Gathering Wives with a System Chapter 470 Dream, And The Habit Of Drinking

Emily found herself in a dream, a vivid one she was certain of.

She was tiny once more, her steps light and uncertain as she navigated a lengthy corridor.

The surroundings felt both intimately familiar and strangely remote, as though she had traversed it countless times yet hadn't witnessed it for ages.

Gentle lights, like small spectral beings, floated around her, shadowing her every move with a quiet sense of wonder.

Their silence was palpable, yet their presence offered a peculiar comfort.

As she glided forward, she turned her head, observing the luminous entities drifting in her wake. No trace of fear marred her features, only a naive excitement that seemed to accelerate her pace.

"Hurry up! You'll be left behind," she chirped, her voice brimming with youthful vigor.

The spirits readily matched her quickening pace.

A grand door marked the corridor's end.

It appeared to loom larger than her memory served. Intricate patterns adorned its surface, shifting subtly when she tried to focus, yet she hesitated not. Reaching out, she pushed it open with both hands.

Within, the office was precisely as she recalled.

Neatly piled documents covered a spacious desk.

Scrolls and files, exuding an aura of significance she couldn't quite grasp in her youth, lined the walls.

The entire chamber exuded an imposing majesty.

Her mother sat behind the desk, engrossed in a document while another hovered nearby, suspended by an unseen force Emily hadn't questioned then.

Now, however, Emily understood.

Those weren't mere papers; they were repositories of decisions, records, and stratagems pertaining to the Netherworld.

They embodied a level of authority, obligation, and might that most beings would find unmanageable.

Her mother had forged something immense, something that even formidable races like Moon Dragons or Celestial Kitsune would regard with considerable respect.

Back then, such matters held no weight for Emily.

To her younger self, they were simply dull pieces of paper.

"Emily, come here. Sit with mama."

Her mother's voice was soft, and the instant Emily entered, her mother's focus shifted. A gentle smile graced her lips, and the oppressive grandeur of the room seemed to lighten infinitesimally.

Emily's face instantly brightened.

"Okay!" she exclaimed, darting forward without a second thought.

She settled onto her mother's lap as if it were the most natural action. The documents continued their silent dance, and her mother remained absorbed in her work, yet an arm immediately encircled Emily, holding her fast.

"What were you doing?" her mother inquired, casting a glance downward.

"I was playing," Emily responded, nestling closer. "They followed me again."

"The spirits?" her mother clarified.

Emily nodded with alacrity.

"They seem quite fond of you," her mother remarked.

Emily made a slight pout. "Then they ought to do as I say, too."

Her mother emitted a soft chuckle, tinged with both amusement and deep affection. "They are not your personal attendants, Emily."

"But they should be," Emily protested playfully, though without genuine conviction.

Her mother offered no argument. Instead, she retrieved another document, resuming her perusal.

Emily followed her mother's gaze for a moment, attempting to decipher the content.

The symbols and script were utterly foreign to her. The documents' structure appeared intricate, and sustained focus on them quickly extinguished her interest.

Yet, she remained.

If occupying this space meant being near her mother, she was content to feign engagement.

"What is that one about?" Emily inquired, indicating a particular page.

Her mother glanced at it briefly. "It details a dispute."

"Between whom?" Emily pressed.

"Two territories. Both lay claim to the same tract of land," her mother elaborated.

A faint frown creased Emily's brow. "Then just give it to one of them."

Her mother gently shook her head. "It's not quite so straightforward."

"Why isn't it?"

"Because the opposing party would never consent to such an arrangement," her mother explained.

Emily pondered this for a short while. The logic seemed flawed, yet she couldn't articulate precisely why.

"Then give them both something else instead," she proposed after a brief silence.

Her mother ceased reading and regarded her more intently.

"That isn't such a bad notion," she conceded.

Emily's eyes widened with delight. "Really?"

"It hinges on what they prize," her mother added calmly.

Emily nodded as if understanding, though the meaning remained elusive. What truly mattered to her was that her mother had listened.

She leaned back against her mother, observing the continuous movement of the documents. Her mother occasionally murmured softly, making minute adjustments or decisions without disrupting her workflow.

As time went on, Emily's attention began to wander. The room was quiet, its presence a gentle weight upon her awareness. The documents blurred into insignificance, and her interest waned.

Still, she did not depart.

