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The chatter around him continued, but Allen remained still, his gaze fixed on the stained-glass skylight above the banquet hall.
The sunset painted the sky beyond the glass in hazy hues, framing the Iron Heart in a fiery outline.
Crimson light spilled downward.
Seared into his pupils.
Slowly, Allen raised his hand—
As if grasping the Iron Heart above.
"Boreas'..."
"Iron Heart."
The whisper escaped him, soft, drowned out by the echoing voices around him.
Yet the next instant—
Hilda, Sylphie, Rudeus, Eris, and Ghislaine all stopped mid-conversation.
Ten eyes locked onto him.
Allen, still lost in thought, was abruptly yanked back to reality by the sheer weight of their stares—like an air-raid siren blaring in his Flow Sense.
He stiffly turned his head, meeting their burning gazes.
...Why is everyone looking at me?
He blinked awkwardly.
"...It's pretty," he muttered, pointing upward. "Iron Heart."
Hilda's lips curled.
"The crest atop the tower is even more striking."
"Really?! Mother, take us there! Allen needs to see it!" Eris immediately pivoted, her voice pitching into a lion cub's demanding whine.
Rudeus winced, clapping his hands over his ears.
Hilda sighed.
"Your grandfather is likely there right now. It's best not to disturb him—and it's too dark to see clearly now."
"Ughhh!"
Eris puffed her cheeks, then spun back to Allen, crossing her arms and jutting her chin.
"Fine! I'll take you another day! And Sylphie—you bring Rudeus too!"
She looked inordinately pleased with herself.
No one understood why.
Allen/Rudeus/Sylphie:
"Thanks..." ×3.
Hilda stifled a laugh.
The others just stared at Eris, baffled.
"Eris." Hilda smoothed down her daughter's unruly cowlick.
"Hm?"
"Before worrying about the tower, perhaps focus on what's immediately ahead."
"Eh?"
Hilda leaned down, meeting Eris' eyes.
"Your tenth birthday banquet will be held here. Nobles from across the territory will attend. Unlike your fifth birthday, this time—you must lead the opening dance. No more watching from the sidelines. And..." A teasing lilt. "Many young gentlemen may ask for your hand."
"Wha—"
"t."
"Do."
"I."
"Do?!"
With each deliberate syllable from Hilda, Eris' face twisted further into horrified disbelief.
"Do I have to?! Dancing's pointless!"
"Your grandfather will be furious if you refuse."
"Ugh! I—I'll suck at it! Why do I have to do things I'm bad at?!"
"Don't worry. Edna will drill you thoroughly."
Eris faltered, glancing at Sylphie and Rudeus. Pride kept her from outright whining "I don't wanna!"—not under their watchful eyes, not in front of her mother.
Grudgingly, she mumbled:
"...Fiiine."
Hilda's smile deepened as she glanced at Allen. Surrounded by her children (real and adopted), teaching them—it lightened her heart.
Then her gaze slid past him, landing on Sylphie—who had been stealthily melting behind Rudeus, stiff as a board.
"But you won't be alone, Eris. Sylphie will learn too."
Under the sudden scrutiny of Allen and Rudeus, Sylphie froze.
"Huh?!"
Eris' eyes lit up. No questions—just instant relief.
Misery loves company!
A universal truth, transcending worlds.
"Really?!"
Hilda nodded.
"Since we're already here, with the perfect setting... Consider this a preview. Today, we'll skip basic etiquette and focus on ballroom manners."
Eris' joy evaporated. No delay?!
Sylphie mirrored her shock.
No warning?!
Just yesterday, she'd learned she might dance with Allen—zero mental preparation. Her only goal had been luring Hilda into teaching etiquette.
Now, without time to panic, they were already in the ballroom.
Starting lessons?!
Too sudden!
Too direct!
Hilda chuckled, taking Eris' hand.
"These aren't just Boreas customs—they're Asuran noble dances. Our family's flair is merely woven in."
She stepped back, guiding Eris' stiff limbs.
Their arms linked—pale silk bridging black-and-white formalwear and a crimson gown.
"Dances vary, but two are essential: the Asuran Court Minuet—"
A glide forward, their bodies aligned but distanced. Hilda's feet shifted in precise half-steps, pausing every two beats, steering Eris' clumsy movements.
Eris, flustered, kept trampling Hilda's toes.
Yet Hilda never flinched. Her skirts swirled gracefully, spinning like petals in wind.
"—Used for formal events. The steps are restrained, maintaining respectful space without seeming cold. Easier to master."
"But..."
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 245 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 40 power stones I will publish the next chapter.