Life had been chaotic. The fact was that he had finished with school, moved out from Hillworth, and now was not only adjusting to having his own place, but also was adjusting to his new job. In all honesty, he had no real reason to take on a job. He did not need to pay for rent thanks to his parents, and if he had wanted to, he could have simply slipped back into the schooling route.

However, Howl wanted more than such. His father had wanted one path for him, to mold him to be ready to inherit his own job. Yet the lad had stuck to his guns and wanted a much simpler lifestyle. His father called it romantic and impractical at best. The young man disagreed with his father politely upon several occasions, both seeming set in their views.

This was the only clear solution. To better understand what went into owning a cafe of his own, the well polished Howl had gotten himself a job at a local themed cafe. Father felt it was beneath Howl, but Howl had something to prove.

All of the time adjusting had left him with little time to patrol, and even less time to whisk away to his Wonder. However, thanks to taking on a double shift, the boy had been left with two days off from work. The first day he merely used to rest up and gather up what he'd need to take with him for another visit into the underwater office space. The teal-haired lad could be grateful over the fact that he no longer had to worry about a potential roommate coming in and interrupting him at any important moment.

One the second day, he awoke early with several objects at hand, and made his pledge to Nysa. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the familiar space again. He had to quickly turn away so he could avoid making himself sick from the liquidy substance outside of the window.

Before settling in for some work, the Squire went to the desk and started to prepare some tea. If he set it up now, then it would finish steeping, then he could let it sit to cool sufficiently. Once the preparations had been made, he set to work once more.

He might not have been overly experienced with tools, but the Squire was certain that using a hammer and nails did not require too much skill. It required precision and a delicate touch.

In all honesty, there weren't too many objects in the room that needed any sort of nails to help them look mended. However, one series of objects in the room had somewhat stuck in his mind.

The paintings.

Truth be told, they were thrashed. The claw marks torn through the canvas had ruined many a piece of artwork that decorated the space at one point. For now, he only wanted to set up a place for each painting upon the wall so they could be displayed proudly, despite their injuries from assault years ago. At some point he wanted to research if there was any way to potentially restore such old pieces of artwork that had undergone such damage.

He had managed to set in the nails for several of the smaller pieces, pulling the paintings away from their momentary resting spot upon the floor and giving them a new place to be displayed. It was an odd sensation, but he couldn't help but feel that the places he chose for each painting was just right. It was as if they were meant to be in each specific spot.

It was when he got to the biggest painting that he had to pause and look over the painting again. He carefully put the torn flaps down into place so he could gaze upon the odd painting of the unknown maiden. His gloved fingers curiously grazed over the odd Neptune-symbol upon the young lady's forehead, tracing over the shape inquisitively.

"She was quite an enchanting young lady, was she not?"

The eerie silence had been broken and soon enough a pair of teal eyes were turning to find a familiar see through form. "Ah... Ancestor... it is a pleasure to see you again." Since one could not shake hands with a ghost, he offered a humble bow of his upper body in respect. Being the sort to not want to act rude, he gave the spirit a response to his inquiry. "I find she is extremely lovely."

The Spirit seemed to hover in closer, as if inspecting something. Eventually his ancestor's voice spoke up again. "It would seem as if some things have changed since we last met, Young Squire." He paused and took what one could only imagine were a few steps back (since the man's feet weren't really even viewable). "I do recognize my old uniform. The colors suit you."

Unprompted, the lad set the painting against the wall carefully and did a well practiced turn around. His mother had taught him at a young age the importance of doing a turn around so that others could fully admire the clothing one wore. These were important things when one had a mother who was a model. "I must say, I am rather fond of the uniform, Ancestor. I believe you had quite excellent tastes in clothing in the past."

His Ancestor paused and removed his monocle for a moment to seemingly clean the piece of spiritual glass. It obviously hadn't gotten dirty, but was more of a habit than anything. "Was that little show necessary?" It seemed the turn around had not impressed the deceased man.

"I apologize Ancestor..." The Squire's voice was sincere and respectful. He had learned his lesson many years ago that one was to respect their elders. Once more, the lad picked the painting off against the wall and put the torn pieces into place. "I must confess, this painting... is truly a beautiful thing. It is... almost like a photograph."

"Pho-to-graph?" The word seemed foreign to the spirit. "Pray tell, what is a pho-to-graph?"

"Oh, goodness..." The boy rolled his eyes upward, realizing the error of using such a word to describe the painting. Photography hadn't existed when his Ancestor was alive. "A photograph... is essentially a picture which is made by light on a particular variety of paper. We call such paper 'film'... it requires no paints or artistic skill."

The see through man shook his head partially. "What is this sorcery you speak of? That sounds more like a demon's art."

"I assure you, one does not need to sell their soul for such a picture."

The spirit continued to shake his head from side to side. Whatever the lad had been telling him was not processing in the manner which the boy had wanted.

Sighing lightly, the boy turned to the painting once more, tenderly stroking over the symbol upon the lady's forehead. "Pray tell... who is the young lady in the painting?"

The former knight tilted his head, then mentioned "That would be the young lady you are destined to serve. That is the Princess of Neptune..."

"Princess Neptune...?" The moment the words drifted off his tongue, his Ancestor once more had vanished. Now that the Squire had more questions, the spirit had disappeared. It was quite inconvenient.

He stood in place, gazing over the painting ever so fondly. If he had liked the painting before, he had now fallen in love with it. It was proof that he also had a princess to serve, much like how Miss Sutai had the Princess Polaris to serve.

"...I... will find you... Princess..." Once more, he carefully set the painting against the wall before kneeling down in front of the Princess' image, pledging loyalty to an inanimate object.

When he stood up, he finally gave his attention to his tea, which was more than ready now. Somehow the tea seemed less important now. However, in an effort to prevent his Ancestor's workspace from burning down, he went to put out the flame and set up his tea properly.