It was late at night.
Flora huddled under her covers, hugging her knees with a bored and exhausted look in her eyes.
Suddenly, the faint sound of a door opening reached her ears.
*Creak.*
The sound was very light, careful not to be intrusive, yet it struck a steady beat against her heart.
Flora panicked for a moment because she knew there was only one person who would enter her room without knocking.
It was Ilya.
The door was pushed open just a crack, and a familiar silver aura drifted inside.
Ilya walked in, her movements so quiet it seemed as if she were afraid of waking something.
She was wearing a relatively simple dress, and the tips of her hair were slightly scattered by the night breeze. She looked less intimidating than she did during the day, appearing more quiet and weary.
“Not asleep yet?” Her voice was low and soft as a feather. “I’ve come to keep you company for a bit.”
Flora tensed up the moment she heard Ilya say she wanted to stay.
“I don’t need you to. You should leave.”
But Ilya didn’t reply, nor did she leave. She walked over to the side of the bed and sat down with a steady, calm demeanor.
“I won’t stay long,” Ilya said softly, her expression gentle. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, then I’ll go.”
Flora turned her head away. “… I really don’t need you to coax me.”
“Mhm, I know,” Ilya replied softly. “But you need to sleep soundly tonight.”
Flora countered, “I can sleep right now.”
“Then I’ll sit here and wait until I see you fall asleep.”
Ilya spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Flora sputtered, “You… you don’t need to watch me sleep!”
“Mhm.”
“Then I’ll just sit here and not look at you.”
Flora opened her mouth to argue but found herself unable to say a single word.
‘Does she really have to watch me sleep? And why is Ilya so terrifying? I can never win an argument with her.’
She turned her head, burying her face into the blanket and only exposing a small section of the tips of her ears. If one looked closely, they could see a faint hint of red on them.
Ilya watched her quietly for a few seconds before gently raising her hand to brush aside a lock of white hair that was scattered near the pillow.
The movement was slow and tender.
Flora’s entire body jolted as she said in a panicked voice, “What… what are you doing!”
“Moving your hair. This way, you won’t lie on it while you sleep.”
Flora bit her lip.
She really wanted to say, ‘I’m not a child,’ but she knew that saying it would only make her seem even more like one.
Ilya reached out again and lightly patted the top of her head.
“…!!!”
Flora’s entire body froze into a stiff line.
“What… what are you doing! Don’t… don’t touch my head!!”
However, her panicked tone and tense physical reaction only made Flora look adorable.
“Sorry,” Ilya said, her voice as gentle as a pool of water. “I just saw you frowning… I wanted you to relax a little.”
“I… I wasn’t frowning!”
“Then perhaps you were angry in your dreams just now.”
Flora was so angry she wanted to jump up, but hindered by her physical weakness, she could only huddle in her blankets and glare.
Ilya seemed completely unaffected, maintaining her posture of ‘quietly guarding someone while they sleep.’
“You’ve been through a lot these past few days, and your mind is in turmoil. It’s easy for you to sleep fitfully at night, so I wanted to come and stay with you.”
Flora turned her back to her and said gloomily, “But I’m not in turmoil.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“You just stuttered three times while speaking. It’s a very calm sign.”
Ilya chuckled softly, like a night breeze slipping through a crack in the window.
She was quiet for a few seconds before asking, “Flora, did you like listening to stories when you were little?”
Flora frowned. “…… why are you asking that all of a sudden?”
“Because your current appearance… looks a lot like someone who needs a story.”
“I don’t need one.”
“Then I’ll tell it to myself.”
Ilya adjusted her sitting position. “Go to sleep if you want. I won’t disturb you.”
Flora: “…”
What kind of logic did this woman have? No matter what was said, she could always circle back.
But she didn’t refuse again.
She didn’t say another word.
She simply buried her head deeper into the pillow, her ears as red as if they had been roasted.
Ilya began her narration.
Her voice was low, gentle, and so soft it felt as if she were telling it to the night itself.
