"That much time has passed?"

"Yes, it's been exactly three months since you left. Last month was when the festival happened, and in a week's time, the final academic year will begin," Annabelle explained, her voice measured and professional.

'The whole thing with Jason must have happened,' He thought.

"Did you feed Jason what I gave you?" Eliot asked absentmindedly, his attention elsewhere.

"...Yes," she responded after a brief hesitation.

"It better be true. I'll know for myself when I see him," Eliot said, his tone carrying a hint of warning.

"Y-you still plan on attending the academy?" Annabelle asked, her frown deepening.

"Yes, I do," he responded without much thought, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Find a way to get her in as well," he added, gesturing toward Sheila, who—like him—was dressed in a bathrobe. She was currently laying across his lap while he absently stroked her lustrous black hair.

"Pardon my asking this, Master, but who is she supposed to be?" Anna asked, her eyes darkening noticeably.

"Her? She's my…"

"...Wife," Sheila interjected with a self-satisfied grin, deliberately holding up her hand to show off the very same dimension ring Anna had given Eliot—now prominently displayed on her ring finger.

Annabelle's gaze lingered on the stupidly beautiful girl for a moment before she deliberately turned away, looking to Eliot for some kind of explanation. He simply shrugged, offering nothing.

"So you got married in just three months of being away?" she asked, her expression blank and unreadable.

"Life is full of surprises. Enough of that—what about what I asked for?" Eliot redirected, and Annabelle remained silent for a long moment before suddenly manifesting a document, which she threw at him without ceremony.

"It took a while to find that alibi, and it was the only one I could use without my father catching wind of it," she explained tersely.

"Adrian Estellia, branch family, assassination attempt on carriage, family wiped out, body of Adrian and sister missing, found after ten years," Eliot summarized aloud as he scanned the document, then nodded in approval. "Good enough. But mind you, your father is already aware of this—he just doesn't care enough to involve himself... yet," Eliot explained casually before tossing the document onto the nearest side table.

'Adrian, huh? It's not a coincidence,' Eliot thought to himself, recalling the name that had appeared the first time the system made its appearance. Perhaps this was what Nelia had meant when she said Adrian was his real name—that it would be the only unchanging name he'd be using in the near future.

"I don't think he does. I was very careful," Anna tried to defend herself, but Eliot waved a hand to silence her.

While this conversation continued, Sheila suddenly grew even more clingy, shifting into a more intimate position on his lap—seemingly unconcerned that only a thin fabric of cloth separated them both. She sent subtle, pointed glances toward Anna while her hands roamed across Eliot's chest and shoulders. He remained completely unresponsive to her advances.

"You'll realize he does soon enough. Anyway, start working on my admission into the academy, and hers as well—ASAP," Eliot ordered.

"...I will need her details," Anna said, her eyes unnaturally dark now, a vein visibly pulsing on her forehead.

"Her name is Sheila. There will be no need for a surname. As for the other details, you can handle it," Eliot said dismissively.

"So she will be admitted as a commoner?"

"Yes, but one with sponsorship from a noble house."

"...Understood," Anna said through gritted teeth, then turned her gaze directly toward Sheila.

She didn't say anything at first, just kept staring with an unsettling blankness.

"As a reward for your obedience and diligence, I won't bother you or your little friends for a good long while," Eliot promised, though Anna said nothing in response—just continued staring at Sheila quite unnervingly.

"ANNABELLE," Eliot spoke more firmly, and she finally looked at him.

"You can go," he dismissed her curtly.

She remained there for a while longer, as if wanting to say something, then suddenly turned on her heel and left without another word.

"...That was odd," Eliot remarked once she was gone, before finally grabbing Sheila's wandering hands. "What are you doing?" he asked pointedly.

"Nothing?" She grinned innocently, though her eyes told a different story.

"Nothing? You're obviously trying to make her jealous," he pointed out bluntly.

"...Is that a problem?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied his reaction.

Eliot simply shrugged. "Not really."

"So?" She raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"You're wasting your time," he said flatly.

"Why do you say so?" she asked, genuinely curious now.

"She hates me to the core—despises me, if you will. Not only that, she has a love interest, one she's very much obsessed with. So trying to make her jealous is just a waste of time and energy," Eliot explained matter-of-factly.

"...Is that what you think?" Sheila asked softly, her hands gently brushing along his face as she leaned forward, searching his expression.

"Huh? Am I wrong? Is there something I need to know?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by her reaction.

She shook her head slowly. "No, nothing," she said, then moved away from him, reaching for the table and taking a leisurely sip of wine before looking back at Eliot. "So what's next?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Well, for now nothing much until the exams begin," he said with a shrug.

She sighed heavily, completely exhausted by the prospect, and collapsed dramatically onto the bed. "Boring."

"...I have a question… a few, actually," Eliot said after a moment. She glanced at him, already anticipating where this was going.

"Let me guess—something to do with the slave seal and my past?" she prompted knowingly.

Eliot ignored her deflection and sat up properly, his expression serious. "What happened in the past? Why did the demons disappear completely?" he asked directly.

She was quiet for several beats before finally responding. "Look, as much as I want to tell you, there are just things you're not ready to hear right now."

Eliot frowned deeply. "Why?" he asked simply, his frustration barely contained.

"It's because there are certain forces that made sure that part of history disappeared completely. Saying these things—no matter how cryptically—can draw their attention to you. And you won't want that, not with the plan you're cooking up," she explained carefully, her tone unusually grave.

Eliot sat there in silence for a long while, processing her words, before finally getting up from the bed.

"Fine. In due time, then," he said, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely satisfied with that answer.

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