"If the two of them really have something going on, will they actually settle down here?"
George said, his eyes wide as saucers.
"If the child likes it, there's no reason not to."
Heather shrugged as she spoke.
"And who says we can't be the ones to whisk the princess away?"
"Hiss..."
Hearing his wife's lofty ambition, George drew a sharp breath.
"You really dare to think big."
"There's no harm in thinking about it, and our boy isn't bad either."
Seeing Heather's nonchalant expression, George couldn't argue.
After all, if the two really had something going on, wouldn't they become the in-laws of royalty?
Whether they stayed here or actually whisked the princess away didn't seem impossible.
In any case, returning to the Atlantic Federation was probably out of the question.
"We'll see, it's still early."
In the end, George could only say dryly.
"Alright."
Hearing this, Heather didn't press further and nodded before heading toward the kitchen.
...
Unaware that he was being set up, Fred continued to work hard even after seeing Lacus off.
A week passed like this.
During this time, friction between the Atlantic Federation, the Eurasian Federation, and PLANT continued to occur.
At this sensitive moment, even a minor incident could escalate into online arguments between the two sides.
The Atlantic Federation's official stance was becoming increasingly aggressive.
Moreover, there were occasional reports of Naturals dying within the Atlantic and Eurasian Federations.
Whether accidental or not, such incidents were now fueling conspiracy theories within PLANT's public discourse.
This also led to growing numbers of supporters for the radical factions on both sides.
In short, it seemed that only a single spark was needed to ignite a full-scale war between them.
As for this situation, Fred was currently powerless to change it.
This kind of public outrage could not be influenced by the reports of one or two media outlets.
If it were that simple, the Clyne Faction would have done so long ago and would not have allowed its influence to wane so passively.
As for why more people were advocating for war despite clearly being outmatched, he didn't know either.
Perhaps they had been holding back for so long that their minds weren't quite right anymore.
In the end, a war would have to be fought, and PLANT couldn't be allowed to win outright. Otherwise, given the current circumstances, the ambitions of the radical factions would likely grow even further.
It would be best if things ended as they did in the first part.
With the radical factions nearly wiped out, the remaining resistance would be insignificant.
The best approach is to control the scale of the war, allowing both sides to engage in mutual conflict. After eliminating the main hawks and Blue Cosmos, a fair and powerful third party would intervene, helping the warring factions cool down and restore a state of balance.
Lacus and the Clyne Faction might be able to achieve this, but he still needed an insurance policy.
For example, like his hometown in another world.
However, that was clearly impossible at the moment.
After all, he still hadn't figured out their positioning. The world was different now, and he wouldn't act recklessly without thoroughly testing the waters.
The more significant the matter, the more cautious one must be. Otherwise, a single misstep could lead to a pitfall with no way out.
"Let's focus on arranging Talia's affairs first."
"One step at a time. There's no use rushing."
With that thought, Fred had already tidied up the research materials on his desk and stood up from the all-too-familiar office chair, heading outside.
Today was also the day Lacus and he had planned to meet Talia in person.
His recent research had slowed down, leaving him with more free time beyond reading.
Otherwise, if he were still in the midst of Mobile Suit Research, he would never have had the time for such matters.
Without further delay, Fred soon met up with Lacus in February City.
As a medical-focused city, February City seemed to have even better scenery than the agricultural Junius City.
Although Coordinators rarely fell ill, it clearly didn't hinder their research in fields like genetics.
This place was like a miniature Mendel.
Sitting in the car and gazing at the lush scenery outside, Lacus, seated beside Fred, broke the silence and spoke.
"Your identity this time is as a consultant from the adoption center, here to understand her situation."
"I've already arranged the meeting opportunity. She's likely growing impatient waiting for contact from the gene matching agency."
Lacus briefly explained the background before the meeting.
"But she also works in February City, and with Durandal around, she'll probably notice something amiss soon."
As Lacus said, dragging things out indefinitely wasn't a solution.
She had professional expertise and would eventually realize that technical issues and the like were just excuses.
Continuing to delay like this truly wasn't a viable approach.
"Understood."
Fred responded, feeling a sense of reflection in his heart.
It seemed this world truly had all kinds of people—some who felt the Marriage Matching Law hindered their freedom to love, and others who willingly accepted it.
Of course, in Fred's view, Talia was in the minority.
After all, the desire for offspring wasn't particularly strong among the supposedly rational Coordinators.
Someone like Talia, who would run off with someone else just to have children, was indeed unusual.
As Fred pondered, he began formulating a plan.
Finding an adopted child wouldn't be difficult, but finding a Coordinator would be more challenging.
However, his mentor had relevant connections.
According to Lacus, he would likely help. As Fred planned, the car soon stopped in front of a shopping center.
"She's in the café on the second floor inside. Durandal might also be nearby, so good luck, brother."
Lacus said with a smile.
"Alright."
...
"Hello, I'm Dell, a consultant from the Zode Adoption Center. I'm very pleased to have the opportunity to meet with you despite your busy schedule."
Fred arrived at the cafe and humbly bowed to Talia, saying.
The woman before him looked just as he remembered—still with her crab-like hairstyle, though not as sharp as she would be in the future. Her soft face carried a hint of worry in her eyes.
"Hello, Mr. Del."
Talia, surprised by the visitor, looked at the young man's mask before nodding in acknowledgment.
"Please, have a seat."
"Alright."
Without engaging in small talk, Fred explained that he wore the mask due to a hereditary condition. Seeing Talia's expression of regret, he continued.
"I wonder if Miss Talia has considered adoption."
"Adoption..."
Hearing this, Talia felt a surge of inner conflict.
Although she had looked into the matter, she still longed for a child of her own blood.
"Yes, many young couples who married recently have been choosing this path."
Fred wasn't lying—after all, among those who married during the lull, while many never wanted children, there were still quite a few who wanted them but couldn't conceive.
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