“A long, long time ago, there was a white young dragon who couldn’t fight or fly. What she loved doing most every day was staying by her mother’s side and pestering her…”
The story was simple, perhaps even improvised on the spot, but there was a rhythm in Ilya’s voice that made one settle down unconsciously.
It was as if it possessed mana.
At first, Flora tried to resist being drawn into it. But before long, her breathing began to slow.
Her shoulders were no longer tense, and her feet under the covers stopped huddling together.
It felt like a lost child had found her way home, finally finding her parents and finally feeling the warmth that allowed her to relax.
Halfway through the story, Ilya stopped and looked at Flora’s face.
Flora’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, and her breathing was long and steady.
Clearly, Flora had fallen asleep. She was sleeping peacefully and looked very well-behaved.
Ilya reached out and gently pulled up the corner of the blanket that had slipped down.
Then, her fingertips landed on the top of Flora’s head, giving it a soft pat.
Just one pat, and then she let go.
She whispered, “Goodnight, Flora.”
There was a hint of restraint in that voice, a hint of heartache… and a hint of loneliness that no one else would ever see.
She stood up and quietly walked toward the door.
Before stepping out, she looked back at the small figure sleeping on the bed.
In that moment, a crack appeared in the pain she had kept buried in her heart.
“…… As long as you are safe.”
She gently closed the door.
Silence returned to the room.
All that remained was Flora’s rhythmic breathing on the pillow, a hint of peace hidden in the side of her face… a peace that even she didn’t know existed.
***
The days of grounding were longer than Flora had imagined… and much more boring.
It was extreme boredom. There was no training, no commotion from the guards, no conflicts, and no chance to sneak out.
Being confined to the square territory of her room made even the concept of ‘escaping’ feel like it was growing mold in the air.
During the day, she mostly spent her time huddled on the soft couch, tossing and turning while staring blankly at the glowing star patterns on the ceiling.
She stared at them until she began to wonder if she would be sucked into the light herself.
Occasionally, Ilya would come to stay with her. That kind of company was part supervision to ensure Flora didn’t run around, but it was also filled with a ‘motherly’ tenderness.
She would play with Flora, sometimes drawing together. But strangely, Ilya would sometimes bring many dresses and have Flora try them on one by one.
Flora had no choice but to change into them under Ilya’s forceful demands, standing before her like a doll.
For Flora, this was pure torture! The idea of being a dress-up doll was too terrifying!
Seeing those magnificent dresses being put on and taken off her body while she could do nothing but listen to them being called ‘pretty’ was truly shameful.
Moreover, she had to stand for so long that her legs felt like jelly.
Occasionally, Flora and Ilya’s eyes would suddenly meet, and she would immediately turn her head away. Ilya would then give a faint smile.
However, she had to admit that these clothes were quite comfortable. The soft fabrics allowed her to relax slightly, and the exhaustion from the long dress-up sessions would be somewhat relieved.
‘This is definitely a method Ilya is using to lure me into depravity. I don’t want to continue this.’
‘But the clothes really are comfortable, and Ilya’s hands are so warm…’
‘No, no, what am I thinking?’
So, when Ilya stayed in the room once to read official documents, Flora began to pray that Ilya wouldn’t bring any more clothes the next time she came!
And so, life continued. But a few days later, she realized that she was truly, truly starting to get used to having someone in the room.
Especially at night.
When she was sleeping, if the room was too quiet, she would suddenly snap her eyes open instead. Her ears would quickly prick up, searching for a certain breathing rhythm.
‘Darn it… have I already been spoiled by her?’
Flora pulled the covers up and buried her face in them.
She refused to acknowledge this terrifying development.
***
Several more days passed.
Until one morning.
The morning light pushed gently through the gaps in the curtains, making the room feel warm and cozy.
Flora had just woken from her slumber and was still rubbing her eyes when a soft knock came from the door.
It wasn’t right; it wasn’t Lena. This knocking was too steady.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“Flora, may I come in?”
It was Ilya.
Flora quickly sat up straight and cleared her throat to make herself sound less like she had just woken up. “… Come in.”