She remained stationary, finding solace in the very spot where her mother was.

The embrace, the comforting presence, and the profound peace of being held were

sufficient.

The dream dissolved without any forewarning.

Emily’s eyes fluttered open, her consciousness taking a beat to reorient itself to her surroundings. A faint smile graced her features, though the precise reason for it eluded her.

Suddenly, a piercing ache flared in her head.

She winced, her fingers instinctively seeking her temple. Her mouth was parched, and her body felt uncommonly heavy. The physical distress jolted her fully awake.

She slowly pushed herself upright, her eyes adjusting as the room gradually came into sharper view. The chamber was shrouded in dimness, pierced only by a weak, external light. Night still held sway, and an enveloping silence prevailed.

Reaching for the vessel on the nightstand, her movements were somewhat hesitant.

After filling it with water, she consumed it with haste.

Instant relief followed.

"That’s much better," she vocalized softly.

Setting the container down, she massaged her forehead.

"Perhaps I indulged a little too much," she confessed to herself in a hushed tone.

A persistent fuzziness remained, subtle but undeniable.

Her gaze drifted towards the opposite side of the bed.

Alice was slumbering peacefully, her breaths measured and even.

Emily observed her for a silent spell.

Ever since Isaac and Alice became aware of her recurring nightmares, she no longer slept alone. Either Alice or Isaac would stay by her side. Even then, when sharing a bed with Alice, a frequent occurrence was for Emily to shift to Isaac’s room mid-sleep.

"I feared Alice or Isaac might notice, yet my apprehension seems to have been unwarranted," Emily whispered.

Isaac and Alice maintained a resolute stance on a singular matter.

No alcohol.

The circumstance—be it a celebration, a triumph, or a significant occasion—never altered their conviction. They strictly forbade her from consuming it.

A suspicion lingered that this prohibition stemmed from an incident during the Calloway Estate festivities, an event she couldn't quite recall.

This void in her memory only fueled her intrigue.

Tonight, she had seized the opportunity. With the city celebrating her Lord Quest completion and both Isaac and Alice occupied, she had discreetly indulged in a forbidden drink.

"I believe I now grasp why Mother found it so appealing," she mused, a subtle, contemplative smile playing on her lips.

It transcended mere flavor; it was the sensation it evoked.

A distinct lightness pervaded, a liberating feeling that untethered her thoughts. A mischievous spirit took hold, prompting a quiet chuckle as she recalled Isaac’s reaction.

The sheer astonishment on his face when she voiced ‘that’ particular request had been unmistakable.

"I actually said that," she uttered, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring her voice. She covered her mouth, suppressing a louder utterance. "Thankfully, no one realized I was tipsy," she added with a soft exhale. Had they discovered it, she would certainly have faced reprimand. Alice, especially, would not overlook such a transgression, regardless of her affection. She was unyielding on such matters.

Emily took another sip of water, then resolved to return to slumber.

Without conscious deliberation, she slid out of bed. Her physical form flickered, her presence growing ethereal. She phased through the wall, bypassing the door entirely.

The residence was steeped in silence.

Navigating through its quiet corridors, she paused outside Isaac’s chamber.

Without hesitation, she once again traversed the solid barrier.

Within, the room was cast in faint illumination.

Isaac and Catherine lay sleeping, unclothed, their forms draped by a light sheet. Catherine faced away, her back nestled against Isaac, his arm loosely encircling her waist.

Emily ascended onto the bed, settling herself behind Isaac and draping her arms around him.

For a brief moment, there was stillness. Then Isaac stirred slightly. "Emily? Couldn't sleep?" he inquired, his voice a low rumble of sleepiness.

She was quietly surprised by his swift recognition of her, even without a word, and his immediate concern upon waking.

A smile bloomed on her face, observing his instant worry for her.

"Were you having nightmares?" he continued, his tone gentle and semi-conscious.

His arm shifted, releasing Catherine, and reached back to gently pat Emily’s head. "There. There. Don't be afraid. Nothing to fret over."

A wave of warmth washed over Emily at his gesture.

She tightened her embrace but remained silent.

To speak would fully awaken him, an outcome she wished to avoid. Thus, she closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Isaac resumed his gentle patting, his movements slow and natural.

After a short interval, he shifted subtly, turning in his sleep.

He now faced her.

His arm curled around her, his hand moving to her back, continuing the same soothing rhythm.