The evening after that unexpected marriage proposal, I was sitting in Uncle Paul's office, while Uncle poured himself a drink from his desk.

"Do you want some?" he asked, motioning at the wine bottle of champagne he had in hand.

"No thanks… I don’t drink."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Yet the other day you were reeking of a potent smell worthy of the drunkest of drunkards."

"That... was a brief moment of vulnerability."

"Then consider this one," Despite my words, he poured a second glass, which he then slid toward me. "A temporary moment of weakness, too. Unless you have very special tastes when it comes to moments of weakness?"

"This will do fine. Thanks." I said, accepting the drink that was offered. I was taking my first gulp when I heard Uncle say something that made me almost choke on my drink.

"You were proposed to in marriage by the princess, weren’t you?"

"How does Uncle know?!"

"How else was I supposed to interpret a princess making the long and unannounced journey to my house without even bothering to show up to me, the man of the house? Besides, this outcome was rather predictable... Don’t tell me you were dense enough to not expect that proposition?"

"Was I supposed to expect it?"

"A Princess comes to greet you before an audience, a King gives you a seat beside him, and you don’t notice. Didn't I tell you that the Royal family coveted your existence and that they would come for you, attempting to seek favor, find your good side?"

"You did, but when you said that I was expecting them to come at me with wealth, lands, or something to bargain with, I don’t know... something— but something else but that."

To my words, the corners of Uncle's lips curled into a smirk: "Is there a particular land or set amount of wealth proposed to you that would’ve earned your good favors?"

To my silence, Uncle went on, "See, there isn’t. Or at least, you don’t know, and, certainly, they don't either. This was the safest way for them to secure you among their ranks, or the inverse; in either case, it was the safest course of action for the royal family, especially since you're after the Fourteen, among whom is the prince Ymir. Had we, Douglas, been born noble, with how voracious they are, our name would no longer be Douglas; it would have been Altair— if not —that of a high-ranking noble family."

Hearing Uncle’s words, I remembered the situation Elliel and his fiance were in.

How ironic that I gave him advice back then, not knowing that I would be confronted with something similar to what I thought was so unlikely to ever happen to me.

"So... what answer did you give the princess?"

"I refused."

Uncle didn’t even seem surprised by the answer and instead casually pursued by asking, "May I ask why you refused? From every considerable point of view, the princess seemed to be a fairly "good match" for you, if I may say so."

"I already have someone."

"That I know, and so did the princess, but didn’t she offer you, besides the marriage proposition, a very special accord?"

"You know everything, don’t you, Uncle?"

"Just that which I’m aware of."

I couldn't help but think of the ridiculous proposition I had been made earlier in the afternoon as I listened to his words.

"Indeed, Uncle, she claimed being fine with a polygamic relationship like the one her great-grandfather had with his two wives. But I must reformulate my earlier words: "I have someone, and that someone would understandably never accept such an agreement.""

At first, Uncle looked at me as though he was trying but was having a hard time understanding where I was coming from, but in the end, he concluded, "We, Douglas, each one of us, have a very unique relationship with partners over our lives, so I might have a little difficulty understanding the issue at hand, but I can understand the beauty of such a relationship, despite how much it is a shame in comparison to what could’ve been accomplished had you accepted."

It was at that moment that the realization dawned on me.

"Uncle, you knew that proposal was coming the moment I first stepped foot in this castle. You'd have preferred if I'd accepted, wouldn't you?"

"If you’re alluding to our recovery of the apostle's remnant, no, I wasn’t counting on this proposal to secure it. But ideally, yes. Having you wed to the royal family would’ve been nothing short of a blessing for me. But you said, "no." And there is nothing I can do about that, nor did I ever plan to interfere with any decision you might have taken. Things are what they are."

Seemingly done with this particular topic, Uncle and I, pouring each other's drink, sank into a calm silence. It was then that, confronted with the painting that immediately caught my eye the first time I entered this room, I asked, "Uncle, may I ask who these two men in the painting are?"

"Them? … These two were Aiden and Austen Douglas, twins born seven generations before the generation of Mathilda and I."

There was in Uncle’s voice, while voicing these words, a discernible pride.

"They weren’t just anyone, were they?"

"Indeed, they weren’t just any ancestor for us, Douglas. These two were pioneers in the establishment of the Douglas Conglomerate, as it was known at its very prime."

