Bayonetta wasn't wearing anything. Her beautiful figure stood fully exposed under the sunlight.
She stood in front of the full-length mirror on the bedroom side, thinking for a moment, then reached for the same dress she had rejected just ten minutes earlier. It was a black backless evening gown, meant to pair with black high heels. Around it, a dozen similar dresses lay discarded. Jeanne was doing something similar, except she had lined up dozens of pairs of high heels beside the mirror, trying to find the perfect match for her deep red dress. Only Solomon was sitting on the sofa in the bedroom, chatting idly and incoherently with the Cheshire Cat in his arms—so aimless and noisy that even he didn't understand what he was saying. He'd already been sitting there for an hour and a half, racking his brain to compliment the witches' fashion sense in hopes of shortening their endless dress-up session.
"This evening gown…"
Before he could finish, the black-haired witch rolled her eyes at him and walked back to try on yet another dress. She merely wanted to show Solomon, not solicit his opinion. Nothing he said would change her mysterious, universal law–like determination in selecting an outfit, as unwavering as Earth's orbit around the Sun.
"We're just going to visit Kaecilius, Bayonetta."
"If you cared about your personal relationships, you'd know Kaecilius might be introducing us to his partner," Bayonetta's voice called from the walk-in closet. "He treats you like his own child. We must be polite. Look at this one—too revealing?"
"Whoa! Why didn't you wear that last night?" Solomon's eyes lit up.
"Because every time you ruin the outfit!"
"We can wash clothes just like we wash sheets. That's what washing machines are for!" the sorcerer said, hands spread innocently. "Besides, it's not me who acts like a showerhead."
"Idiot!" Jeanne giggled as she passed by the sorcerer, who had just been smacked in the head by a supersonic clothes hanger. With a smile, she snatched up the tray of snacks just delivered by the maid and walked out. The hem of her deep red dress intentionally—or perhaps unintentionally—brushed across Solomon's hand resting on the arm of the sofa. "I'm ready, Cereza!" she called out, stuffing her mouth with food (carefully avoiding her lipstick) as she walked down the hall. "Hurry up or we'll miss dinner!"
Phoenix was disappointed she couldn't join them. After all, Kaecilius's new partner was an ordinary person, and Solomon and the witches couldn't openly display any supernatural powers for fear of alarming her—at least not unless she became Kaecilius's true partner. Only then could Solomon safely reveal Phoenix and the supernatural world to her. In fact, this visit wasn't only prompted by Kaecilius's invitation—the Ancient One had also tasked Solomon with maintaining close communication with him during this period to monitor his mental state and dreams. Even powerful vampires could affect the environment around them; it was only natural that Odin, Allfather of the Gods, could do the same. Kaecilius's dreams had become one of Kamar-Taj's key leads in deciphering the prophecy of Ragnarok. Solomon viewed the fall of the Asgardian Empire as both a crisis and an opportunity for humanity, so he spared no effort in gathering relevant information.
The Ancient One was glad to see Kaecilius emerging from the shadow of his wife's death, but fractures in the mind aren't easily repaired. Should a spellcaster's mind crack again, the consequences could be disastrous. Moreover, ordinary humans didn't live as long as mystics. Without rare alchemical elixirs or the life-extending surgeries developed by the Immortal City, Kaecilius would inevitably face another heartbreaking farewell. Thus, Solomon's mission now included persuading Kaecilius to think things through.
If Kaecilius was serious, Solomon could help him—perhaps even extend the woman's life.
So far, only Gideon Malick had received that benefit. The old dog now had rejuvenated temples and had to dye his hair and wear makeup to appear old, lest anyone grow suspicious. Who knew what tricks Baron Mordo had pulled—now, on paper, Solomon was legally Kaecilius's adopted son. That must've been what Kaecilius told his girlfriend too, because the woman who answered the door after Solomon and the witches rang the bell seemed very flustered.
"You're Solomon, right? Oh my god, you're so tall!" The blonde woman in an apron forced a delighted expression, spreading her arms as if to offer a hug—but then Bayonetta and Jeanne walked in behind Solomon, both dressed to perfection and clearly curious. The woman quickly wiped her hands on her apron and gave up on the idea of a hug.
"Hello, Ms. Jacob," Solomon smiled and gently embraced her. He could see how hard she was trying to blend in with the family and responded accordingly. "These are my partners—Bayonetta and Jeanne," he introduced, but before he could finish, the two witches had already stepped around him and shaken her hand. Solomon just shrugged and handed over the ribbon-wrapped wine bottle. "I think you'll enjoy this."
"Oh! Okay!" The blonde woman cradled the wine bottle with wide eyes, momentarily speechless.
Kaecilius clearly hadn't told her that his adopted son was in a… polygamous relationship. And not just with anyone, but with two women who were absurdly beautiful and intimidatingly well-built. Perhaps it was their height or their flawless features—each one was imposing alone, but together they were overwhelming. It was more than any ordinary person could handle. Her attempt at a warm welcome had already drained all her courage. Seeing her flustered like this, Solomon was extremely glad Bayonetta had vetoed his idea of dressing formally. He'd wanted to wear a tuxedo and carry an ornate sword to express his respect for the occasion. But Bayonetta had said that was idiotic—it would only terrify the poor woman. The fact that Kaecilius had kept things from her was already unfair; adding a pompous, sword-carrying adopted son into the mix might've sent her into a meltdown, sobbing while calculating future psychiatric expenses.
She'd said that while applying lipstick at her vanity, and Solomon hadn't been able to stop his eyes from wandering. Now he fully agreed with her. Thank god the household was under her command—otherwise, things would spiral out of control fast. That said, he also wanted to point out that the witches' dresses were a bit too extravagant. This wasn't a fashion show.
But both witches ignored him completely and did as they pleased.
"Come on in! Kaecilius is making dinner. He's so happy you're here!" Ms. Jacob finally managed to squeeze out a sentence. Solomon discreetly hid one hand behind his back and cast a calming spell to stabilize her emotions. If she started crying now, it would be a disaster. To his surprise, Bayonetta and Jeanne had already taken a liking to her.
"We're happy too," Bayonetta said with a wink, motioning for Solomon to catch up. A tiny calming spell wasn't nearly enough—she intended to help the woman truly relax. "Let the men handle the kitchen. We girls have plenty to talk about!"
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