Merlin averted Ophelia’s gaze, muttering under her breath.
“There’s no rule that says girls have to wear skirts…”
Ophelia’s voice by Merlin’s ear rose a few notches, tinged with resignation.
“See? That’s exactly where the trouble is! If I’d picked you up at six years old, you’d wear whatever I put on you, call me whatever I ask, and do as you’re told. Things wouldn’t be so complicated now, would they?”
“Back then… I was a boy too.”
Ophelia let out a sigh.
“It’s such a hassle… Hold you to a princess’s standards, and it’s either resistance or complaining I’m a bother. What else is a mother to do? I know it’s hard for you to adapt, but you have to at least look the part of a girl.”
“I’ll do my best…”
“What choice do you have but to try? You’ll have to wear a skirt to school tomorrow—don’t think you’ll get away with pants.”
Ophelia seized the moment, taking out the girls’ school uniform, unpacking each piece and laying them out on the velvet-covered bed.
“I’ve double-checked the size, but just to be safe, you should try it on.”
Actually, there were options with skirts down to the knees, but Ophelia had deliberately chosen the shortest one.
She watched Merlin’s face turn abruptly pale, and sighed softly in her heart.
Time to give her a harsh dose—this dawdling can’t go on.
If it’s not this, then it’s that—what does she want, really?
Besides, nearly all the girls at this academy pick the shortest style; short skirts are the trend. Merlin will never notice.
Merlin pinched the skirt between her fingers, frowning.
“This short?”
“Yes, just this short.”
“Won’t it be indecent?”
“If you take smaller steps, you’ll be fine. Isn’t that something you need to learn?”
“What’s the point of wearing this?”
“It’s cute, it’s pretty. Tell me, do you think girls look cuter in skirts or in pants? Now that it’s your turn, you’re being a hypocrite?”
“Go on, put it on. Are you going to school tomorrow or not?”
Merlin sighed.
“Fine, I get it…”
Merlin changed into the clothes, gazing complicatedly at her reflection in the Zelion girls’ uniform, while Ophelia placed a satisfied hand on her shoulder.
Mother and daughter both stared at the elf in the mirror.
On top, a fine, pure white shirt, expertly tailored to fit the figure, tracing out the delicate lines of a young girl’s shoulders and back.
The neckline was a modified sailor collar, edged with a delicate gilded trim that shimmered as the light caught it. A dark blue ribbon was tied at the collar, softly draping with Merlin’s slightest movement.
The sleeves, slightly loose, tapered elegantly at the wrists into lantern cuffs, each fastened with an exquisite metal button.
A high-waisted black skirt hugged the slender curve of the girl’s waist, creating a stark contrast with the soft white above. At the waist, a slim gold chain and tassel swayed gently with her breath.
The skirt’s outer layer matched the deep color of the waist cincher, pleated and neat, while the inside was a profusion of snowy white lining, blooming in layers like petals.
The length of the skirt was just right, airy and light, brimming with youthful charm, yet with a hint of maturity. “That’s it… Even smaller steps, knees together. Hmm… You pass, I suppose. Tomorrow, you’ll at least look the part of a princess when you leave.”
“All right…”
The setting sun dipped low; today’s practice was finally over.
“I’m exhausted—just let the world end.”
Wearing the new clothes Ophelia had bought for her overnight, Merlin collapsed onto the plush velvet bed like a jellyfish washed ashore.
Her blue gradient hair was a wild tangle across the pillow, face buried deep, muffled complaints seeping out.
“Ugh~”
Merlin was drenched in sweat; so was Ophelia.
For once, even Ophelia looked weary, fine beads of sweat at her brow.
She gazed at the “jellyfish” sprawled on the bed, feelings mixed.
Merlin was sharp, even among elves, physically outstanding.
But years of thinking like a boy kept holding her back, and now she’d gained the quirks of a girl on top of that.
Just persuading her to act ladylike was a battle; she thought it was humiliating.
Ophelia had worn herself out just coaxing her to behave.
Getting her to accept “how a girl should sit, stand, move, speak, her tone and expressions”—that had almost drained Ophelia’s patience for the whole day.
“Want to look in the mirror? Ask any random passerby and they’ll say the elf in front of them is a girl, won’t they?”
“If you look that cute, in such a cute skirt, but act all rough and careless—that’s what’s really embarrassing.”
“You’re a princess, remember? Please, for your mother’s sake, mind your image, will you?”
“You look adorable in a skirt, really. You’re worried someone will laugh and call you a crossdressing boy? If a boy was this pretty, no one would laugh at him.”
It wasn’t without reason that Merlin was sulking—she still had memories of her past life, living as a boy for eighteen years. After coming to this world, she’d also lived as a boy for fifteen years.
And now, suddenly she was told her soul had always been that of a girl? That she was the princess of the elves?
After always raising Merlin with a hands-off attitude, Ophelia had begun to strictly demand princess-like behavior. How was Merlin supposed to take that?
But… it seemed Ophelia’s harsh tactics had worked, at least a little.
Since noon, Merlin hadn’t clamored to change out of the clothes, and kept sneaking glances down at her outfit.
Beneath the skirt, those pale, slender legs stretching out. Occasionally, catching her own reflection in the mirror, her lips would even curl up unconsciously.
After all, Meilinlia really was quite cute now.
Ophelia noticed every little detail.
As expected, adapting was only a matter of time—her soul was a girl’s after all, she’d get used to it.
Even now, sprawled exhausted on the bed, Merlin’s legs were subconsciously pressed together—a bit ladylike, wasn’t it?
No need to point it out, or she’d get fussy again.
Ophelia walked to the other side of the bed and lay down as well, propping her head on her arm, turning to gaze gently at the blue-haired elf beside her, her eyes soft as moonlight.
“What is it?”
Ophelia’s eyes at that moment shone so tenderly, like feathers brushing the heart.
Merlin felt a strange flutter inside, a bit of bashfulness mixed in, making her instinctively look away, shy.
Seeing Merlin shyly avert her gaze, Ophelia didn’t press further. Maybe this, too, was a shock tactic to help her adapt.
Sometimes, that’s the way it is between girls.
“What’s wrong? You can rest, but your mother can’t?”
“I just didn’t expect you to get so close.”
For the three years after being adopted, as mother and son, Ophelia had always given Merlin free rein—they’d never been this physically close.
“So what if mother and daughter are close? I can get even closer.”
With that, Ophelia wrapped an arm around Merlin’s back and, with a gentle squeeze, drew the warm little elf into her embrace, rubbing her chin lightly on Merlin’s head.
Ophelia’s scent slowly surrounded her—so this is what a mother smells like?
“Merlin.”
“I’m here.”
“Do you remember the way I touched you yesterday?”
Merlin recalled the sensation of souls meeting directly.
“Yes.”
“That’s… only for family or a partner. Even then, not all families do it—it’s risky. Don’t let other elves take advantage, you’re still a beginner after all.”
“Then why did you have to use that method to confirm?”
“Because it’s the simplest, most direct way. It lets me check your physical state, too.”
“I don’t mind, because I know you’d never hurt me, Mom.”
“Turning into a girl has made you sweeter-tongued, you know.”