At length, he exhaled and leaned back in his chair.
"But, Seraphielle… you came of age last year, didn't you?"
"Father?" She lifted her head, surprise flashing across her face before it quickly gave way to hurt. "I did, but… did you forget I was gravely ill? Everyone thought I would die. I even believed it. In the face of imminent death, how could I think of inheritance? Father, I didn't expect you'd forget you almost lost me."
The Marquis frowned deeply, memories stirring. It was true. Her condition had been severe, and the ceremony had been postponed. She was now going to share her coming-of-age ceremony with Evalaine, who had just turned sixteen.
"I see… so you're telling the truth?"
"Father," Seraphielle said, her voice trembling faintly, "why would I lie about something like this? Do you think I'm like Evalaine, vain and obsessed with possessions? I only wish to fulfill Mother's last request. Please, help me."
Adrast sighed heavily.
