A few weeks had passes, in the corridors of the main house servants walked as usual. Between them, Crof walked steadily. As she passed the servants, they bowed their heads in greeting. But with an unfazed expression as ever, she walked past them. The sound of hushed whispers reached her ears, but they were ignored too. There were more pressing tasks at hand than to punish those who bickered behind her back. After she reached her destination, she knocked on the door. 

A high-pitched, cheerful sound—contrary to Crof's expression—came from behind the doors, "Come in~!"

She fixed her glasses with the index and middle fingers of her left hand. As though mirroring the cheerfulness of the person behind the door, a firm smile emerged on her face, and she entered the room.

Upon entering the room, she saw a lady sat on a couch—cuddling a giggling child in her hands. She wore a navy blue gown, accompanied with an crimson necklace and earpiece. Her black hair tied in a loose bun. Though, the minuscule amount of hair of the child in her hands didn't share the exact same colour. The newborn's black hair held a tint of purple. Despite the difference, the connection between the two seemed maternal.

"Oh, Crof it's you," the lady said, after glancing at her for a second before returning her attention back to her baby.

"Good morning, Lady Ceres."

"Goood morninggg," Lady Ceres replied with a childish voice, her gaze fixed on the baby.

"How's Young Mistress doing?"

Lady Ceres didn’t grace Crof with more attention than before when she replied, "Oh, Ceily? She's doing really well." She leaned closer to her daughter and with a infantile voice she asked, “Right?"

Outside the sun was up, and with no cloud in sight, its light spread everywhere. But the mother indulging her newborn made the room illuminate. Both of their giggles weren't confined to the room—they echoed through the corridors. The warmth even infected Crof, and the smile she forced changed into a brighter, genuine smile.

After losing herself to the mother and daughter for a few minutes, Crof said, "Lady..." Her voice was low, so as not to hinder the moment. She repeated, with a slightly louder voice, "Lady Ceres."

"Yes, Crof." 

"We received message from Antila."

Hearing Crof's words, Lady Ceres stopped indulging Ceily. She looked at her and asked, "Is the expedition team back?"

"Yes," Crof replied. "They should be here by tomorrow evening."

Excited, Ceres took a deep breath and rose from the couch. She exclaimed, "Let's go, tell Ivene!"

Crof chuckled for a moment before replying, "Yes."

They both got out of the room to go to the outer mansion. With Ceily in hands, Ceres occasionally swayed, as she walked, with her face brimming with enthusiasm. Crof walked behind—with her neutral expression back on. 

After a few minute journey to the outer mansion, they walked down the corridors to Lady Irene's room.

The servants along the way were displaying a warmth Crof wasn't used to. Her presence was usually creating sincerity tinted with fear. But today, as if overshadowed by the lady ahead, the servants' smiles were welcoming her along the way. Her professionalism didn't allow her to be bothered. Today she wasn't there to give orders; she was there to accompany her Lady. Though, she would never admit to anyone that the warm greetings that the lady received made her feel happy.

After reaching Lady Ivene's room, Crof was about to knock when Lady Ceres stopped her. Crof looked at the lady, who was extending her hands—giving Ceily to Crof. At Lady Ceres's action, Crof was left confused. But her eyes widened and her expression became more bizarre as she saw Lady Ceres burst open the door with more excitement than her previous visit.  

After the door opened, Ceres exclaimed, "Ivene!" But her call was accompanied with a clanking sound from inside. 

Greta, pouring water in a glass for Lady Ivene, was jolted from the sudden sound of the door. The glass from her hand fell down—spilling water on the carpet.

Though, even after all this commotion and excitement, Ivene's room was rather still. Her newborn didn't start crying, as if letting her mother rest. After the clatter sound of falling glass, the silence that echoed again was only broken by the coughing sound of Ivene.

Looking at her friend's state, Ceres's eyes dropped for a moment before lighting up again. Her face overflowed with confidence, believing the news she had brought would change the room. With that confidence, she marched in the room. 

Lady Ceres' actions stirred a turmoil of emotions in Greta. She rejoiced by the lady's visit. But unbeknown to the news that fuelled Ceres' confidence, she was also worried about how all this commotion would affect Lady Ivene.

