Evelyn’s slender fingers pressed against Erica’s chest.
Her body pressed even closer from behind, her head lifting and stretching forward, with her left cheek pressed against the right side of Erica’s face as she breathed a sweet, cloying breath, “Answer me, hmm?”
“E-Evelyn, M-Mistress, how can two women verify something like that? Or… ha… stop joking.”
She could clearly feel the softness pressing against her from behind, and the rich scent of Evelyn’s body instantly filled her nose, leaving Erica’s mind spinning in a dizzy haze.
“Thump, thump.”
Her heart pounded faster than ever before—whether from nervousness or anticipation, she couldn’t tell.
Erica couldn’t distinguish which it was.
Evelyn was never one to make physical contact with others easily. Even with maids or with Emile, it never went beyond a normal hug. Why then… Although she herself had once touched Evelyn while washing her, Evelyn had never taken the initiative to touch her.
After all, she was that proud queen. Someone of her stature would never willingly touch a servant of lower status.
“Your heart is beating so fast, Erica. Why is that?”
The Queen’s fingertips pressed against the thin vest covering the girl’s heart, feeling the rhythm beneath. Yet, before the breathless girl could reply, she continued on her own, “Is it because you care about me?”
Evelyn’s rough palm brushed over the girl’s navel.
“Erica, I’ve grown curious too—just what kind of person are you?”
At last, Erica suppressed the flutters in her heart, buried her face further into the pillow, and dodged a stray lock of black hair that tickled her nose.
“Miss Evelyn, why… why has it come to this?”
She felt like a deer trapped in a snare, helpless under the hunter Evelyn’s dominance. No matter which way she turned, she could not escape that embrace.
“Why so tense? Do you not like me being this close to you? Do you not like how close we are?”
Evelyn kept asking in a hot breath against the girl’s ear, and Erica had no idea what she truly meant, or if this was simply teasing as punishment for her secrecy.
The punishment was effective—she probably wouldn’t sleep tonight.
But Evelyn’s gentle whisper grew just a little sharp, “You don’t want to accept my closeness? Are you… pushing me away?”
No, that’s not it! Erica had to answer or Evelyn would start overthinking things.
“I…”
“Erica, do you want to run away from me? After hiding so much.”
Command and obedience.
Just like a master ordering a puppy to show its belly to prove loyalty, Erica had to answer this question to prove her loyalty to Evelyn.
“Why aren’t you answering? Don’t make me say it a fourth time.”
“It’s not like that, I am… your gardener, Mistress Evelyn.”
That was their relationship.
Evelyn always took or forced things from her; that was their connection—no resistance, no objections allowed.
But tonight felt different. Though hard to explain, it was different from before. Erica realized the ‘role’ she had always played might collapse here, so she felt she had to end this quickly.
“…Wise Mistress Evelyn, surely you have already confirmed my loyalty. Now, please let me go, Mistress Evelyn.”
Yet Evelyn’s grip did not loosen in the slightest. Her hand on Erica’s stomach pressed downward, as if trying to mold the girl into herself, while her hand on the chest slid up to the neck, gently squeezing.
Evelyn whispered softly into her ear, like damp mist brushing her cheek, “But I haven’t confirmed it myself yet.”
That hand gripped Erica’s chin and forcibly turned her face. When Erica saw the face suddenly magnified before her eyes, she shut them tightly in fright.
“Smooch.”
A soft sensation—Evelyn’s red lips brushed Erica’s trembling eyelid. The warmth calmed her panic, but she still dared not open her eyes. After the lips left, a voice spoke again, “Emile said this, too. She said the answer lies in your reaction.”
Fluttering her lashes, Erica opened her red eyes but averted her gaze to the side, “S-So, am I loyal then?”
“No…”
Erica’s heart almost stopped.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know.”
Erica nearly choked.
“Erica, we’ve known each other for almost a year. Now that I think about it, I actually know very little about you.” Evelyn seemed to return to her usual self. Her hand, still cupping Erica’s chin, ran up through her smooth black-purple hair, gently stroking the top of her head.
“Erica, answer my question honestly.”
“…What do I need to answer?”
“I’ve known you for a year, so I more or less know what kind of person you are, but I don’t know what kind of person you used to be. And as for you being a half-elf, I only learned that today.”
Not just you—even I only just found out.
“Erica, who are you? What about your parents?”
“I…”
Evelyn’s question was one Erica had always wondered about herself—the past of the ‘Erica’ character.
Surely there must have been something in her past that allowed her to survive this long and become the infamous ‘siren’ she was now, but there were no clear clues.
If there was any hint at all, it was the name: Erica Angelina.
“I was adopted by the Bishop of the Church of Light and Flame, so I got the surname Angelina.”
“Is that so?”
‘Angelina’ was a surname given by the Church of Light and Flame’s Bishops to orphans and illegitimate children—a name that marked them as orphans from birth.
Erica, a half-elf orphan. On this land rife with famine, refugees, fallen nobles, and orphans, such a background was hardly uncommon.
“Then, why were you sold to Emile as a slave?”
“That… I can only say, when I woke up, it was already like this… That’s really not a lie.”
Erica had no idea why she’d been locked in an iron cage. Just like always, she finished her homework, closed her eyes to sleep, and when she opened them again, she was a slave in this world. To survive, she hid her face and did whatever was necessary, and managed to live until now.
Just like in the novels—a ‘siren’ in every sense.
“Is there really going to be a rebellion? Uh, the Quarry Manager—yes, bring the Quarry Manager in for questioning!”
“If it turns out to be a lie, you’re dead.”
To prove her value, she told them the plot she remembered from the novel, including events about to unfold.
“The Quarry Manager is planning a rebellion—how did you know?”
“Um…”
And then it happened for real. Erica’s story seemed like a ‘prophecy.’ Emile found it interesting, and to show off, brought her to Evelyn. That led to this situation—that’s where it all started.
“So you mean, you can’t remember much of what happened before you became a slave?”
“Really… How could I dare lie to you?”
“Hmm… Looks like you’re not lying. Since you’ve told the truth, then—”
“Can I sleep properly now?”
“Now I’ll give you a reward.”
“Eh?”
A kiss—on the cheek.
What did that mean? Possession? A mark of ownership? A sign of favor?
“Good night, Erica.”
Wicked woman.
But can I say that it’s really uncomfortable to sleep in someone’s arms like this?
Erica pouted her lips. Who was she working so hard for anyway? Bathing her, laboring for her like a beast of burden, and still having her loyalty questioned every day?
Excuses! The wicked woman’s excuses!
But… feeling the warm breath on her neck from behind, Erica somehow felt at peace.
“Good night, Mistress Evelyn.”
‘Good night, wicked woman.’