The Choice Of Fate || The Promised Neverland

Chapter 40: The First Minerva

Sistine's POV:

I wake up in a soft bed rather than the cold, comfortable floor that I used to wake up to. I sit up and look around, finding Papa's book on the bedside cabinet. I take it in my arms and hug it with my legs, resting my forehead on it.

I miss you, Papa... I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your wish to take care of Genesis... He beat me to it.

It's only been a day since I left the capital. Millions of kids welcomed me at Paradise Hideout, and as much as I want to say it felt like home...

... It didn't.

"Oh, you're up." I whirl my head to the door in fright, meeting the curious gaze of my former comrade. Norman walks over and takes a seat on the only bed next to mine, asking, "How are you feeling?"

I merely shrug, keeping my eyes low. I still don't want to look at him. Especially after... He saw me break down yesterday.

"Do you want breakfast?" He asks. "You can join us." I nod, and he leads me to the dining hall. A sea of children rush over to greet Norman, referring to him as Boss or William Minerva. He nods in dismissal, leading me over to some of the younger kids.

One of the little ones look up at me, then point. "Sir Minerva, she looks like you!" Both of us flinch at the sudden comment, meeting each other's eyes and forming a nervous smile. His, out of his usual sheepish behavior, and mine, well... Out of fear, I guess.

I eat in silence, listening to the conversations of the kids. They talk about different hobbies, interests... Sometimes even their crushes in this hideaway, which is kind of weird. Luckily, I didn't have to listen for long since I finished rather quickly. Picking up my plate, I excuse myself and rush out of the room and into the kitchen.

I wash the plate, glass, and utensils in silence. However, I catch a glimpse of something fluffy, which causes me to turn, only to find a girl crouching down to feed three massive wolves. Even from far away, I can hear her speak an oddly familiar language.

"Don't eat too fast," she utters to the dogs, "You're going to get your stomach upset again..."

I turn away, not wanting to disturb her. She used a different language, so she might not like being talked to. Either that, or she doesn't know how to speak human language.

I hope it isn't the latter...

I suddenly feel a tingling sensation on the back of my knee, making me yelp and jump in surprise. The wolf looks at me in confusion, and the girl does as well.

She stares at me with a piercing blue eye, her other eye being covered with loosely braided blonde hair. Odd, she looks like... Why does she remind me of...

I shyly wave a hi and after washing my hands, I bend down to pet the wolf. He relaxes in the cool sensation of the water, and, without thinking of the language I'm using, I utter, "You're a very sneaky one, aren't you?"

The girl in the room seizes my wrist and grips it rather firmly, making me yelp and turn to her in fear. I try to keep myself from screaming, hot tears already forming in my eyes. "Ow! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-!"

"Where did you come from?" She asks strictly, speaking actual human language. I flinch at her question, staring at her suspicious features.

"G-Grace... Field..?" I answer, unsure of what answer she's looking for.

"Why do you smell like that?"

"Like what?" I yelp. "Pl- please don't hurt me. I didn't mean to offend you..."

She turns to the wolf beside me, then sighs and lets go of my wrist. "Who are you?" She asks.

I look around the place and finds nobody's presence. Even so, I whisper in the language of entities, "82194, Sistine. Formed child of Grace Field. Current adopted daughter of P--... Archduke Leuvis."

She falls silent at my words, nodding in understanding a while after. "Come with me," she tells me, leading me to my bedroom. As it turns out, she owns the other bed... Closing and locking the door, she lies down on her bed, asking me, "Show me your evidence."

"I'm sorry?"

"You said you were adopted by the brother of the queen," she clarifies. "Where's your proof?"

Nodding in understanding, I take out the last letter Papa gave me, handing it to her. "He disappeared a few weeks ago," I mutter as she reads the letter. "Before I knew it, Nor-- I mean, William Minerva, just sneaks into the capital and takes me away..."

"... No wonder he took you," she responds, handing the letter back to me. "I bet he's bound to use your position to his advantage someday..."

"... What do you mean?"

She shakes her head in dismissal, sitting up and holding out her hand to me. "Name's Ayshe. I was raised by a so-called demon. Lost my father to that wreck of a savior, William Minerva."

"Oh, I'm..." I shake her hand, whispering softly, "I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Humans are jerks, am I right?" She asks,  shrugging dismissively. "It sucks that we have to be part of that race..."

I nod silently, asking, "Your father was really nice, too, huh?" A hum is received as a response.

"He didn't deserve to die like that." One of the wolves jump to her bed, to which she hugs and snuggles it in response. "What was the Duke like? I heard he's an emotionless bundle of cells."

A snort escapes me as I shake my head. "He was like an actual father, actually," I reply, hugging my pillow. "He taught me how to beat him at chess... I think he raised me better than Mama did."

"'Mama'?"

"My caretaker in Grace Field. She was a bit of a sadistic killer." The girl snorts, to which another snicker escapes me. "Say, why do you look like Mr. James Ratri?"

She flinches at my sudden question, sitting straight. "James... Who?" She cocks her head to the side, making sure her right side remains covered.

"James Ratri! He was the first William Minerva, before the one that's currently here."

"Who's the current one?" She asks me.

"22194, Norman. One of my brothers," I answer.

"... I look like the first Minerva?" She asks, and I nod enthusiastically. She lifts a finger to her chin in thought. "Huh... Do you think... Although it sounds kinda stupid, but... Could I be... related to him, somehow?"

"I mean, it's not impossible," I reply, to which she nods in response. "That would be cool, though!"

Although I'm afraid to ask why, I find her eyes slowly reflect silent sorrow, as she utters, "Yeah...

"... It probably would have been."