Chapter 119: I’m Tired

After that, Xueli sat for a while. When her back got tired, she lay down and slept. When she woke up, she stared at the ceiling.

When lying down got tiring, she sat up again, or walked around the floor, or looked outside the window.

In the afternoon, at some point, there was another knock on the door.

This time it wasn’t a maid. It was Lady Weila.

Xueli recognized those footsteps. Very steady, with decades of practiced composure and rigidity.

“Your Highness.”

The voice came through the door, serious and restrained, but you could hear something suppressed in it.

“I need to speak with you.”

Xueli didn’t move.

“I know you’re listening.” Lady Weila paused, her tone growing heavier.

“I’m sorry about last night. But you are a princess, and someone has to say these things. You’ve locked yourself away today, refused to see anyone, refused to handle affairs.”

“Some of the elders have already started asking. Have you thought about how much impact this will have if you keep this up?”

Xueli still didn’t move.

“Your Highness, I hope you’ll come out. Even if it’s just to handle one or two matters, see one or two people, let everyone know you’re okay. After that, you can continue resting. But you can’t just disappear completely. Do you understand?”

It went quiet outside the door.

Lady Weila waited.

Xueli leaned against the headboard, looking down at her hands, at the slight bulge in the blanket made by her slender legs, at the bat doll lying beside her.

Those words drilled into her ears one by one, but something seemed to block them from reaching her mind.

She spoke.

Her voice was very light, but cold as ice.

“Not going out.”

There was a moment of silence outside the door.

There wasn’t a trace of warmth in Xueli’s voice.

“Can’t hear me? I’m not handling anything, not seeing anyone, not doing anything.”

“Your Highness, you—”

“I said, not going out.”

Xueli cut her off.

Every word was like being peeled out of a layer of ice, devoid of any warmth.

“Can’t hear me? I’m not handling anything, not seeing anyone, not doing anything.”

“But Your Highness, you are a princess, those responsibilities—”

“Responsibilities?”

The corners of Xueli’s mouth twitched into a stiff, absurd smile.

“How was I doing before? Last night you said I was indulging in pleasures and losing my ambition, that I was letting everyone down, that I didn’t have the right to be tired. Today you’re talking about responsibilities. Weila, what do you want me to do?”

Silence outside the door.

“I can’t do it.”

Xueli said, her tone as calm as stating a fact, calm enough to send chills.

“I’m tired. I don’t have the strength to handle those things, to see those people, to play the role of the Princess Xueli you all want most. So I’m not going. Do you hear me? I’m not going!”

“Your Highness…”

Lady Weila’s voice trembled with hesitation.

“Don’t call me anymore.”

Lady Weila didn’t leave.

Her footsteps were still there, her breathing still there, as if she was struggling to say something else.

Then, another set of footsteps sounded.

Very light, very steady, different from everyone.

The breathing outside the door changed instantly.

Lady Weila’s voice rose, with a hint of panic:

“Your Majesty, she also…”

“I know.”

Lias’s voice was as calm as a windless lake.

“You may withdraw.”

Silence.

Then footsteps fading away.

Lady Weila left.

There should only be one person left outside the door.

Xueli’s fingertips curled slightly.

She still kept her head down, but now she was hugging the doll, very tightly.

Lias didn’t speak.

She just stood outside that door, silent for a long time.

Xueli didn’t speak either.

Time flowed in the silence, perhaps over ten minutes.

Finally, Lias spoke.

Her voice was very calm, betraying no emotion.

But precisely because it was so calm, it felt suffocating and complicated.

“Xueli.”

Xueli didn’t answer.

“The door,” Lias said flatly, “you sealed it yourself.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“…Yeah.”

Lias fell silent again.

Xueli could imagine the way she looked standing outside the door.

Straight spine, composed posture, a face that was unreadable, like a queen’s.

But now, through that door, she suddenly felt that maybe her mother wasn’t as composed as she appeared.

“Don’t want to come out?” Lias asked.

Xueli half-closed her eyes, looking at the doll’s red eyes.

Her gaze seemed a little soft, but her lips were pressed slightly together.

Two pairs of red eyes reflected each other, gently swaying in the dim room.

It was quiet outside the door again for a long time.

“…I don’t want to.”

Xueli was startled.

“Then stay there,” Lias said.

“If you don’t want to come out, then stay there.”

Lias repeated, her voice very faint, very light, like a sigh, or something else.

“I’ll have someone handle those matters. You don’t need to worry about them.”

Xueli opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

“But,” Lias paused, “you need to eat. Drink water. Take care of yourself.”

The last three words, she said very slowly, very softly, as if she wasn’t used to saying such things.

Xueli’s eyelashes fluttered.

She buried her face in the doll, taking a deep breath.

That faint, almost imperceptible scent of Flora.

After a long time, she softly responded.

“…Yeah.”

***

Outside the door, Lias seemed to let out a soft sigh.

Footsteps sounded, slowly fading away.

Xueli was left alone in the room again.

She still leaned against the headboard, holding the doll.

After Lias’s footsteps disappeared down the corridor, Xueli remained leaning against the headboard for a long time.

When her body grew stiff, she finally moved, as if meaning to get out of bed.

But for some reason, when she stood up, her legs gave way.

Fortunately, she reacted in time and braced herself on the edge of the bed, or she would have fallen.

Xueli used her arms to shift her body to the edge of the bed, her feet on the ground.

She wobbled a bit as she walked to the table by the window.

On the table were a few unread books and a lamp that had long gone out.

She reached out and pushed them aside, clearing a small space.

Then she walked back to the bed and picked up the bat doll.

Her movements were very gentle.

As if holding something fragile.

The two red eyes glowed faintly, as if looking at her, or just staring into space.

The gray fluff looked softer in the dim light.

She returned to the table and placed the doll on it, right by her right hand.

Xueli sat down, elbow resting on the table, tilting her head to look at the doll.

The doll also “looked” out the window.

Outside the window was the eternal twilight of the Vampire territory.

The direction they were facing was northeast.

If she kept going that way, she didn’t know where she would end up.

She only knew that direction was also the direction in which Flora’s carriage disappeared when she left.

Xueli gently rested her cheek on her folded arms, tilting her head, gazing in that direction together with the doll beside her.

“Tell me,” she said softly, “what are we looking at?”

The doll naturally didn’t answer.

It just sat there quietly, its mouth forever curved in that sincere arc, its eyes forever glowing with those two specks of light.

Xueli didn’t speak anymore.

She just lay on the table like that, together with her silent companion, staring out the window at that direction that perhaps held nothing, yet perhaps held everything.

Soon, she closed her eyes.

Next to her was still warm.

She buried her face a little deeper.

‘Then I’ll just stay like this for now.’