"Ugh..."
Rest groaned as he collapsed forward.
The strike had been too fast for the naked eye to track—it was as if he had teleported. It was a godspeed attack delivered by High Accelerator, the ace in the hole for Dieble, the veteran butler of the House of Rosemary.
"Rest!"
"Rest-san!"
The Rosemary sisters cried out in anguish. They scrambled to his side immediately to check on him. While he was covered in bruises, there didn't appear to be any deep wounds.
"Dieble, honestly! You went way too far!"
"She's right! There was no need to go this far!"
The sisters glared at the butler in unison. Facing their burning fury, Dieble offered no excuses. He simply folded at the waist, bowing deeply.
"...My deepest apologies, my ladies."
"Calm yourselves, daughters. This happened in the middle of a spar. Do not blame Dieble."
"Father!"
"More importantly... tend to his wounds."
"Ah...!"
The sisters hurriedly began to treat Rest with magic. The butler straightened up and gave a silent nod of thanks to his master, Albert, for the intervention.
"I don't mind that," Albert said. "Tell me... what did you think of him?"
"I believe my assessment aligns with yours, My Lord," the butler answered respectfully. "I can personally guarantee that young Master Rest possesses strength more than worthy of the House of Rosemary's patronage."
"I see. Yes, I suppose so..."
Albert had reached the same conclusion. As a mage, Rest displayed a level of technical mastery that defied his years. He was still green and lacked formal knowledge, but in time, he would likely blossom into a mage who surpassed even Albert himself—the head of the Court Mages.
"That boy will surely go down in history as a Great Mage... He is worth tethering to this house, even if it means taking him in as a husband for one of the young ladies."
"..."
The butler whispered the suggestion in a low voice so the girls wouldn't overhear. That, too, was something Albert had been considering—or rather, something he had been forced to acknowledge.
The House of Rosemary had no male heirs, only two daughters. Eventually, one of them would have to take a husband to carry on the family name. As a doting father, Albert wanted his daughters to marry someone they truly desired, regardless of social status. If possible, a talented mage was always the ideal candidate, which was why he’d tried to introduce them to boys like Cedric and other peers.
(This boy... Rest-kun would be beyond reproach. And yet...)
Rest was powerful. He was still unpolished, but with proper experience and education, he would become a titan in the magical world. He was undeniably someone the House of Rosemary needed to secure. However, contrary to those rational thoughts, a part of Albert simply couldn't accept it.
"It's okay, Rest. I'll cast healing magic on you right now!"
"We're here for you. It's going to be alright, Rest-san...!"
Viola and Primula—Albert's two beloved daughters—were practically glued to the fallen Rest, nursing him with frantic devotion. It was glaringly obvious that not just one of them, but both of them, harbored deep feelings for the boy.
(Taking him as a son-in-law... well, that’s one thing. But am I really going to lose both of them to him...?)
Viola and Primula were close sisters, despite their opposite personalities. But at their core, they were the spitting image of Albert's wife—the Marchioness Rosemary. Simply put, they possessed a core of absolute stubbornness. Once they decided on something—or someone—important, they would never back down. Not even for their own sister.
(Rest-kun, I acknowledge your talent. I'm grateful you saved my daughters, and I'll even write that recommendation letter for the academy. But...!)
"I never said you could have both of them!"
Watching his daughters hover over the boy like two lovesick maidens, Marquis Rosemary let out a scream, shedding metaphorical tears of blood.