With a low voice, almost a whisper, she said, "Lady Ceres," and bowed to her.

Ceres turned her head towards Greta and saw a stool placed behind her. She pointed at it and signed, "Bring it."

Placing the stool beside the bed, Ceres sat on it. "Ivene," she said, in as low and soft a voice as she could. 

Ivene, who had her eyes closed thus far, slowly opened it. Her chipped lips moved—trying to curve in a smile. "...Ce...res," she said.

Ceres smiled, and her eyes shimmered as she said, "The expedition team is back, Ivene."

Ceres' words changed Ivene's expression, like a gust of wind sweeping away dust from a barren land. A drop of tear slid through the corner of her eyes, and the smile, she was barely holding, became wider. 

With watery eyes, Ceres asked, "Why are you crying?"

Ceres words were unheard. Ivene turned her gaze towards Greta and with a husky voice, she said, "Greta...help me get up..."

Greta, standing a bit far from the bed, was taken aback. The concern she had was gone. Her eyes were widened at the sight of her Lady's smile after a long time. The whispered voice of the lady couldn't take her out of the moment, until she saw Lady Ceres, herself, helping Lady Ivene to get up. She rushed in help, but by then her help wasn't needed, Lady was already up. 

Crof, who couldn’t help with Ceily in her hands, looked at Greta with aggravated eyes. She hissed, "Do your job correctly." Though her voice was low enough that only Greta heard it. 

"S-sorry, Madam," Greta replied. Her words were only a reflexive response. Her eyes, glimmering with tears, were still fixed at her lady.

Ivene's eyes widened and she asked, "Really?"

Ceres took Ivene's hand and clasped it. She nodded with a smile and said, "Yes."

Ivene hurriedly looked at the closed door. With excitement bleeding from her face, she asked, "Where... where is he? Where's Anthor?"

Taking a moment to look at her excited friend, Ceres replied, "They'll be here by tomorrow evening."

Ivene's face saddened for a moment, hearing that she still had to wait more. But just knowing that she'd be able to meet her husband soon, the sadness didn't last. She looked at Ceres. The quaver, that her voice held a moment ago, had loosened its grasp. She still struggled to speak, but with a smile she said, "Thank you...thank you so much..."

With her arms spread wide for a hug, Ceres said, "It's nothing."

While hugging Ceres, Ivene saw Crof standing behind Ceres, holding a child. Even after the hug, her gaze was fixed at Crof. Ceres glanced back, and said, "She's my daughter...Ceily."

Ivene smiled. Hearing the sweet name of Ceres' daughter, a thought went through her mind. She gazed at her son's cradle and thought, Finally we'll also be able to give you a sweet name too...

Her thought was cut through from the sharp voice of Ceres, "It's a sweet name, right?"

"Yes...," Ivene replied, her gaze still fixed on the cradle.

"Her father was naming her 'Baycil', but I insisted. I wanted to match my name with my daughter."

Ivene chuckled briefly, looking at the grumpy expression that Ceres had as she told her about her daughter's name. 

Ivene's chuckle tensed Ceres' expression. "Are you making fun of me?" she asked, he voice stiff.

"No." Ivene stopped her laugh.

With Ivene's nervous face, Ceres knew her banter was a success and she burst out laughing. Her sudden laugh left Ivene confused, but soon she also joined her.

It had been a long time since the room last echoed with laughter. Both friends later spent a long time chatting. But in a different place and a different time, there were other people too, who were joyful.

To be precise, it was a day ago, and at Antila's estate. The faces there were filled with hope that the expedition had come back with some good news. But their joy didn’t last long. As they looked at the expedition team march to the patriarch's office to report, people's faces fell. Almost half of the team was missing. But despite the loss, some people clung to hope that those who've returned might have brought something good. It was those who couldn't spot their friends or family that could not compose themselves.

In the patriarch's office, eighteen people stood. When they left, they were proud mages and infusers, but now their journey wiped out all the pride off of their faces. After they all stood in front of the patriarch, he cleared his throat and asked, "So, what's the result?"

One of the mages replied, "Yes..."