Elias nearly dropped the teacup when he walked into the living room and saw her.
"Rhea?" he blinked.
The girl sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by open spellbooks and crumpled notes, tilted her head.
"Yes?" she answered in that same voice—soft, lilting, mischievous.
But something was off.
Way off.
Her cloak sleeves were too short. Her boots, which she normally stomped around in, were halfway off her heels. And her face—round cheeks now slightly longer, her eyes less wide, more calculating. She looked older. Not dramatically so, but definitely not the same eight-year-old he had tucked into bed three days ago.
He squinted. "You look... taller."
She stood. Or rather, she unfolded herself in a way that she didn't before. There was a grace now to her movement, a faint echo of someone who once ruled a continent.
"Do I?" she asked innocently, brushing a few ashes off her shoulder. "I thought maybe I had just straightened my spine more confidently."
"Rhea," he said, walking over to her, "how old are you supposed to be?"
She blinked. "Chronologically or magically?"
He paused. "That is not a normal answer to that question."
"Ah," she said, fidgeting. "Then... nine? Ten? Possibly eleven. I don't really know. I was five last season, I think. Maybe six after the pumpkin incident. And now... ta-da!"
She raised her arms like a magician. Elias just stared.
"How did this happen?"
"I studied!" she said proudly. "I've been reading about growth stabilization, mana amplification, cellular acceleration..."
"I meant how did this happen in your body?"
"Oh." Rhea blinked. "I might've focused too hard on wanting to protect you better. The books said strong emotion can trigger... magical growth spurts."
"You aged yourself with feelings?"
"Well, technically it was soul-core resonance built on top of retained pre-reincarnation mana density compounded by emotional stress and... yes. Feelings."
Elias sat down, suddenly exhausted. "You're going to give me gray hair by chapter fifty."
She tilted her head. "I thought you already had some. Wait, let me check!"
She darted over and started examining his head with disturbingly precise fingers.
"Rhea—"
"There's one! No, two! Ooh, look at that wiry one."
He groaned and batted her hand away gently. "So let me get this straight. You're aging yourself with emotions, and now you've jumped ahead a couple of years in, what, a week?"
"Three days."
He stared.
She added sheepishly, "I thought it might help with spell control. Longer limbs, better magic channeling. Also, I wanted to reach the top shelf without a chair."
"That's not a good reason to accidentally time-skip your own body!"
"But I can finally fit the boots you got me!" she said, lifting a foot like a proud mannequin.
"And now you can't fit your cloak."
"Then sew me a new one!"
"Rhea..."
There was a pause. Her playful expression softened, and she sat beside him, swinging her now longer legs back and forth.
"I didn't mean to scare you," she said quietly.
"You didn't scare me."
"You looked scared."
"I was...surprised. That's different."
A beat passed.
"I missed when I could sit on your lap," she whispered.
He looked at her. And though she did look older—more mature in some subtle ways—the pout, the vulnerability in her words, still carried the weight of a child desperately holding onto safety.
"Nothing's changed," he said, resting a hand on her head. "You're still Rhea. You still steal cookies at midnight, you still set the kitchen on fire when you sneeze, and you still hide under the blankets during thunder."
Her cheeks colored. "That was one time!"
"Three times."
"Fine. Four."
They both chuckled.
Then Elias grew serious again. "But you really need to be careful. Accelerating growth like this—it's not just about height or magic. Your mind changes too. Your emotions, your perceptions, even your memories."
Rhea went quiet.
"I know," she said. "That's why I wanted to tell you now. Before I changed too much. Before I forgot that I liked honey bread. Or that you let me doodle on your spell scrolls."
He blinked.
"Wait, you're the reason my summoning runes keep turning into doodle frogs?!"
She shrugged with suspicious innocence.
Elias sighed and ruffled her hair. "Alright. We'll figure this out. One growth spurt at a time."
Rhea leaned against him. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Later that afternoon, they visited the guild market to get her a new cloak.
The tailor, a middle-aged dwarf named Ormick, blinked twice when he saw Rhea.
"Didn't you used to be... shorter?"
"She had a growth spurt," Elias explained with a straight face.
"Kid eats well, huh?"
"Very... passionately."
As Ormick took her measurements, Rhea fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable.
"Stop staring at me like I'm a sheep with two heads!" she muttered as a crowd of curious onlookers whispered in the background.
Elias stood behind her, offering a warm smile. "Ignore them. You're not a sheep. You're a goat."
"A goat?!"
"You climb everything, scream when startled, and keep trying to butt people you don't like."
"I do not—"
Ormick coughed loudly. "You two want me to embroider 'Menace' or 'Adorable' on the back?"
Rhea scowled. "Both."
"Menadorable," Elias whispered.
"I heard that."
Back home, Elias prepared dinner while Rhea tried to re-practice basic spells—adjusted for her slightly longer arms and stronger mana flow. She accidentally set the corner of the rug on fire and then got stuck inside a levitation loop that pinned her to the ceiling.
"Help," she mumbled from above, hanging upside down with her hair flopping toward the floor.
Elias didn't even look up. "Dinner's ready in ten minutes."
"I'm stuck."
"And we have a new rug arriving tomorrow."
"You're very calm about this."
"I'm used to it."
"I could die."
"You're floating."
"I could fall."
"You'll bounce."
"Heartless."
"Hungry."
"Fine, I'll unstuck myself!"
She did—with a small boom and a puff of soot. She landed in a heap beside the table, blackened but triumphant.
"Still counts," she muttered.
Elias handed her a bowl. "Eat first. Explode later."
That night, as she lay in bed under freshly washed sheets (he'd made her scrub the soot from her ears three times), she whispered softly into the darkness.
"Elias?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think I'll grow up... too fast?"
He was silent for a moment. Then:
"I think as long as you keep asking that question, you won't."
There was a pause. Then:
"Will you still like me if I'm tall? And scary? And wear adult clothes and forget how to play candle games?"
He chuckled. "I'll always like you. Tall, short, scary, sleepy. Even if you wear a crown again."
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she whispered, barely audible, "I'm afraid of that crown."
Elias sat beside her bed and took her hand.
"Then don't wear it alone."
A flicker of a smile touched her lips.
"Deal."
To be continued…