Camille, looking every bit the wise yet cold witch, paid no heed to Natasha's expression and laid it out mercilessly: "You're happy just seeing him, there's always endless things to talk about, and even when you can't find a topic, you feel content just sitting together in silence."
"When you talk with the Grand Duke, with Lady Hathaway, or with me, you bring him up after only a few sentences."
"You often imagine what he'd look like as a woman — and you think that's normal?"
"For him, you're willing to bend your devout stance slightly — not to stop, but to use the Night Watch's movements. For him, you'll face danger and temporarily set aside the responsibilities on your shoulders, draw Prince Dracula's attention away to protect him from the Demigod Lich's pursuit. And you call that just being good friends?"
Natasha looked as though she'd been struck by bolt after bolt of lightning, her expression severely twisted: "But — but our genders are different! Doesn't helping each other out just mean we're good friends?"
Camille's deep blue eyes fixed on Natasha, holding her gaze until she grew visibly uncomfortable before speaking: "True, the helping part does fit the spirit of a knight aiding a good friend. But what about all the other details and the feelings behind them? I won't belabor the point — you've had romantic experience before, and you ought to be able to tell the difference."
The contortion on Natasha's face gradually shifted toward something more uncertain and restless. She began pacing back and forth across the room unconsciously, and her steps grew faster and faster.
Suddenly, she clenched her teeth, darted past Camille, and made a beeline for the door.
"Wait!" Even the ever-composed Camille was startled, worried she might have pushed too hard — that Natasha couldn't handle it and was going to kill Lucian or harm herself.
Seeing that Natasha had at least stopped rationally, she softened her voice and consoled her: "Natasha, love knows no gender — that's something you've often used to encourage yourself. Have you forgotten? It just so happened that the person you liked before was a woman, so there's no reason to panic because the person you've fallen for this time happens to be a man."
As she offered these words of guidance, a thread of worry lingered — had she chosen the wrong moment to broach this, failing the Grand Duke's instructions?
Natasha slowly turned around, but her expression was nothing like what Camille had expected. It radiated a joy that seemed to bloom from deep within, her gaze soft, cheeks flushed with a rosy warmth, and between her brows an irrepressible surge of excitement and elation — so beautiful it defied description.
"You...?" Camille was too startled to even form a proper question, sensing that the Natasha before her had undergone some fundamental change compared to before.
Yes — ever since she and Lucian had escaped the Demigod Lich's pursuit, Natasha had often fallen into periods of confusion and aimless drifting. Now, most of that fog had dissipated. It was as though she'd found a new purpose, and no longer felt lost. Her eyes, once uncertain, now carried a trace of quiet resolve.
Natasha's smile was radiant: "Aunt Camille, don't worry about me. I'm going to fight for my own happiness!"
"Ah?" Camille felt this was the day she'd been surprised the most. She'd accepted it this quickly?
Natasha clenched her right fist, her voice fierce and unyielding: "I am a knight. I don't retreat when faced with obstacles — I find a way to overcome them."
Her voice rose, building in passion: "My knight's creed is to advance, advance, always advance — to smash through every obstacle head-on!"
"No matter what his feelings are, I will not back down. I will pursue him head-on, break through his defenses, and conquer him!"
The impassioned declaration rang through the room with the weight of iron striking stone.
Camille felt a sudden, unmistakable sense of — *of course it's Natasha*.
Natasha's lips curled upward, and her left hand quietly brushed the moonstone box containing the "Divinity of the God of Love and Beauty."
Why agonize over this, vacillate and deny herself? When there's a problem, the answer isn't to retreat — it's to find a way to solve it!
…………
"Evans's Arctic Ray" was a spell Lucian had constructed himself, so no analysis was required. After stabilizing the control difficulties brought on by his rapidly increasing spiritual power, Lucian successfully built it into his soul and officially became a seventh-circle mage.
He pushed open the window and gazed at the garden bathed in brilliant sunlight. A faint taste of happiness suddenly touched him — his strength was steadily climbing, his explorations were advancing deeper, the situation was relatively stable, and the girl he loved had gone from being separated by vast distances to being right by his side. Though many obstacles still lay ahead, each problem was being solved one by one. A life like this was a life of meaningful happiness.
His monocle emitted a faint warmth, and Lucian understood someone was trying to contact him. He activated it.
"Lucian, do you know where I am right now?" Natasha's voice came through after a soft hiss of static.
Lucian relaxed and smiled: "Surely not in Allentine?"
"Heh — I'm at the Holme Royal Magic Tower," Natasha replied with a hint of pride.
Lucian raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised: "The Holme Royal Tower? Aren't you afraid the Church will overreact?"
"It's fine. I used this as an excuse to come placate the liberal nobles — who told the Church they couldn't manage the Night Watch properly? They'll just have to accept it." Natasha answered half-jokingly, letting a touch of her queenly authority slip into her tone.
Joy welled up in Lucian's heart, and he blurted out: "Then — on the evening of June twenty-fifth, could you...?"
"On the evening of June twenty-fifth, are you free...?" Natasha said at exactly the same time.