Chapter 4:

Inside Roswaal's Mansion

A long dinner table stretched through the ornate dining room, lined with glistening cutlery and carefully prepared desserts. Tiamat sat at one end, directly across from Roswaal L. Mathers, who wore his usual flamboyant makeup like a painted mask. Behind him stood Ram, expression unreadable.

Rem, after politely serving a slice of cake to Tiamat, quietly returned to her sister's side.

Tiamat looked down at the cake for a long moment. Then, her gaze slowly rose, landing on Roswaal.

Why is his face so heavily painted? she wondered. It's like looking at a clown... No. He is a clown.

Roswaal smiled politely, voice smooth. "Madam Tiamat, is it? I've heard you've become... Emilia's mother?"

Tiamat tilted her head slightly. Then, without blinking, her star-shaped pupils narrowed, piercing directly into Roswaal's heterochromatic eyes.

In that instant, Roswaal felt a chill down his spine. It was like she already knew him. Every intention. Every scheme.

"A child like her—so innocent, so kind... I like her a lot," Tiamat said softly. "So now, she's my child."

Roswaal gave a slow, calculated nod. "I see. That's... good to hear."Inside, however, he reevaluated everything. A being that even the great spirit feared? If Tiamat chose to oppose him, she could ruin everything. For now, though, she didn't seem to be a threat.

Best to let her indulge her 'motherly' whims.

He picked up his fork and began eating his cake.

Tiamat looked back down at her plate, lifted her spoon, and took a bite.

Sweet. Her expression lit up with delight.

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A few moments later…

Tiamat walked through the mansion's long hallway, footsteps soft against the floor. Rem trailed behind her, clearly uneasy.

They passed door after door each one identical, each one a possible path. Tiamat's senses pulsed outward, searching.

She was looking for that door. The one that moved. The one that hid a certain tiny librarian.

Rem finally spoke up, wary but curious. "Tiamat-sama… may I ask where you're going?"

Tiamat stopped.

She turned slowly, her gaze meeting Rem's directly. Then, in a voice like gentle wind, she said one word

"Library."

Rem's breath hitched slightly.

The 'library' hidden deep in the mansion was a place only Roswaal could accessed. No one should know how to find it… let alone know about it.

But this person She somehow knew about it.

Rem's eyes narrowed, dangerous and sharp, as she stared at the woman walking ahead of her.

Tiamat.

Even as that silent hostility built behind her, Tiamat paid it no mind. What could this child possibly do to me? she thought calmly. She is not Subaru.

A faint breeze stirred the air around Tiamat as she walked, her pale hair flowing softly behind her. The killing intent coming from the blue-haired oni to her, it was no more threatening than the scratch of a stray kitten.

If she attacks her... She will just knock her out gently. And if that doesn't work? She will keep knocking her out until she stays down, Tiamat mused. She looked at Rem with a flicker of something in her eyes.

Pity, perhaps.

Twin orphans, forced to grow up so quickly... Tiamat's maternal instincts stirred. They should be loved... maybe I'll adopt both her and her sister, too.

But one thing at a time.

Focus on adopting the 'Kashira' spirit first.

As they continued down the long hallway, lined with identical doors, Tiamat's gaze finally settled on one. This door that gave other vibe from other door.

She reached her hand out toward the handle.

But before she could open it—

"Mom! Good evening!" Emilia's cheerful voice rang out behind her.

Tiamat paused and lowered her hand. She turned, eyes softening as she smiled at the silver-haired girl.

"Good evening, my child."

Her gaze drifted upward to the top of Emilia's head where a familiar small cat spirit lay curled up, eyes wary.

Puck.

He coughed awkwardly under her gaze. "W-Well, hello there…"

Tiamat gave a slow nod in return, contemplating him. A spirit, devoted to his bond. Fiercely protective… but also cute. She briefly considered adopting him too. Perhaps she'd bring that up later.

"Lia, I'm hungry. Let's go eat," Puck said quickly, shifting uncomfortably atop Emilia's head. Clearly, he wanted to put some distance between himself and Tiamat.

"I know, I know," Emilia replied with a light laugh. Then she looked to Tiamat with warm eyes. "Mom, would you like to join us?"

Tiamat opened her mouth to politely decline… but stopped.

Her child was inviting her. Reaching out to her. Asking for her company.

As a mother how could she say no?

Tiamat stepped forward and wrapped Emilia in a gentle embrace. "Ah... your kindness touches me, my dear child. Come here, let mother hold you…"

She stroked Emilia's silvery hair with maternal affection.

