Amelia walked alongside Ethan through the silent hallways, feeling his hand resting gently on her waist.

Although light, the touch sent little shivers up her spine, and she had to bite her lower lip to keep her emotions in check.

She remained silent, trying with all her might to forget what had happened the night before.

Still, from time to time, her eyes failed to obey her. She cast furtive glances at Ethan out of the corner of her eye, and with each attempt, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red.

When they reached his office, the two of them went inside.

The room was spacious, much larger and far more luxurious than her office in the Blue Tower, with dark wooden shelves lining the walls and a faint scent of old leather lingering in the air.

Ethan walked over to the sofa, picked up a bottle of Green Fairy wine that was waiting on a small side table, and placed it on the office’s central desk.

Without rushing, he poured two glasses—one for himself and one for Amelia.

The golden-haired beauty, meanwhile, walked over to one of the shelves and pulled out a heavy book, its leather cover worn by time.

"My gods... this thing is ancient," she murmured, flipping through the yellowed pages and reading one of the volume’s many passages.

The language was the same as that spoken today across the entire continent, just a bit archaic.

For her, deciphering it was no difficult task.

After reading for a few moments, Amelia returned the book to its place.

Her eyes turned to Ethan, and her lips curved into a sweet smile.

"Mom... do you know anything about black magic?" Ethan asked, and Amelia nodded.

To the Faith of the Nine, black magic was a terrible sin, considered heresy and often resulting in immediate execution.

Wizards, however, didn’t place much importance on that.

Black magic was the domain of the Goddess of Death, and as long as it didn’t involve sacrifices or unorthodox methods, it was unlikely to cause significant harm to its user.

There was even a Black Tower, dedicated exclusively to the study of the dark arts.

Its members were in constant conflict with the White Tower and the Church, but, with the support of the imperial family of one of the three great central empires, they operated as an official organization.

They were respected by the other eleven great magical towers and acquired all their resources legally.

There was even a contract signed with the empire, which guaranteed the tower all the corpses of prisoners sentenced to death.

It was also possible to sign up for a kind of personal insurance: upon death, the policyholder’s body would be handed over to the Black Tower, and the family would receive a generous pension in return.

"Why do you ask that?" Amelia asked, sitting down across from Ethan. Her eyes fell on the blood-red pendant he always wore around his neck.

She knew that object was connected to black magic, but she had never asked Ethan anything about it.

"Shortly after arriving in Goldenveil, I went with my wives to an abandoned mine. The idea was to clear out the orcs that had taken up residence there." Ethan paused briefly, his gaze growing distant.

"Inside that mine, we found a Death Knight who had been resting there for over four hundred years."

He brought his hand to his chest, grasped the pendant, and carefully removed it, handing it to Amelia.

She took it in her hands and spread her magical senses over the object, probing every fiber of the magic contained within.

"Who’s inside here?" she asked.

The artifact was of extremely high quality. The necromancer responsible for its creation was, without a doubt, quite skilled, though evidently lacking in raw power.

Perhaps a great talent without many resources at his disposal.

"Mireya Vorhn," Ethan replied, watching Amelia’s expression change.

"She was poisoned; her body was stolen and transformed into a Death Knight by the necromancer. Her memories are intact, but she’s still afraid to face her mother."

Amelia, for a moment, simply held the pendant, her eyes trembling. She knew better than anyone just how important Mireya was to Ysara.

After her daughter’s death, Ysara—who had ascended to the throne as reigning queen following her husband’s passing—abandoned everything.

She shut herself away in her chambers and closed her eyes to the world.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that Ysara loved her daughter as much as Amelia loved Ethan.

"Can you come out? I want to take a look at you."

A moment of hesitation followed Amelia’s words.

Then, a soft red glow spread across the pendant.

A thread of light emerged from the artifact, expanding into the air until, little by little, it began to take shape and assume the form of a human.

A relatively tall woman materialized in the middle of the room.

Her skin had a purplish hue, her eyes shone a vivid blood-red, and her snow-white hair fell softly over her delicate shoulders. Her curvaceous body was encased in sensual black armor that hugged every curve of her figure like a second skin.

"H-hello, Miss Amelia," Mireya said, watching as Amelia’s lips immediately curved into a warm smile.

As a sorceress, Amelia was immune to fallacies and religious fundamentalism. In her eyes, Mireya was nothing more than her best friend’s daughter.

Slowly, Amelia’s right hand rose and rested on Mireya’s face, feeling the coolness of her skin against her fingertips.

"You must have suffered so much... child. So many years of loneliness..." Without the slightest hesitation, Amelia wrapped Mireya in a tight embrace, pulling her close to her chest. "But don’t worry, Aunt Amelia will take care of everything."

Mireya froze for a moment and, unable to contain herself, let out a soft chuckle.

"You know I’m almost five hundred years older than you... right?" she asked, still unsure where to put her hands.

"It doesn’t matter! You’re my friend’s daughter, so I’m your aunt!" Amelia held Mireya’s shoulders and pulled her back a little, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Don’t you want to go meet your mother now? Come on, she’ll be the happiest woman in the world when she finds out you’re alive."

Amelia grabbed Mireya’s hand, but soon realized that the beautiful warrior princess wasn’t moving.

That was exactly why Ethan had called Amelia there alone.

Mireya was afraid her mother wouldn’t accept her. She wasn’t ready yet.