The celebration continued.
Music flowed through the grand ballroom.
Crystal glasses clinked together.
Servants moved gracefully among the guests.
Laughter occasionally echoed beneath the glittering chandeliers.
Yet beneath every celebration...
There were always shadows.
And shadows often carried questions.
Questions people were unwilling to ask openly.
Questions spoken only in whispers.
Questions shared behind wine glasses and lowered voices.
Especially when monsters were involved.
At the far side of the ballroom, several nobles stood together near one of the large windows overlooking Frostbound Coast.
The city lights glittered beneath the winter night.
The roads glowed softly like rivers of stars.
A middle-aged viscount swirled wine inside his glass.
His eyes occasionally drifted toward Lyra.
Then toward Kel.
Then back toward Lyra.
Finally he spoke.
"Do you believe it?"
The noble beside him raised an eyebrow.
"Believe what?"
"The story."
Silence.
The surrounding nobles immediately understood.
Another noble sighed.
"Not entirely."
A merchant standing nearby nodded.
"I don't either."
The viscount took a slow sip.
"Count Kel is many things."
A pause.
"But a poor storyteller isn't one of them."
Several people chuckled.
Because it was true.
The story had been remarkably convenient.
Perhaps too convenient.
The merchant scratched his chin.
"So you think he lied?"
The viscount immediately shook his head.
"No."
Another pause.
"I think he simplified."
The surrounding group nodded.
That sounded more likely.
A researcher joined the discussion.
"The question isn't whether the story is true."
A pause.
"The question is how much of it is true."
Silence followed.
Because everyone present understood something.
Kel Rosenfeld wasn't stupid.
If he introduced Lyra publicly.
If he granted her equal authority.
If he called her a guardian.
Then he had reasons.
Very good reasons.
Yet that didn't erase concerns.
One elderly merchant lowered his voice.
"Regardless."
A pause.
"Her origin remains the same."
The others looked toward him.
The merchant continued.
"She was born a serpent."
Another.
"A monster."
Another.
"A species known for devouring their own kind."
The atmosphere became heavier.
Because this wasn't prejudice.
It was fact.
Many serpent species consumed weaker siblings.
Consumed eggs.
Consumed rivals.
Consumed anything they could.
A young noblewoman frowned.
"Humans kill humans too."
The merchant immediately replied.
"Not as instinct."
The young woman became silent.
Because that was difficult to argue.
Nearby.
Another group held a similar discussion.
A Mage Tower scholar spoke quietly.
"Can she truly be trusted?"
The question lingered.
No one answered immediately.
Then an elderly mage sighed.
"Trust?"
A pause.
"I don't know."
Another.
"But I trust Kel's judgment."
Several people nodded.
Others didn't.
Because trust in Kel and trust in Lyra were different matters.
Across the ballroom.
Lyra noticed.
Not specific words.
But the atmosphere.
The glances.
The whispers.
The hesitation.
She wasn't surprised.
Not at all.
In fact...
She had expected it.
The serpent woman quietly stood near a table filled with refreshments.
A glass of fruit juice rested in her hand.
Her golden eyes calmly observed the room.
She wasn't offended.
Because if their positions were reversed...
She would have similar questions.
Far beneath Scarder Lake.
Seiren's voice appeared.
"Humans fear what they don't understand."
kel remained silent.
Then replied mentally.
"Can you blame them?"
The Guardian paused.
Several moments passed.
"No."
The answer was surprisingly honest.
Meanwhile.
The conversations continued.
Eventually.
One noble became bolder.
Too bold.
A Baron approached Lyra directly.
The man bowed politely.
"Lady Lyra."
The serpent nodded.
"Baron."
The noble hesitated.
Then sighed.
"Forgive my bluntness."
A pause.
"But may I ask a question?"
The surrounding guests immediately became interested.
Very interested.
Because everyone wanted answers.
The Baron finally asked.
"Can we truly trust you?"
Silence.
The music continued playing.
Yet somehow the question felt louder than everything else.
Nearby conversations gradually stopped.
More people began listening.
The Baron wasn't hostile.
Nor insulting.
His expression remained sincere.
He genuinely wanted to know.
The serpent woman remained quiet.
Then finally asked.
"Why do you ask?"
The Baron answered honestly.
"Because your species devours itself."
No hesitation.
No sugarcoating.
Straightforward.