Puck, now trapped between their hug, twitched. Why does this feel like emotional betrayal? His little tail flicked in protest as if he'd just been replaced.

Rem watched the scene from the side.

She still didn't trust this woman. She didn't understand why Roswaal had ordered her to treat Tiamat with respect.

She doesn't even look much older than us, Rem thought. Maybe younger.

But orders were orders. And as long as Tiamat remained peaceful, she would follow them.

Still… if this stranger ever did anything suspicious anything that threatened her master, her sister, or this household, Rem wouldn't hesitate.

Tiamat slowly released Emilia from her embrace, her gentle smile unwavering. Though the urge to seek out the little library spirit was still there, she decided to postpone it. After all, she wasn't going anywhere. There was plenty of time to bring up the topic with Beatrice later.

For now, she chose to follow Emilia.

Emilia turned to Rem, her tone soft but resolute. "Rem, can you take care of Subaru?"

Rem bowed respectfully. "Understood, Emilia-sama." Without hesitation, she made her way toward Subaru's guest room.

Tiamat watched Rem disappear down the corridor before turning her gaze back to Emilia.

"That boy, Subaru, will wake up soon," Tiamat remarked, her voice calm and confident.

Emilia tilted her head in surprise. "How do you know?"

Tiamat's lips curved into a subtle smile. "Instinct."

Emilia blinked, somewhat puzzled but not entirely doubting. Tiamat's words always carried a strange sense of certainty.

Puck, meanwhile, gave a lazy roll of his eyes from his perch on Emilia's head. He didn't bother to question Tiamat's claim.

"Yawn... Lia, wake me up when we arrive," Puck murmured, stretching his tiny limbs before curling up comfortably. With a faint shimmer, he retreated into the crystal pendant resting against Emilia's neck.

Emilia let out a small laugh, lightly touching the crystal. "Alright, Puck."

As they walked through the mansion's corridors, Tiamat remained quiet, her eyes briefly glancing around.

Beside her, Emilia hummed softly to herself, her steps lighter now that she knew Subaru was going to wakeup soon.

Tiamat couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction her child was happy.

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A few moments later, Tiamat found herself standing in front of one of the many identical doors in the mansion's winding hallways. Something about this one felt... right. Her instincts rarely failed her, and so she grasped the handle and slowly pushed it open.

The door creaked, revealing exactly what she had been seeking a library, brimming with books stacked on every available surface. Shelves towered toward the ceiling, and the scent of old parchment lingered in the air.

Tiamat’s gaze fell upon the small figure at the center of it all—a petite girl engrossed in a tome, seemingly unaware of the world beyond the pages. A faint light filtered through the room, casting a glow on pale cream blonde hair and the distinctive butterfly-shaped pupils in her eyes.

The girl must have felt Tiamat’s unwavering stare, as she slowly turned her head, her gaze meeting Tiamat’s without a hint of fear—only annoyance.

“...Who are you, I suppose?” the girl demanded, her tone brusque and guarded.

Tiamat didn’t answer immediately, taking a moment to absorb the sight. This was the child she had sought—the one with an air of solitude wrapped around her like a shroud.

With a serene expression, Tiamat spoke. “Would you like to be my daughter?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, and with a wave of her hand, a gust of magical energy surged toward Tiamat. The air shimmered as the spell took hold, intent on ejecting the intruder from the room.

However, Tiamat remained firmly in place, unaffected.

Beatrice blinked, visibly perplexed. She tried again—another spell, then another, each designed to push the stranger out without causing harm. Yet, none worked. The woman simply stood there, her pink star-shaped pupils unwavering.

“What are you?! Get out of my library, I suppose!” Beatrice snapped, waving her hand more forcefully. Her magic, usually unyielding, seemed utterly useless.

Tiamat remained composed, her calm demeanor unchanged. “Would you like to be my daughter?” she repeated, almost as if it were the most natural question in the world.

The little spirit’s panic grew, her frustration bubbling over. “Why... Why aren’t you leaving? I suppose!” Beatrice’s small fists clenched at her sides, irritation mixing with confusion.

Tiamat’s lips curved into a soft smile as she observed the girl’s futile tantrum. “Naughty children need to be disciplined,” she said gently, taking a single step forward.

Beatrice’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Stay back! Kahisra!” she shouted, trying to conjure another spell, but her focus faltered. Why couldn’t she force this stranger out? Why did her presence feel so... overwhelming?

