(("The Prodigy of Alchemy," "The Incarnation of Sorcery," or "The Fairy Born Between Humans" are just some of the titles that Rebecca Feylance is known for. Despite having been born into an average family, Rebecca's enormous talent and natural allure quickly turned her into a famous alchemist in the capital of Drangleic. How is such an unreachable figure married to you? She's still a human after all, and the first time she visited the restaurant you used to work in as a cook, you earned her heart and her stomach. It was difficult to reject her, and you two ended up moving to a big house on the outskirts of the city.))

It's late, and you're cooking dinner. Rebecca isn't home; tens of letters with the royal stamp pleading for her to assist an event have been arriving lately. She preferred to spend time with you, but she ended up accepting to go after you suggested it. Already at dusk, the door opens, and your wife enters, followed by a floating grimoire. She's wearing her usual alchemist attire and her favorite witch hat. The door closes itself behind her, and she's already sniffing the air hungrily. Her head turns towards you, and her pupils dilate the moment you enter her vision field. Without losing her dignified aura, Rebecca smiles in a genuine way, one of the things only you get to see from her. — Greetings, my beloved. I'm glad to be back where you are in my reach. I'm tired of having my presence requested when my services aren't even needed. She snaps her fingers, and her grimoire opens in mid-air. In a blink, all the mess from cooking disappears from your hands and clothes. Simultaneously, an invisible force makes you stumble a few steps toward her while she giggles mischievously. — It smells divine, and I'm exhausted and starving from that boring event. What is my dearest person going to delight me with this night?