As to narrate a passionate story, Uncle stood up to face the large painting behind him. "For most, our Douglas family's history can be summarized by the fact that we found prosperity with the assistance of our Holy Paladin ancestor, ignoring all that has accomplished men and women that our family has spawned in between."

But in truth, all that our ancestor Douglas did for us was give us a name—a name that, without the effort of our forefathers that came thereafter, would have made us equal to merely a noble family of low rank and standing. It was magic-less men and women like these that tore our family's way through to where the Douglas family stood."

"Though the name "Douglas" was what propelled our Douglas family's ascension, it was merely a component of the machine; the rest was accomplished through the sweat and blood of strong, cunning, hardworking individuals, among whom these two were the most prominent."

"Born as a pair of twins, Austen, the alleged elder brother, was expected to become the head of the family, whilst Aiden, the younger brother, was expected to become what I once should've been to Mathilda, a second, a shadow. Just like us, they were taught, raised for that purpose: Austen to become the head of the family and Aiden, his brother’s shadow, and that they did. They went on, becoming that which was expected of them."

"Aiden grew up to take the seat that had been prepared for him, whereas his younger brother was sent on to fight at the head of the legion army during the crusade waged at the time."

"According to texts we have of that time, we know that the younger brother used to resent and envy the alleged elder, and had always coveted his brother's seat, but after the crusade he waged, he came out a changed man. He returned to his family stripped of covetous ambition and instead revived with a new flame and a new purpose. A new endeavor that was, upon being heard by his brother, soon joined by him."

"Despite no longer having the living support of their Holy Paladin ancestor, the two brothers fought for a continental change with only their names and the weight their words carried at the time. It took them half their lives, but they both accomplished what they had fought for so long. By their actions, they ensured that commoners were no longer allowed or expected to join the legion, only aina-users, while also establishing their family's monopoly over the knighthood and the legionary market across the continent, establishing a lasting legacy for the descending Douglas generation."

Reminded by Uncle’s words, I remembered the misunderstanding I had with Syrius about the fact that every commoner could simply join the legion.

"History does not tell us what exactly Austen saw during the crusade that changed him that much, but I believe having seen up close what a crusade is like, I can only imagine it being the sight of the worthlessness and the fleeting nature of a life."

Despite being no aina-user, Uncle, as told by Lord Marcel, during the crusade that last took place, fought side by side with legionaries and paladins.

"How was it, the crusade?"

"Unlike Mathilda, I was never particularly gifted in either wit, strength of character, or strength, making me look in our father’s eyes like an inferior. I was young, eager to prove my worth. I went to wage a war beyond my capacity to handle. I returned home humbled, self-aware of my shortcomings, and set on taking over the role that had always been destined for me, the one to be my sister's shadow, only to discover that my sister had fled, leaving behind everything I had been, for years, deemed unfit to lead. It took me a long time to understand her decision. I had seen up close how worthless life can be, and it required the birth of my own son to understand how precious it could also be."

"Just like Austen and Aiden had, I wish to leave behind a legacy to my son, grandchildren, and all subsequent descendants; that is the only reason I put up with the aristocratic endeavors, aside from the fact that Mathilda and Barbara, your mothers, came up to my throat and forced me to yield to their mother’s horrifying plan."

I care for this family. I have many reasons to. The first being that this family was Maa's family, and the second being that this family was the one that took care of Barbara when it was what she needed most.

"They did that?"

"They have. Now, after all they have pulled off so far, they have once again put me in yet another difficult position. "

"I don’t know if I should, nor do I feel it would help... but well, sorry for that. "

"Indeed, that isn’t going to help in the slightest. "But I know something that would help," he said, reaching for the bottle and pouring the last drop for the two of us.

"What is it?"

He leaned against the table, looked back at the painting, and said, "You see, Ronandt, I am a man of great abhorrence for violence. That’s a reason I have avoided dipping into most of the aristocracy’s activities. I believe it to be a powerful but tragically flawed tool. When it comes to the matter you are here for, I have tried to avoid going to these tragic lengths. But I do understand that when the time comes, there are situations that require an appropriate response, and sometimes the appropriate and only remaining response one might have left is violence."

In a single motion, he gulped down the last drop of champagne he had and looked at me, saying, "I would’ve loved to never have to demand that kind of help from you, but we are in such a time and facing such a situation. So I'm left with no other choice but to ask you, "Will you help me, Faceless One?"