Before Beatrice could summon another word, Tiamat was suddenly right in front of her. The girl barely had time to react before Tiamat’s arms encircled her in a gentle, unyielding embrace.

Beatrice stiffened, bewildered and strangely... warm. The woman’s arms were soft, and her hold was neither tight nor suffocating. It was just comforting.

“Such a lonely child,” Tiamat murmured, her voice softer than a whisper. “You’ve been alone here for so long... It must have been painful.”

Beatrice wanted to protest, to push her away, to demand that this intruder release her. Yet, despite herself, she couldn’t move. The warmth in the embrace was unfamiliar—a stark contrast to the cold solitude of her library.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes began to sting. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the strange, unexplainable emotions welling up inside her.

Tiamat stroked the girl’s hair, her touch feather-light. “There, there... It’s alright now. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Beatrice’s hands clenched the fabric of Tiamat’s dress, her pride warring with the fragile part of her heart that desperately wanted to believe those words.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Beatrice didn’t push someone away....

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In Roswaal’s ornate office, Tiamat sat comfortably in a velvet armchair, her presence both serene and imposing. Directly opposite her, Roswaal lounged behind his polished mahogany desk, his characteristic smile plastered on his face. Behind him stood Ram, silently observing, her expression unreadable.

But the most unexpected sight of all was Beatrice. The little spirit, notorious for her prickly demeanor and desire to be left alone, now sat quietly on Tiamat’s lap. She leaned against tiamat chest, clutching a book while Tiamat’s slender fingers absentmindedly combed through her golden curls.

Roswaal couldn’t help but arch a painted eyebrow. “Well, well... What a peculiar sight” he mused aloud.

Beatrice shot him a glare, as if daring him to comment further. Tiamat, however, simply continued to stroke Beatrice’s hair, her gaze never leaving Roswaal.

After a brief pause, Roswaal cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself. “What can I do for you, Madam Tiamat?” he asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

Tiamat tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanging. “I would like to adopt this child,” she stated plainly, glancing down at Beatrice, whose small hands were clutching the hem of Tiamat’s dress.

Roswaal’s eyes widened just a fraction before his calm smile returned. “Adopt... Beatrice?” He looked at the little spirit, whose usual sharpness seemed dulled by the comforting presence of her new guardian.

“Yes,” Tiamat continued, her voice gentle but firm. “Since you are the master of this mansion, I am requesting your permission.”

Her words hung in the air, and Roswaal tapped his chin thoughtfully. Truthfully, he knew that permission was a mere formality; the woman before him would likely take Beatrice regardless. Even so, he found the whole situation amusing.

Beatrice’s butterfly-like pupils narrowed, and she gave Roswaal a pointed look—one that clearly conveyed, You had better say yes, kashira.

“Ahem,” Roswaal coughed lightly to cover his smirk. “There’s no need for permission, Madam Tiamat. You may do as you please. If Beatrice has found someone willing to... care for her, I certainly won’t object.”

Tiamat inclined her head slightly. “I see.” She resumed playing with Beatrice’s hair, brushing the golden strands back into place.

Roswaal leaned back, his smile never faltering. “Might I ask what brought this... motherly instinct upon you, Madam Tiamat?”

Tiamat paused, considering the question. “She is a lonely child. Such loneliness breeds sadness and sadness can turn into something darker. I won’t allow that to happen to one of my daughters.”

A flicker of surprise flashed across Roswaal’s face. He hadn’t expected such a direct answer. “Your daughters, you say?”

Tiamat nodded, her tone unwavering. “Emilia is already my daughter. I plan to extend that same protection to them too”

Roswaal glanced at Ram, whose usual stoicism remained intact, though her gaze lingered on Tiamat for moment. “How... curious,” Roswaal mused.

Tiamat offered no response, content to let the statement hang in the air. Beatrice had grown noticeably more relaxed, now nestled against Tiamat’s chest, her breathing slow and even.

Tiamat glanced down at Beatrice, her gentle touch never ceasing. “A mother’s love knows no bounds. It doesn’t matter whether a child is born from me or not... I will cherish them just the same.”

Roswaal couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “How endearing. You truly are a most fascinating guest, Madam Tiamat.”

Tiamat said nothing, simply nodding in acknowledgment.

(A/n: my little heart bleeding when people assume most of my fic is not mine (╥﹏╥) i can accept if my fic is bad but waaaaa but when it assume as translate fic and seeing the word said that not my work it to much for my fragile heart to handle)