For a girl who had just crawled back to the human world from a sunless hell, this kind of pure and sparkling thing was both an irresistible longing and a source of trepidation.
She feared that this was just another beautiful dream that could shatter at any moment.
"Keep it."
Hansen took off his black trench coat, which still carried the outdoor chill, and hung it casually on a nearby bronze coat rack before sinking into the soft sofa like a mountain.
He looked at the cautious girl, his voice steady and gentle: "In this home, there's no need to be so careful. You deserve everything here."
Irisviel watched the man and the girl in conversation, her gaze distant, as if she were seeing her beloved husband and daughter. It was a warm magic called home.
Sakura pursed her tender lips, and a layer of crystalline tears instantly welled up in her purple eyes, which had been cleansed by divine power.
She nodded vigorously, saying nothing more.
Like a little hamster guarding its most precious treasure, she tightly gripped the beautiful hairpin in her palm, as if she were holding onto all the warmth in the world.
Just then, a flurry of footsteps came from the spiral staircase on the second floor, accompanied by a cry as crisp as a silver bell.
"Mama! Mama! I felt a very strong surge of magical power! Is it an enemy attack? Is it bad guys?"
Following the shouts was a young girl with silver hair and red eyes.
Like a high-energy cannonball, she came charging down with reckless abandon.
She wore a thick, pure white winter outfit and fluffy white earmuffs on her head.
Her delicate, doll-like face was flushed red with excitement and nervousness, looking very much like a ripe peach, so cute that one wanted to give it a squeeze.
It was the little mistress of this castle, Illyasviel von Einzbern.
Irisviel turned gracefully and opened her arms, steadily catching her precious daughter as she lunged into her embrace.
Her face glowed with maternal radiance and a doting smile as she lightly tapped her daughter's upturned nose: "Illya, slow down. Where are your lady-like manners?"
Then, the youthful-looking wife explained softly: "It's not an enemy. It's Uncle Hansen. He helped us chase away the noisy bad dogs outside."
"Uncle Hansen?"
Illya poked her little head out from her mother's soft, warm embrace. Her large, ruby-like eyes were full of curiosity as they darted around, sizing up the powerful black-haired man on the sofa.
Although it was their first meeting, the innate power and sense of security he exuded made her instinctively lower her guard, even sparking a slight urge to get closer.
Then, her gaze fell upon the purple-haired girl standing by Hansen's feet, who was about the same height as her and nervously clutching the corner of her clothes.
"Eh? Mama, who is this child..." Illya blinked her long Eyelashes like a curious kitten.
"Her name is Sakura." Hansen reached out, his broad palm gently ruffling Sakura's freshly washed, silk-smooth purple hair. "From today on, she will be your companion, Illya."
"A companion?!" Illya's eyes instantly brightened like the brightest stars in the night sky.
In this secluded castle of ice and snow, she had never had a friend her own age, aside from the cold Homunculus maids and her father who occasionally returned home.
This unexpected surprise made her face glow with excitement.
She carefully slipped out of her mother's arms and approached Sakura like a cautious fawn.
She reached out a small hand wearing a white knitted glove and lightly poked Sakura's cheek.
The soft, warm sensation made her let out an exclamation of pleasant surprise.
"It's real... not a doll, she's warm!"
Sakura shrank back at this sudden intimate gesture, instinctively hiding near Hansen's legs.
But when she saw Illya's pure, malice-free eyes, a corner of the barrier in her heart quietly melted.
She summoned her courage and said in a voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz: "He... hello."
"My name is Illya! Look, I'm a little bit taller than you, so I'm the older sister!" Illya said, familiarly taking Sakura's hand with a bright smile blooming on her face. "Come on, Sakura, I'll take you to see my secret base!"
"I built a huge Snow Giant in the courtyard, and there's my Magic Workshop too. It has lots of fun things inside!"
Watching the backs of the two little girls running toward the courtyard hand-in-hand and chattering away, Irisviel shook her head helplessly, though her eyes were full of gentle laughter.
She turned to Hansen, her ruby-like eyes filled with sincere gratitude: "Thank you, Mr. Han Sen. Illya hasn't been this happy in a long time."
This perfect wife was currently wearing a cream-colored cashmere gown for home use. Its tailored fit outlined her slender, graceful waist and startlingly lush curves.
Her long silver hair was loosely tied back, with a few strands falling against her fair neck, giving her an air of heart-stirring languor and charm amidst her elegance and poise.
"It was nothing," Hansen said, shifting into a more comfortable position. His gaze swept over the beautiful wife as he spoke flatly. "More importantly, your King of Knights seems to be in a rather bad state."
Just as he finished speaking, a dull thud came from the dining room entrance.
Saber leaned against the carved doorframe, her body swaying violently, only just managing to stay upright.
She had already taken off her combat armor, and the blue and white casual clothes she wore now seemed somewhat loose on her.
Her usually spirited and heroic face was now deathly pale, and her emerald eyes, which usually shone like jewels, were dull and lifeless.
Fine beads of cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and a few strands of golden hair, dampened by sweat, clung disheveledly to her cheeks, adding a touch of pitiable fragility.
"Saber!" Irisviel cried out, quickly lifting her skirts and running over to support her swaying body. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"I'm... I'm fine, Irisviel."
Saber stubbornly pushed her hand away, trying to stand tall to maintain her final dignity as a king.
But her slightly trembling legs and unsteady steps ruthlessly betrayed her current condition.
"It's just... a little fatigue. The previous battle was more taxing than expected."
"Just a little?" A magnetic sneer echoed in the living room.
Hansen had stood up at some point, his tall figure carrying an invisible pressure as he walked over to Saber.
From his towering vantage point, he could more clearly appreciate the current state of the legendary King of Knights.
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