Translator: CinderTL
Paul lowered his voice as he continued his story. "There was no matter, no time. We existed only as souls, connected to each other, unable to separate or hide—nothing else existed there but our own forms. I think you understand what I'm saying."
He looked slightly embarrassed.
"A soul space?" Marianna murmured, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of her teacup. "This is a realm beyond the reach of ordinary magic."
"We spent... an immeasurably long time there. Time simply didn't exist," Paul said, his gaze steady. "From enemies to coexistence, from suspicion to dependence, Frostine transformed from an enemy into... a close family member."
Marianna asked, "Let me guess—the others too?"
"Ahem, yes," Paul replied, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"It wasn't until Catherine's subordinate, Ophina, located us through mental contact that we were able to return to the real world. To retrieve us, she entered that space herself. Then it took a very long time to reopen the exit... well, you understand..."
Marianna sat motionless on the sofa, as if frozen by an invisible spell.
The flickering firelight danced across her face, revealing an expression of disbelief. Her fingers still rested on the rim of her teacup, but she had long forgotten its existence.
"Soul space... six people..." she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible above the crackling fire. "You... inseparable, no time... became family?"
She raised her head, her gaze settling on Paul's face. Even this seasoned witch needed time to process the information her son had shared.
After a long silence, she slowly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
When she opened her eyes again, a hint of weary tenderness had crept into their depths.
"Fate," she said with a wry smile, "always unfolds in the most bizarre ways. If anyone else had told me these things, I would have dismissed them as madness."
"But I believe you. Since fate has bound you and those girls together in the same knot, it is both your fortune and your responsibility."
Her tone grew solemn. "Child, you may have a thousand choices, but there's one thing I must tell you: never betray any of them. They've walked with you through the long years of your soul's journey, and they are no longer ordinary wives. They are your light and your anchor."
Paul listened quietly, a long-dormant warmth stirring in his heart. He nodded solemnly. "I promise you, Mother. In this life and beyond, I will never betray a single one of them."
Marianna sighed softly, her hand gently stroking Paul's cheek, her touch as tender as if he were still the little boy from years ago.
Just as she was about to speak, Paul suddenly remembered something.
"Oh, by the way, Frostine has another name—Coleridge. She said she used Coleridge before meeting me, but Frostine was the name her late parents gave her. Since you're both members of the Arcane Order, do you know the name Coleridge?"
Marianna's body stiffened abruptly.
"You said... she uses the name 'Coleridge'?" Her voice dropped, tinged with disbelief.
"Yes," Paul replied, already knowing the answer from his mother's reaction.
Marianna slowly leaned back against the sofa, her mind flashing through fragmented memories: the taciturn female shadow within the Arcane Order, the frost-like guard beside Antonio, those emotionless gray-blue eyes...
"Coleridge..." she murmured, her voice tinged with shock. "So she's Frostine?"
She jerked her head up to stare at Paul, her eyes wide with disbelief. "The Ice Witch... became your wife?"
It was inconceivable that this ruthless assassin, whom even she had feared, could become a pivotal part of Paul's destiny.
The warmth that had softened Marianna's features vanished, replaced by a cold, vigilant alertness.
"Paul," her voice was low and tense, "you must answer me—are you certain Coleridge... or rather, Frostine, is truly with you? Is she not acting under orders? Is she not infiltrating again?"
She fixed her gaze on her son's eyes, as if trying to pierce his soul and confirm he hadn't been deceived.
"Infiltrating?" Paul asked, confused.
"You don't understand her," Marianna said, her fingertips tapping rapidly against the rim of her teacup. "During the Gabella Imperial Family's infighting years ago, the current Emperor Antonio vied for the throne with his elder brother Felix. Everyone believed Coleridge was merely a court lady serving Felix, but she was actually Antonio's secret informant. She remained hidden for years, secretly relaying information to Antonio and ultimately ending Felix's life with her own hands. Antonio's ascension to the throne was largely due to Coleridge's efforts. She was the sharpest Ice Blade behind that storm."
Marianna's voice trembled slightly. "She would betray her former master? Paul, she's no ordinary person. She's a witch, an assassin, a master of infiltration."
She paused abruptly, a deeper chill flashing in her eyes, as if she had stumbled upon some unsettling truth.
Ever since her conversation with Antonio before their departure, Marianna had suspected that the Emperor might already know about her relationship with Paul.
Could Coleridge have transmitted some information back to Gabella?
With this thought, she immediately asked, "Have you ever mentioned me to Coleridge?"
Paul shook his head. "I've never mentioned you in her presence."
Marianna felt a slight sense of relief.
Paul said calmly, "I understand your concerns, but Frostine is absolutely trustworthy. The bond between us transcends words; her transformation isn't an act, but the result of enduring life and death, sharing every breath, over countless years."
Marianna's brow remained furrowed as she fixed her gaze on Paul. "But she's a witch, my child. She knows how to manipulate hearts. Are you certain this isn't just another, more sophisticated disguise?"
"I'm certain!" Paul met his mother's eyes directly. "In the soul space, I felt her remorse, her struggles, and her yearning for freedom. She didn't approach me for beauty or power, but because she truly found a place where her soul could rest."
Marianna fell silent for a moment, then sighed softly. She raised her hand, a faint light flickering at her fingertips, and a wisp of frost condensed in the air before dissipating.
"A witch's beauty is never merely skin-deep," she said, her tone cool and cautionary. "It's a bewitchment of the soul, a hook in the eyes, a spell woven into every breath. Your father once prided himself on his clarity, yet from the moment he saw me, he could never look away."
She gazed intently at her son, warning him, "I believe you saw the true Frostine, but remember this—never let beauty cloud your judgment."
(End of the Chapter)
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