Darlian was not the tyrannical Demon Lord people talked about; her attitude toward others was quite polite and humble, without arrogance or prejudice.
Therefore, her demeanor toward Darlian could be described as friendly.
“Finihiya, do you think our current situation resembles a secret meeting between young ladies?”
“Please, at least call it a tea party…!”
Finihiya subtly corrected Darlian’s somewhat improper choice of words.
A secret meeting?
It’s not like this is a clandestine gathering that must be hidden from others.
The wooden comb she was using to fix her hair was set down once again.
Finihiya opened the drawer and neatly placed the comb back in its original corner before slowly getting up and walking toward the bed.
Darlian’s previously interested mood had faded most of the way by now.
As Finihiya slipped off her slippers, she heard Darlian’s disinterested voice.
“Is there really nothing interesting here?”
“No.”
Although Finihiya wasn’t sure what Darlian meant by ‘interesting,’ she refused to entertain the topic directly.
In the bedroom, lit only by two oil lamps and a few burning candles, the pale blue-white flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the room, followed closely by the loud thunder roaring from the high sky above.
The rain continued to pour harder.
After climbing into bed, Finihiya sat facing the Holy Mother Statue on the bedside cabinet and closed her eyes in a posture of prayer.
“Lord! I entrust my soul to You. Because I trust You, I leave all my worries to You…”
Darlian silently watched Finihiya’s actions, twirling the tip of her hair with her slender fingers, without interrupting.
Only after Finihiya lowered her joined hands did Darlian part her lips slightly to ask,
“What are you doing?”
“Praying!” Finihiya explained with a flat tone. “Seeking the Lord’s protection and peace through the night.”
“I see.”
Finihiya shifted her legs slowly and turned toward Darlian, then spoke in the same monotone voice.
“Darlian, do you want to try?”
“Huh?” Darlian’s finger, still curled around her beautiful hair strand, suddenly froze, her expression turning subtly complex.
“Why would I pray to your ‘Lord’? I’m the Demon Lord. If anything, this guy should be praying to me.”
Upon hearing Darlian’s answer, Finihiya pursed her lips and thought for a moment.
To the demon tribe, Darlian was their ‘Lord’—the Demon Lord held an exalted prestige among demons.
“Well then, Finihiya will pray to you from now on.”
Just as Finihiya pinched the corner of the thin quilt, preparing to lie down, Darlian’s words caught her off guard, causing her to raise her eyebrows slightly.
“Compared to that dead man, I’m alive and here. If you pray to me, I might be able to grant all your future wishes. You won’t have to rely on miracles anymore.”
“That’s a very tempting offer.”
Finihiya’s voice remained very calm, clearly not dwelling on Darlian’s words.
“Right? Finihiya, why don’t you consider it?”
At that, Finihiya lifted her gaze to meet Darlian’s jet-black eyes, then quickly changed the subject.
“It’s getting late. We should sleep.”
“Are you really not going to consider it?”
“No, thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty.”
“That’s really too bad…”
Sensing a slight disappointment in Darlian’s voice, Finihiya’s eyes revealed a subtle, helpless expression.
She hadn’t expected Darlian’s previous words to be anything but a joke.
Blowing out the candle on the bedside cabinet, the room’s light dimmed considerably, leaving only the faint orange glow of the oil lamps.
Finihiya tucked the thin quilt up over her upper body.
Due to the storm outside, even though it was midsummer’s deep night, a coolness inviting sleep permeated the room.
The comfortable weather made her feel increasingly drowsy.
Just as she was about to drift off, Finihiya suddenly felt a light touch on the back of her hand.
Thinking it was an accidental touch from Darlian, she was startled when her right hand was gently but warmly enclosed by another palm.
Her sleepiness instantly vanished for the most part. She tilted her head to look sideways.
In the dim light, Darlian’s slender, graceful silhouette was faintly visible.
Though the poor lighting obscured Darlian’s features, Finihiya could sense Darlian silently watching her.
“Can I hold your hand as I sleep?”
Darlian’s voice came from the darkness, laced with a faint smile.
Finihiya was silent for a moment, contemplating the strange request, but she didn’t overthink it.
“If you like holding hands like this.”
“Hehe~”
***
After days of unceasing rain, the season had entered early August.
Walking along the bright corridor, which the servants carefully kept polished to a soft gleam, Finihiya carried a just-finished book as she headed toward the library.
The damp wind continued to blow.
Due to the continuous rain, the courtyard flowers drooped weakly, their heads hanging low and lifeless.
Treading lightly on the corridor floor, Finihiya moved forward at a leisurely pace.
“Ouch! Be gentle.”
“All right, all right…”
Passing by a room used as a storage closet, Finihiya heard voices from inside.
The door was left open, and from the corridor she could see two Demi-human Maids crouched in the corner of the room.
One maid, sitting on a low stool, was removing a shoe to reveal a smooth foot. Judging by her slightly wrinkled, pained expression, she seemed to have twisted her ankle.
The other maid, with flaxen long hair, was squatting in front, carefully touching the injured ankle.
“I told you to be careful. Falling from that height could kill a normal person.”
The flaxen-haired maid spoke earnestly, then raised both hands over the injured ankle and softly chanted a spell.
“I’m not normal. I’m strong.”
A faint green light emanated from the flaxen-haired maid’s hands, gently enveloping the injured ankle.
After a moment, the flaxen-haired maid looked up and asked,
“How is it? Any better?”
“No! Not at all.”
“Is that so? I thought so.” Upon hearing the answer, the flaxen-haired maid sighed in resignation. “Looks like we’ll have to apply some ice then.”
Finihiya quietly observed for a while before resuming her slow walk forward.
She had long known that Healer Magic wasn’t omnipotent—it was mostly useful only for treating surface wounds.
When it came to internal injuries, its effects were often disappointing.
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