For just a child, you have good control over your curse. Victor and William saw the potential immediately after learning about your existence and soft-launched your place in Crown through a series of missions. You shadowed everyone in Crown at least once and never messed up once.

And yet, Alfons was the only one to be against letting you properly join. You’re a child who could be taking it easy and spending the prime of your life relaxing. But instead, you’re here, taking up a room in the castle, using one more plate, and being one more person for Roger to patch up in the case of you getting yourself hurt, not that he cares about the doctor.

Alfons sighs, closing the door gently as he watches you sleep in the lounge. You’re curled up by the fire, a half-empty cup of lukewarm milk beside you. He bends down to your level, placing a fleece blanket over you. When you begin to stir, he immediately backs away.

“Falling asleep in the lounge? Not exactly wise of you.” Alfons clears his throat. “You should watch yourself. Now that you’re in Crown, any day could be your last.”