What on earth is going on?
Flora really wanted to shake Elka awake and say to her: “You’re asleep, but I can’t fall asleep.”
But she was being held so tightly, and now her body was so small that with Elka just wrapping her arms around her, she couldn’t move at all.
She could feel her right arm surrounded by softness, could hear the even, steady sound of breathing, and even the gardenia fragrance that had been so sharp while Elka was awake was no longer so overwhelming after she’d fallen asleep.
Flora recalled Link’s “Sorry”—so that was referring to Elka’s nighttime assault on her.
That was undoubtedly one of Moliyar’s little tricks.
[What’s Elka’s deal, anyway?]
Flora really wanted to curse, but what concerned her even more right now was the elf holding her.
After all, she’d sometimes think of Elka, but surely it wasn’t that her tiny difference was discovered and Moliyar was deliberately targeting her?
Thinking that, she turned her head, using the dim light in the room to observe the sleeping Elka.
Compared to the elves she knew, the mage before her right now was completely unguarded, without any barrier; the distance she’d always felt before had completely vanished.
Disheveled, fragile, falling apart.
It was hard to imagine these words could be used to describe Elka.
If this wasn’t an act, then was it because she’d noticed Flora had seen through her sweet words and couldn’t accept that a lowly human would dare resist an elf like her, and so she’d lost control?
That was the only explanation Flora could think of.
But anyone who could cooperate with Moliyar to control her wouldn’t lose it over such a minor failure.
[This isn’t right.]
The more Flora thought about it, the more awake she became.
Elka’s dispelling the bracelet’s effect for her—maybe even blocking out surveillance—made her even more uneasy.
But…
Why did she feel such happiness at Elka clinging so close to her and deliberately creating such a sealed space?
Even if a magical creation could be attached to its creator, there was no magic, incense, or potion at play here, and even though she clearly disliked it, her heart was still beating abnormally—something was definitely off.
That sour note in the scent didn’t have that kind of effect.
Was it just that this was her preference?
Did she like this brokenness, this mess?
Or was it that, even in these circumstances, her mind couldn’t suppress her body’s instincts?
No, definitely not—she was a normal person.
Normal people only feel pity for those who are miserable, not joy.
There’s no reason that, after all she’d been through, she’d still have the mood to like the accomplice who had wronged her.
She wasn’t that far gone into Stockholm Syndrome.
Enjoying watching others fall apart—only a lunatic like Moliyar would like that.
Thinking this, Flora decided to struggle.
She knew she couldn’t let this go on; at the very least, she had to figure out what Elka wanted, or else her wild speculations would lead to disastrous consequences.
“Elka, wake up, don’t hold me like this.”
“……”
Her soft urging got no response at all from the elf.
Elka didn’t move in the slightest, as if she’d drowned in her own dreams.
“Dead to the world? You haven’t slept for days, have you? Is it that bad…”
Feeling a headache coming on, Flora immediately used healing magic on the elf.
Though it couldn’t restore energy, through the spell, Flora confirmed Elka really was in a state of exhaustion and agitation after several days without proper rest.
She could even sense, from Elka’s current state, a shadow of her own feelings back when she first realized she wanted to die but couldn’t—something no act could imitate.
[Enough. I’m sick of these boring tricks.]
Flora wasn’t moved.
In her eyes, all these repeated actions were just ways to pressure her, slowly taming her bit by bit.
She came up with a new plan.
“Elka, you smell awful! Let go of me—how can you be this smelly?”
Even if Elka had used some kind of empathy magic to force herself into this state, it definitely took days to get this disheveled—her hair was a mess, she clearly hadn’t bathed.
During their past interactions, everything was an act, no doubt.
But some things about daily life couldn’t be faked.
For instance, this elf, who had a habit of bathing at least once a day, would never tolerate being called dirty.
“Wuu wuu wuu wuu, you’re disgusted with me!”
Sure enough, as soon as she finished speaking, the previously peaceful Elka snapped her eyes open, looking at her with utter grievance.
“I don’t care, I don’t care!”
She began to throw a tantrum, completely unreasonable.
The long-lived races’ slow maturation meant they often acted like children—finally, that bratty side showed itself to Flora.
“What are you trying to do? After not seeing me for days, you thought not bathing would be a ‘surprise’ for me? Elka, are you… an idiot or something?”
Flora tried to sound gentle, so as not to let on that she’d realized this woman’s earlier performance was all a sham, but Elka only hugged her tighter.
“If I don’t do this, you won’t pay any attention to me! Smell me properly—see if I really smell bad!”
“What are you doing! I… I just didn’t want to drag you into this. In my heart, you’re so much better than those two. I wanted to treat you as my friend.”
Flora, never good at lying, managed to say these insincere words without the slightest crack in her expression.
“I don’t believe you… You think you’re so clean? I’ll dirty you up, see if you still dare to call me smelly!”
“Wait, stop pulling at my clothes—what are you grabbing my foot for? Don’t… wuu… Why are you doing this?”
Too perverted.
Flora was completely freaked out by the elf’s drastic change in behavior.
This definitely wasn’t acting—Elka must’ve been hit with some sort of confusion magic to do something like this.
“Seems you really are cleaner than me.”
Realizing what she’d done, Elka self-consciously wiped her mouth.
Just now, all she could think about was “Flora.”
Some kind of inexplicable urgency made her dive under the covers to grab the little girl’s foot and “bite” it, only to realize after the fact that she’d gone too far.
It didn’t feel bad, though.
Maybe this humiliating herself lessened some kind of guilt.
Seeing Flora’s complicated expression, Elka started offering a formulaic apology.
“I overdid it, I’m sorry. I thought my little tricks could fool them, but it turns out Moliyar was more thorough than I’d imagined.Lost trust can’t be regained, I know that. These days, she also wanted me to come comfort you, make you more obedient, get you to learn to act like a noble. But I didn’t dare, and I didn’t want to, so I locked myself in my room…”
Her voice weakened.
With the guilt-laced calculations coming out, even Elka herself couldn’t tell if she was acting anymore.
It was like she really meant it.
“So now you’re just going to act unreasonable to get me to forgive you? Elka, I wasn’t planning to run away that day anyway. I’m not stupid—there’s no way I’d think Moliyar would just let me go.”
“So you’re saying I’m an idiot?”
“Didn’t I just call you an idiot?”
Lying—it really is a skill you learn as soon as you try it.
And once you tell the first lie, you have to keep lying to cover it up.
Flora was sure the smile on her face must look terribly fake.
But seeing the hope in Elka’s eyes, for some reason, she felt genuinely happy.
Had this woman felt the same as she did now, back when she used to trick her?
“You’ve changed, Fros, you’re so mean.”
Elka let go, only to hold onto Flora’s hand instead.
“But it’s not bad—much more interesting. Let me sleep here for a while. I really haven’t slept well in days—just for a bit.”
This time, having gotten the reaction she wanted, Elka truly fell asleep.
Flora no longer planned to push her away.
Maybe she really should thank Elka for helping her master the art of lying before the banquet arrived.
And she’d gained some new insight: Elka, toward her as a magical creation, must also feel a kind of instinctive attachment, to act like this.
It had nothing to do with feelings.
[All the better.]
With this thought, Flora drifted off to sleep as well.