"A serpent hatches."
A pause.
"It fights siblings."
Another.
"It kills siblings."
Another.
"It eats siblings."
The ballroom grew quieter.
The noble looked directly into her eyes.
"If that is your nature..."
Another.
"Then how can we know you won't betray us someday?"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Many guests lowered their glasses.
Others stopped eating.
Even the musicians seemed quieter.
Because it was a question everyone wanted answered.
Lyra slowly looked around.
The ballroom.
The guests.
The nobles.
The merchants.
The researchers.
All watching.
All waiting.
The ancient serpent closed her eyes briefly.
Then opened them.
And spoke.
"You're right."
The answer shocked everyone.
The Baron blinked.
Many guests exchanged looks.
Lyra continued.
"Serpents do eat their own kind."
A pause.
"They abandon eggs."
Another.
"They abandon offspring."
Another.
"They kill siblings."
Another.
"They fight endlessly."
The ballroom remained silent.
No one interrupted.
Because her voice carried neither shame nor pride.
Only truth.
The serpent woman slowly looked toward the enormous Mana Crystal standing at the center of the ballroom.
Its blue light reflected within her golden eyes.
"I hated it."
The words escaped softly.
Many people froze.
Because they weren't expecting that answer.
Lyra continued.
"I hated watching it."
A pause.
"I hated living it."
Another.
"I hated becoming part of it."
The ballroom remained silent.
The serpent woman's voice grew quieter.
"That is why I cultivated."
Another.
"That is why I pursued intelligence."
Another.
"That is why I pursued self-awareness."
Another.
"Because I didn't want to live like that."
The words echoed softly.
The ancient serpent looked toward the Baron.
Then directly answered his question.
"You ask whether I can be trusted."
A pause.
"I don't know."
The answer stunned everyone.
Even Kel looked slightly surprised.
Lyra continued calmly.
"I don't know what I will become in another hundred years."
Another.
"Or another thousand."
Another.
"I don't know whether I will always make the correct choices."
The guests listened carefully.
Then the serpent woman smiled faintly.
"But neither do humans."
Silence.
A noble frowned.
Lyra continued.
"How many humans betray each other?"
No one answered.
"How many nobles betray family?"
Still no answer.
"How many merchants cheat partners?"
Several merchants suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
"How many rulers sacrifice people for power?"
The silence deepened.
Because everyone knew examples.
Many examples.
The serpent woman continued.
"Trust is not determined by birth."
A pause.
"Trust is determined by choices."
Another.
"A human can choose betrayal."
Another.
"A monster can choose loyalty."
The words settled heavily.
Then she looked toward Kel.
The young Count stood across the ballroom.
Listening quietly.
Watching.
The serpent woman smiled slightly.
"Count Kel trusted me."
Another.
"I don't fully understand why."
A few guests laughed.
Even Kel smiled.
Lyra continued.
"But he did."
Another.
"So I will spend the rest of my life ensuring that trust was not misplaced."
The ballroom became silent.
Not uncomfortable silence.
Thoughtful silence.
Then unexpectedly—
Applause.
A single person.
Eleanor.
The head maid stood near one side of the ballroom.
Clapping calmly.
Others joined.
Then more.
Then everyone.
The applause spread throughout the hall.
The Baron himself bowed.
A genuine bow.
"My apologies."
Lyra shook her head.
"No."
A pause.
"It was a fair question."
The noble smiled.
Then moved away.
The atmosphere gradually relaxed.
Conversations resumed.
Laughter returned.
Yet something had changed.
The uncertainty had lessened.
Not vanished.
Trust wasn't built in a single night.
But a foundation had been laid.
Across the ballroom.
Kel quietly approached.
The young Count stopped beside her.
"That was a good answer."
Lyra looked at him.
"I wasn't trying to give a good answer."
Kel nodded.
"I know."
A pause.
"That's why it worked."
The serpent woman stared.
Then sighed.
"Humans are complicated."
Kel immediately replied.
"So are serpents."
For a moment.
The two simply looked at one another.
Then unexpectedly...
Both laughed.
A small laugh.
Yet genuine.
And somewhere far beneath Scarder Lake...
Seiren smiled quietly.
Because trust was a strange thing.
It wasn't created through speeches.
It wasn't created through power.
It wasn't created through titles.
It was created through moments like these.
One conversation.
One choice.
One honest answer at a time.