Ilyas nervously clutched the hem of her skirt, gathered her courage, and whispered, “Proprietress, could… could you tell me? Why does everyone look at Celia so strangely? Is she… is there something special about her?”
The proprietress’s smile deepened.
She looked up and down at Ilyas’s pure and beautiful but obviously naive face, shook her head, and let out a soft sigh.
“You pure little thing… it seems she really… hasn’t done anything to you.”
She clicked her tongue softly, as if confirming an unbelievable fact.
“Tsk, this really is… a rare sight.”
She bent down, rummaged under the counter for a moment, and pulled out an old book wrapped in plain brown parchment with no visible title.
She quickly shoved it into Ilyas’s hands.
“Read this on your own when it’s quiet. You’ll understand once you’ve finished… about Dark Elves, why they’re special, and why so many people look at your Celia that way.”
The proprietress’s voice dropped even lower, carrying a meaningful tone of experience.
“Perhaps… this will also help you think about how to get along with her in the future.”
Ilyas took the book, feeling it was oddly hot to the touch.
She hurriedly thanked the woman, clutched the book tightly to her chest, and hid it carefully under her cloak.
Her heart racing, she turned and left the lobby.
Outside, the morning air was chilly.
She had only walked a few steps from the inn when she saw Celia returning, leading two healthy-looking horses.
The morning light gilded her purple skin in pale gold and made the expression on her face seem more unnatural than usual.
Seeing Ilyas standing at the entrance, Celia handed over the reins of one of the sturdy brown horses.
“Let’s go. We have to hurry.”
Ilyas looked at the tall horse in front of her, then down at the book in her arms.
She hesitated for a moment before speaking softly.
“Celia… I-I don’t know how to ride.”
She looked up with a hint of embarrassment.
“In the past… I always stayed in carriages. I’ve never ridden a horse on my own.”
Celia froze.
She looked at the girl who only reached her chest, then back at the two horses — she really hadn’t considered this possibility.
After a moment of silence, she said, “Wait here for me.”
Before Ilyas could answer, Celia turned with the two horses and walked quickly back toward the nearby market.
Her figure soon blended into the sparse morning crowd.
A short while later, Celia returned leading a significantly taller and stronger black stallion.
The saddle had been replaced with a wider, more comfortable model, and the saddlebags on both sides had been rearranged.
“You returned the others?”
Ilyas asked softly.
“Yes, I swapped for one more suitable,” Celia replied briefly.
Her eyes remained on the saddle, seemingly checking its stability.
She led the horse to a low stone block by the roadside and patted its neck.
The black horse stopped obediently.
Celia turned to Ilyas, her movements slightly stiff.
“You… sit in front.”
Ilyas blinked.
Celia reached out to help her.
Using the height of the stone block, Ilyas clumsily climbed onto the horse’s back, sitting sideways on the front of the wide saddle.
No sooner had she settled than she felt Celia vault up behind her.
They were too close; their bodies were almost pressed together.
To control the reins, Celia’s arms circled both sides of Ilyas’s body, creating a posture that was nearly an embrace.
Ilyas could feel Celia’s warm breath brushing against her ear, and she could feel — very clearly — the tension in the body behind her.
Celia’s breathing was light, but the rhythm was noticeably unnatural.
Ilyas could even hear her swallowing softly.
“Sit tight,” Celia’s voice came from behind her ear, deeper than usual.
“You can hold on here.”
She pointed to the handle at the front of the saddle.
Ilyas nodded and held on with both hands.
This position forced her to lean back slightly, pressing her almost completely into Celia’s embrace.
She could feel Celia’s body jerk the moment she leaned back.
The arms surrounding her tightened for a split second before Celia forced herself to relax.
“Sorry…”
Ilyas whispered.
“It’s fine,” Celia answered so quickly it was almost a blurting out.
She cleared her throat and pulled the reins.
“Let’s go.”
As they rode forward, Ilyas carefully tucked the book into the deepest part of the luggage.
She stole a glance at Celia’s elegant profile, her curiosity piqued by the mysteries of the Dark Elves.
They continued along the trade route until dusk.
At a bend in the road ahead, a sudden clamor arose — heavy footsteps, the rumbling of wheels, and high-pitched laughter.
Celia pulled the horse to a stop almost immediately, her brow furrowed as she listened intently.
Sitting in front of her, Ilyas also looked toward the rising dust ahead with some unease.
Soon, a group appeared in their field of vision.
Celia’s expression became subtle the moment she recognized them.
“This is trouble…”
However, it was already too late to avoid them.
The group of Beastmen, overflowing with vibrant energy, had clearly noticed the two lone travelers on the road, especially Celia’s iconic Dark Elf features.
“Look who it is!”
A cheerful, loud female voice rang out from the front.
The leader — an exceptionally tall and athletic tiger-girl with a long orange-and-black tail — locked onto Celia instantly, a brilliant smile spreading across her face.
“Celia? Isn’t this little Celia!”
She shouted, her voice carrying far across the open fields.
Before her words even faded, she nudged her mount — a powerful creature resembling a saber-toothed tiger — and approached them.
Behind her, the eyes of the entire Beastman group followed with curiosity and warmth.
“Oh, did you run into someone you know, Celia?”
Ilyas whispered.
Celia nodded slightly, then nudged the horse’s flanks to head toward the approaching tiger-girl.
The two parties stopped in the middle of the road.
“Sister Traka, it’s been a long time.”
Traka smiled brightly and leaped nimbly from her mount, walking a few steps to the front of Celia’s horse.
She looked up at Celia with undisguised surprise.
“It really is little Celia! I didn’t expect to run into you here. Though I remember…”
She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to recall.
“Phyllis specifically mentioned before I set out this time that you were having your coming-of-age ceremony this year. She was quite happy that the little one was finally going to participate in the celebration, and she told me to keep an eye out this time for any good girls who might catch your eye.”
Her voice was booming.
She wasn’t just speaking to Celia; she seemed to be explaining things to the curious Beastman girls watching from behind.
Instantly, several well-meaning chuckles and interested whispers rippled through the group.
It seemed they all knew there was such a unique individual among the Dark Elves.
Celia let out a nearly imperceptible sigh.
“Sister Traka, I have something to take care of, so I won’t be participating this year.”
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