"Do you know why Sheila showed you those memories?"
"I don't."
"Do you understand any of it?"
"...I don't."
Faustina stared down, staring particularly at nothing. The waft coming from the scones and freshly made waffles triggered her hunger pangs, but she was too confused to even lift her head, or even a finger. She was also too ashamed to tell—to say that the memories are a mess in her mind, there was not even a single event that could describe the fragments; they're like shards simply scattered across a floor, you cannot form anything out of it.
Dietrich stared at her with sheer amusement. "Those are one of the questions that Noah will ask you soon enough."
"Say... my king." Faustina says. "What is the real purpose of me being here?"
"Sustaining the king's life." Dietrich answered, with his voice laced with astonishment. "Isn't that clear enough for you?"
"Why... me?" Faustina asked, as she clutched her dress. "Why must it be me?"
Dietrich stared at the dark-haired Faustina in silence. Her eyes were filled with confusion, or rather —
"You know why," the king answers. "But you ask yourself because you don't want to acknowledge it."
"What?"
Dietrich sighed, "Faustina. You cannot even move forward if you're like this."
With that, Faustina met his eye. They were filled with one thing:
Sympathy. Concern. Pity.
"I met someone who was like you, a long time ago." He says. "My wife."
Faustina stared in silence.
The king sipped on his tea, "You see, my wife Eleanor was an unstable young woman. Set off to marry the prince, whom she did not love. She had a lover back then, a baron at that. It was a scandal, such a high ranking lady to a measly baron—but I paid no attention to it. I pushed through the wedding."
Faustina sipped on her tea. It was Darjeeling. One of Eula's favorite.
"The thing is, the baron only wanted her for her money. It was crystal-clear, like looking at your reflection at a pond. It was so obvious, and I know that she realized it as well. But love, ah." The king smiled bitterly. "Love made her so blind. She asked 'why' and 'why' over and over again. She knew the answer, but she failed to acknowledge it. She didn't want to."
"Oh."
"Were you offended?"
"No... I'm," Faustina sighed. "Was she able to..."
"Accept it?" The king grinned. "Of course. I knocked some senses to her head. When we had our first born, she immediately recovered. Realized that perhaps it's time to start a new life. Start a new love."
"I see."
"You're smiling now." The king said, and smiled warmly.
Faustina found herself doing so. She blinked, and stared at her reflection at the cup.
"It seems so."
"Noah is not a tyrant. He may appear confusing and all, but that child is trying his best. I can't say so for the first king, because I myself hate him. I had him in my body and all I can say is he's a selfish prick. Be careful when leaking information to Octavius."
Faustina frowned, as Dietrich slowly turned pale.
"Hold on." Dietrich blinked. "Hold on!"
Dietrich stood up, and then suddenly a magical circle was summoned against the ground. Faustina stood in alert, eyeing the king with eyes wide open.
"Wh-what's going on?"
Dietrich chanted and then he let his fist meet the earth—and then eight figures made in clay appeared before Faustina.
"Noah." Dietrich says, and a clay doll disappears. "Noah. Noah. Noah."
All the remaining dolls disappeared, and only two remained.
Dietrich removed his fist from the ground, breathing heavily. Faustina rushed to the staggering king, supporting his physique. He was heaving, looking dizzy.
"Noah... and th-the first king." He breathed. "They're struggling to come back to this body. Two of them."
And as he said that, he collapsed.