The scent of tea filled the room. Afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, casting golden reflections across the low table. Emilia, sitting upright, stared at the amber liquid in her cup. Otto, leaning back in his chair, absentmindedly flipped through a small notebook, his foreign accent betraying his origins with every word. Subaru, slouched in an armchair, wore his usual frustrated expression.
Emilia:
— So… Subaru, did you manage to see Lady Beatrice?
Subaru:
— (sighs) Yeah, well… not really. Beako just said I'd find more answers at the Sanctuary.
Otto closed his notebook and turned his head toward the window. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Otto:
— Hm… your guest is in the garden. Near the rose bushes.
Subaru:
— And?
Otto:
— He's touching them… as if he's discovering their color for the first time.
Emilia:
— …
Otto:
— A man like that… intrigues me. Proud, confident — the kind that carries a rare presence. And yet, no one's ever heard of him. Believe me, in this world, a man like that with no reputation is either a ghost… or someone best avoided.
Subaru:
— Funny you'd say that… because no one really knows you either, right, Otto?
Emilia:
— Exactly. You're a stranger to us too.
Otto raised an eyebrow but didn't answer right away.
Just then, Frederica entered carrying a tray of biscuits. Her warm smile brightened the room, but before setting it down, she too glanced toward the window.
Frederica:
— He has a… peculiar air about him. Not many men linger over flowers like that… especially after a long journey.
Otto:
— Or maybe he's trying to project an image.
Frederica:
— (smiles) Perhaps… but his eyes don't lie. They're neither a noble's, nor a traveler's. You can feel… he comes from far away.
Emilia:
— Maybe he's looking for something. Or someone.
Otto:
— Or maybe he's hiding something.
Subaru:
— Or maybe he just doesn't feel like answering your questions.
Otto shrugged with a faint smirk. Frederica, however, cast one last look out the window.
Madara still stood by the roses, fingers brushing the petals — impassive… or lost in thoughts no one here could guess.
The sun was setting slowly behind the hills. Inside the manor's hall, the golden light merged with the stretching shadows. The others had scattered — Subaru upstairs, Otto with his notebooks, Frederica busy at her tasks. Emilia remained alone for a moment with Madara, who sat near the open window.
The evening breeze made the curtains sway, and the fading light brushed her face with a golden hue.
Emilia: "Madara…"
He turned his head slightly toward her.
She hesitated, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her cloak.
Emilia: "About what you told me in the carriage. When I asked you for a promise… it wasn't meant to be intrusive. It's just that…"
Her voice trembled slightly, but she forced herself to go on.
Emilia: "… this journey to the Sanctuary means a lot to Roswaal. It's a… special place for him. I don't really know why, but everyone talks about it with respect. Almost with fear."
She drew a quiet breath, lowering her gaze for a moment.
Emilia: "And you… I don't know you. Not really. After what happened at the mansion, I can't help being cautious of what I don't understand."
Madara stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the crimson horizon.
Madara: "You're afraid I'll disappear."
Emilia: "I'm afraid you'll leave without warning. Or act on your own, without telling us why."
She looked up, meeting his gaze, hesitant.
Emilia: "I just don't want that kind of silence to put us in danger. That place seems important… and I don't want anyone to start doubting you."
A faint breeze stirred the window. Madara closed his eyes for a brief moment, then answered in a calm, low voice:
Madara: "Very well. As long as we're at the Sanctuary… I'll stay within your sight."
"Another promise. The weak feed on them; the strong burn through them."
Emilia held his gaze, as if to make sure he wasn't lying.
Then she nodded softly, unable to tell whether she should feel relieved or uneasy.
Emilia: "Thank you… that's all I wanted to hear."
Silence settled between them.
Madara turned his eyes back toward the outside world, while Emilia walked away, her heart more troubled than she wanted to admit.
The manor was almost silent. The corridors were bathed in a pale glow, filtered by moonlight through the tall windows. Madara walked slowly, his footsteps muffled by the carpet. He looked relaxed, yet his eyes slid over every door, every painting, as if mapping the place in some hidden corner of his mind.
He stopped for a moment, listening. A faint creak. Then… footsteps. Slow, steady, approaching.
Without a sound, he stepped back into the shadow of a half-open doorway, nearly vanishing into the darkness.
Frederica stopped before him, her amber eyes glinting in the dim light. She smiled faintly, revealing the sharp tips of her canines.
Frederica: "I was wondering if you're the kind to sleep deeply… or not at all."
Madara stepped out of the shadows, the faint gleam of his armor reflecting red even in the low light.
Madara: "And I was wondering if all maids wander the halls at night."
She crossed her arms, amused, though her eyes couldn't quite pull away from him. Something in his presence both captivated and unsettled her.
Frederica: "Maybe I'm keeping watch… or maybe I just can't sleep. Sometimes I feel… gazes. Presences."
She paused, her eyes lingering on him with newfound intensity.
Frederica: "Yours… isn't that of a traveler. Nor a soldier. It's… something else."
Madara stared without replying. His silence weighed heavier than words. She held his gaze for a few seconds, then looked away, shivering — though she couldn't tell if it was from the chill of the night or the strange warmth tightening her throat.
Frederica: "…They say some souls carry traces of monsters or heroes. Yours… I can't yet tell which it is."
Madara slowly walked past her, his silent step brushing near hers. His low voice echoed behind her:
Madara: "Hero or monster… it all depends on who's looking."
The shiver that ran through her wasn't from the cold. She stood still for a moment, lips parted, before walking again, her heartbeat quicker than before.
Their eyes met one last time — briefly — before Frederica continued down the corridor without another word. Madara remained motionless for a moment longer, then vanished once again into the darkness.
By morning, a veil of mist still covered the paved courtyard as preparations began. The deep breath of the earth dragon and the heavy beat of its steps echoed between the walls, mingling with the hurried movement of servants.
Otto:
— Hm… looks like he's already ready.
He nodded toward Madara, who stood apart, arms crossed, staring at the horizon as if he were trying to predict the path before walking it. His stance was upright, rigid — yet he carried the same impression as before: that of a man who revealed nothing.
Frederica(while arranging a bag in the carriage):
— He spent most of the night walking through the halls.
Emilia looked up.
Emilia:
— For what reason?
Frederica shrugged, a faint, enigmatic smile on her lips.
Frederica:
— Maybe curiosity… or simply the habit of someone who doesn't sleep much.
Otto, however, didn't seem amused.
Otto:
— Or of someone who's taking stock… of a house that isn't his.
Subaru:
— We're back to that again, huh…
Madara, as if he'd heard, turned his head slightly toward them. His gaze met Otto's — unwavering, silent. Otto held it, but something in that look made his heart tighten, as if he'd seen eyes like that before… in another time, another place.
"Men always sense the shadow… but never dare name it."
Moments later, everyone was mounted or seated in the carriage. The wheels creaked over the damp gravel, and the small group departed, the mist slowly lifting under the first rays of the sun.
"No matter where they go… I've never stopped walking alone."