Midnight Chaos
“Ugh, Lord Abel. Don’t tell me those two are here because…”
“It’s a misunderstanding, Miss Seria.”
“It’s not.”
“Not at all.”
Irshu and Tarshu, perched on the edge of the bed, denied it in tiny voices. But when Abel shot them a quick glare, they shrank back with a meek hing and clamped their mouths shut.
“What brings you here so suddenly?”
“Huh? Oh, right. Um… well, you see…”
Was it the shock of the scene? Whatever excuse she’d come up with to visit had completely slipped her mind. Seria racked her brain desperately, only to end up asking the most foolish question herself.
“Ahaha… so, um, why did I come here…?”
You’re the one who shouldn’t be asking that.
Abel stared at Seria for a moment before providing the answer.
“Ah, yes. I remember now. You said you had a question about a book on abilities.”
“Ah! Yes! That’s it! Exactly that!”
“I’m not sure how much help I can be since my ability is so different from yours, Miss Seria. But let’s think it through together anyway. Maybe if we put our heads together, we’ll figure something out.”
Together.Together.
Those words brought an unwitting smile to Seria’s face. They were the sweetest she’d heard lately. Her heart pounded fiercely, if only for a moment. If not for the two girls sitting behind him, she might have burst into a full grin.
“We can help too.”
“We’ll help with anything.”
Irshu and Tarshu slyly poked their heads over Abel’s shoulders from behind. Abel was sitting while the two duchesses stood, but the height difference was so stark that they looked almost like dangling ornaments. Despite the situation, Seria couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“Phew.”
Laughing cleared her head a bit. She’d been on the verge of losing it amid the confusion, but now she felt a little better. Right. Instead of agonizing alone, it was better to just ask outright.
“Lord Abel, why are the duchesses in your room?”
“Well… they said they couldn’t sleep, so…”
“We wanted to sleep next to Abel.”
“We wanted to share Abel’s bed.”
“…”
She shouldn’t have asked. Seria stared blankly at the two duchesses. Sleep next to him? Share his bed? Heavens. How could they say that without a hint of embarrassment?!
At the same time, a tiny pang of envy stirred. To speak so boldly like that. For her, acting on such impulses was incredibly difficult—not just because of shyness.
There were far more serious obstacles. Liking someone didn’t guarantee a future together. Having feelings didn’t make the world bend. Especially among nobles, and especially when families were worlds apart, it only grew harder.
In the Ascal Kingdom, the Rothschild family wielded immense influence. They were a baronial house, yes, but their greatest strength lay in producing ability users generation after generation. This was rare even compared to other kingdoms—or the Empire itself. Most families had sporadic awakenings, if any.
By contrast, her own Frijian family was merely a barony. Seria took pride in it, of course, but objectively, it paled beside the Rothschilds. In noble society, connections formed between equals—or at least similars. When the gap was this wide, as it was now, both sides usually backed off with a polite “this won’t do.”
She knew it well. The burdens it would impose—and receive—were obvious. It was far easier to pair with someone where no such glances needed exchanging. A barony and a baronial house? Vassal and lord—that was the natural order, nothing more.
The two duchesses, on the other hand—Irshu and Tarshu—stood equal to Abel, if not above. The Winter Duchy was ruled by a grand duke, and his daughters held positions akin to princesses or even imperial ones. If they truly cared for Abel, he’d be wise to choose them. For himself, and for his family.
It was the most logical, rational conclusion. That’s why Seria hesitated. Why she couldn’t casually close the distance. It was a battle she’d clearly lose. And if rejected, their current good relationship might shatter completely.
Who could bear that and act recklessly?
…No. I still have to try. Abel said I could do it. That no one starts as a star. Even a firefly can become one someday.
And Seria would make it happen. Ironically, even this resolve stemmed from Abel’s influence. Her position was unimpressive when viewed coldly. Sorry as she felt toward her parents, it was the truth. An ordinary person might despair here.
But Seria’s response was, That’s exactly why.
