"Furina..."
Neuvillette's voice was heavy. He hadn't expected Furina to appear at this moment.
"You... what were you just saying? Poisson... Fidelle... What exactly happened?!"
Tears welled up in Furina's eyes, trembling on the verge of spilling, yet never falling.
Neuvillette averted his gaze and sighed again. "Lady Furina, according to Miss Navia's report, Fidelle... was submerged in Primordial Sea water during the disaster in Poisson..."
Neuvillette's words struck Furina like an ice-cold dagger, piercing her fragile hope.
The world around her instantly collapsed, twisted, and fractured into chaos.
The stacks of files on Neuvillette's desk, the unfurling leaves of the potted plant in the corner, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window... everything spun wildly, churning into a nauseating gray-white vortex.
"...She?"
Furina's voice was terrifyingly dry, like sandpaper rasping against rusted metal, each word trembling with disbelief.
Her heterochromatic eyes, usually brimming with the radiant starlight of Fontaine's sea, now appeared hollow.
A massive wave of confusion and helplessness surged within them, threatening to consume her entirely.
Her gaze swept past Navia's grief-stricken face, past Lumine and Paimon's panicked eyes, finally settling on Neuvillette's solemn face, as heavy as the deep sea, as if silently pleading for an impossible answer.
Fidelle is so strong. When the Primordial Sea water rose, she would have run. She definitely would have run!
She promised she'd stay with me. She wouldn't break her promise!
"Lady Furina..."
Neuvillette's deep voice rumbled, carrying an unprecedented attempt at reassurance, like a gentle ripple trying to calm a storm.
But his words shattered her last thread of self-deception.
"No, that's impossible! She told me before she left—she promised!" Furina's voice suddenly soared. "...She said she'd be back in three days at most... and she even made me a little cake... she said... she said she'd come back after I finished the cake..."
Her lips trembled violently, the rest of her words choked off by a massive sob that surged up, leaving her mouth opening and closing uselessly.
The one who always stood behind her in the shadows, never leaving her side. The one who could precisely sense her slightest mood and silently offer a cup of perfectly warmed floral tea. The one who stubbornly refined recipes again and again, just to coax her into taking one more bite of vegetables...
The person who had been like a shadow, a shield, an anchor—steadfastly present in her life... was gone?
Dissolved?!
"Fidelle..."
Furina murmured the name, as if it were the only piece of driftwood a drowning person could cling to.
An overwhelming sense of weakness seized her, and the luxurious carpet beneath her feet seemed to instantly transform into bottomless quicksand.
She stumbled backward, taking an involuntary step. Her delicate water-blue heels dragged across the carpet with a grating scrape.
The crown atop her head—a symbol of the Hydro Archon's supreme authority, crafted from the purest sea sapphires and mithril—swayed violently for the first time in her chaotic retreat, tilting precariously.
A few strands of silvery-white hair, freed from their elaborate restraints, fell haphazardly, brushing against her cheeks, which had drained of all color.
Waaaaah—
For the first time in five hundred years, Furina revealed her vulnerability before Neuvillette, Lumine, Paimon, Navia, and the others.
"Furina!" Paimon's tearful, panicked cry pierced the air.
Lumine instinctively reached out to steady Furina's tottering form.
But Furina moved faster.
She abruptly raised both hands—not to right her crown, but to press them firmly against her face.
The spaces between her fingers could no longer contain the crushing despair and agonizing pain.
The first teardrop broke free from the restraint of her eyelashes, plummeting heavily onto the ornate gold-threaded carpet beneath her feet, quickly spreading into a small, dark, irregular wet patch.
The teardrop slid down her icy cheek, finally falling into her slightly parted, silently trembling lips.
Salty and cold.
A bitterness that could freeze the soul instantly flooded her tongue, ruthlessly overpowering all other tastes in the world.
None of those present had anticipated such a violent reaction from Furina. Now, they finally understood the meaning behind Neuvillette's earlier words:
Fidelle's departure had struck Furina with devastating force!
Yes, devastating. So devastating that Furina abandoned the divine dignity she had always maintained, revealing the vulnerable side she had long concealed.
The onlookers could never comprehend just how vital Fidelle was to Furina.
For five centuries, Furina had played the role of a solitary God, enduring endless loneliness, her heart weighed down by Fontaine's Prophecy, never allowing herself a moment's respite.
Only after meeting Fidelle did Furina taste a sliver of sweetness at the end of her arduous journey. Only Fidelle would unconditionally believe in her!
More than just a bodyguard and cook, Fidelle was the only safe harbor where Furina could let down her guard. She never needed Furina to explain the hardships and fears of her performance; with unwavering loyalty and unconditional trust, she filled the gaping void at the core of Furina's profound loneliness.
While the world gazed up at the divine radiance of the Hydro Archon, only Fidelle stubbornly and tenderly protected the fragility and authenticity of the mortal heart that was Furina. With a small cake, a gentle smile, and a steadfast, unspoken guardianship, she infused Furina's exhausting journey with the warmth of human connection—a reason to keep going.
In Furina's long-spun web of lies, Fidelle was the only person who could assure her that she was still truly seen, still believed in, as herself.
Therefore, Fidelle's departure felt like the sky had fallen for Furina.
-
Furina refused to meet anyone's gaze. She didn't look at Neuvillette, his deep sea eyes churning with worry, nor at Navia, who clutched her mouth to stifle her sobs, nor at Lumine's outstretched hand, frozen in mid-air, nor even at Paimon's wide, panicked eyes.
With a resolute turn, she fled.
Her high heels clacked against the mirror-smooth, dark marble floor, the hollow, frantic rhythm echoing through the chamber.
Click, click, click—
Each sharp tap resonated in the still air, striking the hearts of everyone present.
Her long gown, studded with star-like diamonds, dragged behind her, sweeping pathetically across the cold floor.
She wrenched open the heavy, ornately carved door to her private chambers with all her strength, then slammed it shut.
BANG!
The dull, thunderous crash struck their eardrums, completely severing all sight and sound from the outside world.
"Eh? What's Lady Furina doing...?"
The Melusine guard stationed at the door, too far away to know what had transpired in Neuvillette's office, looked on in confusion.
-
Inside Furina's room, she threw herself onto her bed, her crown clattering to the floor unnoticed. She buried her face in the pillow, her mind consumed by turmoil.
Soon, muffled sobs echoed from the room.
The guards stationed at Furina's door exchanged worried glances, uncertain what had happened.
In Neuvillette's office, the atmosphere froze after Furina fled.
On the carpet, a small, dark tearstain shimmered faintly in the afternoon sunlight.
Neuvillette's gaze lingered on that damp spot, his deep-sea eyes churning with complex undercurrents.
It was the solemn weight of an Adjudicator facing the capriciousness of Fate, and the helplessness of a dear friend unable to comfort a broken heart.
He slowly crouched down, his fingertips hovering in the cold air, as if wanting to touch the lingering mark of her sorrow. Yet, he never lowered them, leaving them suspended in the air for an eternity.