nice, the feelings Seyla evoked were entirely different.
“So this is another way someone can react when looking at a lake…”
Still unsure why, he took off his shoes and stepped into the water himself.
And strangely, he no longer felt tired.
“…But just now…”
For a brief, fleeting moment, Seyla looked different.
It was as if the bright, radiant world that had surrounded her suddenly lost its light.
“Tears?”
Though Seyla quickly wiped them away and smiled again, Temanon’s sharp eyes didn’t miss it.
From his perspective, it was difficult to understand her tears.
“I must be too much of an adult now… I can’t comprehend your ever-changing heart.”
It made his heart ache.
Should he approach her and offer comfort? Should he ask why she cried?
But in the end, he decided to act as if he hadn’t noticed.
“A clumsy comfort or interference might do more harm than good.”
It seemed Seyla didn’t want her tears to be noticed.
“Thank you for being part of my first experience.”
This was her first time doing something like this? Really?
Temanon clenched his fists tightly.
“Dephelto, you’re not even a friend anymore. Just what kind of parenting is this?!”
Temanon made a silent vow to himself.
He would protect this side of Seyla he saw today.
He would be there for many of her firsts.
“I hope this child laughs a lot.”
After quite some time, they crossed the lake by boat.
“From here, we’ll need to travel by carriage again.”
After riding for a long while, they finally arrived at the Queibec estate.
Seyla stepped down from the carriage and began walking slowly.
“This place has its own charm.”
If the Dvernon estate resembled a European castle, then this felt like stepping into a royal palace from the Joseon Dynasty.
There were no flashy sculptures, but the neatly maintained gardens were striking, and the buildings harmonized beautifully with the towering mountains in the background.
“Well, it was originally inspired by Gyeongbokgung Palace anyway.”
Escorted by a servant dressed in clothing reminiscent of hanbok, Seyla entered the largest and most majestic of the many buildings.
“This is where Lady Queibec works.”
After walking through a long corridor, they arrived at a room.
As the door opened, a pleasant fragrance filled the air.
“So you’re Seyla. Welcome to Queibec, cradle of swordsmanship.”
Inside stood a woman dressed in clean white clothing.
She rose from her desk and walked toward Seyla. Her footsteps were so light they made no sound.
“She’s stunning…”
In her mid-forties, Lady Queibec was incredibly beautiful.
Not just in appearance—there was a noble aura around her that made her feel untouchable.
Even though she wasn’t hostile, Seyla felt oddly uneasy.
“This must be due to the [Majesty of the Absolute] trait.”
Seyla Dvernon and Rachel Queibec were quite similar characters.
In fact, among the development team, Rachel was often described as a middle-aged version of Seyla.
The key difference was that while Seyla carried deep emotional scars and a sense of lack, Rachel had no such weaknesses.
In the story’s world, Rachel Queibec was the person closest to being flawless.
Seyla grabbed her dress and offered a respectful bow.
“Thank you for your warm welcome, Lady Rachel.”
She called her Lady Rachel, not Lady Queibec. An unusual form of address in this world.
She did it deliberately.
“I have to do this right.”
This was necessary to raise the completion of the “World of All Things Beautiful” route.
“How will Rachel respond?”
Much would depend on her reaction.
When Temanon had announced he would return with Seyla, Rachel had found it rather curious.
Seyla? The fool of Dvernon?
Among the noble houses, Seyla was fairly well-known—as the disgrace of the great magical family Dvernon.
A child who couldn’t properly learn magic, was constantly disregarded by her own family, and had even been subjected to a forced paternity test.
Though Seyla had recently shown signs of change, Rachel wasn’t aware of the details.
Commoners didn’t even know her name, and nobles still remembered her as, “Oh, that fool from Dvernon?”
Once a reputation was set, it rarely changed.
“Why?”
Rachel knew her husband often doted on his daughter, but she didn’t believe that was the whole reason.
Still, meeting Seyla again was surprisingly refreshing.
“Something’s changed.”
Long ago, she’d briefly met Seyla—just enough to exchange greetings and pass by.
Back then, the little girl was timid and starved for affection.
“Her eyes have changed.”
Her walk, her demeanor—everything was different now.
Rachel didn’t know what had happened, but Seyla now carried herself with dignity.
There was a quiet confidence about her—nothing overbearing—that made her seem like a true daughter of nobility.
Then Seyla spoke.
“Thank you for your warm welcome, Lady Rachel.”
It had been ages since anyone addressed her that way. Most simply called her Lady Queibec.
Calling someone by name wasn’t exactly disrespectful, but it was certainly uncommon.
“You address me rather unusually.”
Hearing that, Seyla quietly exhaled in relief.
“She doesn’t seem displeased.”
If Rachel held no interest or goodwill, she would have coldly replied with something like, “Am I not worthy of Queibec?”
But when she did have goodwill, she wouldn’t object to the title at all.
Having confirmed Rachel’s reaction, Seyla decided to move on to the next step.
“Before coming here, I read a book about you, Lady Rachel.”
“A book about me?”
“Yes. It was The Perfect Woman by Luceinon K. Oblité. Are you familiar with it?”
Luceinon was still an active author, though not widely known, and had been Rachel’s childhood sweetheart.
Though Rachel generally despised self-glorifying stories, The Perfect Woman was an exception she had read.
“…I know of it, vaguely.”
“The story ends with a great woman of common birth gaining the Queibec name. I found that part a bit disappointing.”
“Disappointing?”
“Yes. While it’s certainly true that Lady Queibec helped Queibec flourish, it was the young Rachel in the story—before she became Lady Queibec—who inspired and moved me far more.”
Wow, I’m really good at flattery. If I handled social life like this, I’d be a top scorer.
In truth, inside Seyla was shouting:
—Rachel unnie, you’re amazing! Unnie? Auntie? Whatever, if you’re awesome, you’re unnie! I! LOVE! YOU! RA! CHEL! R-A-C-H-E-L! VIP!! BEST!!
That’s basically the storm of fan-girling going on inside her head, even though outwardly she maintained a refined and graceful demeanor.
It didn’t even come across as flattery.
Too obvious, and people get put off. Especially someone like Rachel.
But Seyla managed a perfect balance—neither excessive nor lacking. Her praise was pure and sincere.
“I admired the girl in that book. She became my role model and led me to change.”