“Lord Abel, you were curious about my awakening last time, right?”
“Pardon? Ah, yes. It was. You’re a highly unusual case, Miss Seria. The professors said you might be the only one whose ability transformed so completely upon awakening.”
Abel was more passionate about honing and strengthening abilities than anyone. That’s why he’d come to the academy, training day and night without respite. Naturally, he’d take interest in awakenings.
So Seria could use herself as a weapon to gain the upper hand.
“What exact conditions trigger it? From what I remember, intense desperation played the biggest role for me.”
“Hmm. That can’t be all. Everyone there was desperate. Whether it’s something unique to you, or another factor…”
As expected. The talk of abilities instantly drew Abel’s full attention to Seria. Irshu and Tarshu immediately puffed their cheeks in sulky frustration, rubbing their faces against his shoulders as if demanding some attention too.
Like cats. Snow leopards tamed by humans. Their cuteness might melt most men.
But her opponent was Abel—a man who’d run himself ragged since childhood chasing his own ability awakening. With a super-rare awakening case right beside him, he’d gladly tune out everything else for a deep discussion.
“What if you could awaken, Lord Abel?”
“Hard to say. If possible, I’d prefer sensory enhancement over physical.”
“Aren’t you already hypersensitive? I saw you shatter every light beam from Senior Lumine in training last time.”
“That’s not enough. The vision I have in mind hasn’t even taken shape yet.”
“I can’t even imagine what you’re aiming for…”
It started with ability talk. Then, bit by bit, it shifted. To academy matters, or family. Seria’s conversational skill kept Abel engaged without a hint of awkwardness.
“Come to think of it, I wonder how those four are doing. They kept inviting me to their families last time—Lord Abel has no idea how awkward that made me.”
“Honestly, I’d rather not know. Whoever you visit, the other three will sulk. And ranking them? That’d just breed more complaints.”
Impressive on the outside, but inside, they were just men in their twenties. Men who might never fully mature—and right now, at their most energetic, trouble-prone age. Emotionally volatile. Grudges lingered long. Especially for men nursing first loves.
Hence, the romance fantasy genre.
“If they try that again, just say you’ll start with first place next time, then reverse order after. Easiest solution, Miss Seria.”
Abel thought it solid advice, brain-racked as it was. But Seria tilted her head, puzzled.
“What are you talking about? Even if they invite me again, I’ll refuse just the same.”
“Pardon? But I thought you planned to visit their families next time?”
“Not at all.”
“This time, you stopped by mine briefly before heading home since it’s not even a full month yet. But over break, you’d accept their formal invitations…”
“I’m telling you, I have zero intention of doing that.”
Something was off. Right now, sure—but wasn’t this a set event? The male leads’ relentless pursuit eventually wearing down the heroine. Fair competition kicking off, regardless of starting point. Invitations to each family, sparking incidents and mishaps. Some suitors drop out, others drift away, the rest grow closer. Classic romance fantasy playbook.
Seria should follow it. Not now, but eventually. The four were behaving for now, but over break, they’d challenge again. Who’d laugh, who’d cry—it’d be decided then. Abel had no doubt.
“…Even over break, I want to stay with you, Lord Abel.”
That’s why her words left him speechless. Meanwhile, the duchesses behind him chimed in with a drawn-out “Heeeeeh.” Not a secret.
“M-Miss Seria.”
“Can’t you change how you call me now? Not Miss Seria. Just Seria. Abel.”
“…”
“S-Sorry. I guess sticking to Lord Abel is right after all?”
Abel sorted his jumbled thoughts. He gazed at Seria briefly before asking again.
“Miss Seria.”
“Seria.”
“…Seria. So, you don’t have feelings for any of those four…?”
“Nope.”
Hmm. Got it. So what now? Was he really joining the romance group too? Though heroines sometimes had early favorites who died off quick. Was that it? Him dying? Unfair—he had too much left to do.
With Seria in front and Irshu and Tarshu on each shoulder, Abel had no choice but to ponder the situation seriously.