Rosalia’s castle always carried an overwhelming, suffocating grandeur.
The buildings were far too tall, bringing an empty sense of loneliness; moonlight streamed through the narrow windows onto the corridor, casting a twisted and eerie air of mystery.
Liliya did not like this kind of architecture.
In her previous life, she used to yearn for such buildings, but that was more of a Lord Ye’s love of dragons—a fascination that crumbled once she actually lived here and realized none of it was as wonderful as she’d imagined.
Change.
This kind of oppressive feeling could warp a person’s mind.
She couldn’t imagine what would happen to herself if she had to live alone in such a building for a long time.
She would probably become especially paranoid or gloomy.
Even after stepping out of the castle into the garden—where one ought to feel at ease—Liliya still felt no different.
The garden showed clear signs of tending, but it wasn’t trimmed as neatly as those of other nobles. Instead, it maintained an almost conflicting sense of disorder and restraint.
Well-groomed hedges with strange shapes, statues and stone walls covered in green and purple vines so carefully maintained—it was as if these things had been captured and trapped by the garden itself.
A shiver ran down her spine.
But Liliya didn’t let her attention linger on these outside features for long.
Her focus remained on all the places where people might appear.
Her excessive anxiety drove her to a near state of Paranoia; the first time she saw that statue, she actually thought it was watching her, mocking her, demeaning her with cruel words until she felt utterly worthless.
Most boys cared a great deal about saving face.
Even though she could no longer be called a boy and had become far more delicate and pitiable than most girls, there was still a boy’s habit rooted deep in her heart, making the pressure almost unbearable.
Rosalia saw all of this.
Even now, though Liliya’s exterior was little more than a Living Doll—obeying only her commands, motionless and helpless without them, like a puppet with its strings cut—she could still see the trembling soul inside Liliya’s shell.
How delicious.
It was time to let her understand the price of defiance.
How could a pet ever hurt its master?
She had just been delighted that Liliya was willing to trim her own nails, and the next moment the girl dared to act against her master—how naughty.
Malicious thoughts began to rise in her heart.
She turned toward Liliya, but her gaze slid past her, settling on a spot behind.
The sudden movement made Liliya tense with a cold jolt.
“Wendy, you’ve been getting lax in cleaning the garden lately.”
What Rosalia said clearly had nothing to do with her, but just the act of speaking to someone else was enough to leave Liliya breathing rapidly.
She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, didn’t want to be discussed at will, and above all…
She didn’t want to be stared at with those disgusting eyes.
She still remembered how she looked when she chose the wrong outfit. The tight clothing constricted her, outlining her graceful figure; the filth and shame of that moment still lingered in her mind.
She had to admit, her body was now much too striking—so much so that people could look at her with muddy, impure eyes.
Wearing clothes like these now only amplified her filth and shame.
Her body trembled again.
Each tremor sent waves of emptiness and pain from her hollow chest, making it even harder to calm down.
Everything was under Rosalia’s control, morphing into exactly the effect she desired.
Excellent.
“Do you want to go back?”
Rosalia leaned in and spoke softly by Liliya’s side, tempting this former Human Pinnacle.
“Beg me. Call me Master, and I’ll take you back to the study.”
To Liliya, this was hardly better than being seen by a maid.
At the very least, the maid was a woman—less likely to look at her that way.
But to say such words, to take this first step, would only make her subsequent descent even faster.
Rosalia waited with endless patience.
She waited more than ten minutes, but Liliya still didn’t speak.
What a pity.
It seemed Liliya wasn’t quite so foolish after all.
Naturally, there was no one behind Liliya.
If there had been, Wendy would have answered Rosalia long ago.
What a pity—she hadn’t tricked Liliya.
She didn’t want anyone else to see Liliya like this, so she’d ordered all the castle’s maids to rest and not come out.
Even the head maid Wendy was no exception; right now, in the whole castle and garden, the only one who could see Liliya was Rosalia herself.
Still, if such tricks couldn’t change Liliya, she’d have to try something else.
Why couldn’t she just be obedient?
Though she thought these words with regret, her expression was that of a sickly smile.
Liliya, whose gaze never left Rosalia, felt a chill run down her spine again.
“Liliya, sit by my side.”
A perfectly ordinary command—Liliya could not resist and sat beside her.
Where they sat was directly facing Rosalia’s castle, and after Liliya took her seat, Rosalia spoke nonchalantly:
“Liliya, do you know? In order to maintain supplies here, every so often someone comes by to negotiate with Wendy about purchases.”
Her gaze fell on Liliya, on the delicate figure beneath the pink lace. Her hand slowly rested on Liliya’s pale thigh, stroking the light, floating hem of her skirt.
“And ‘every so often’ just happens to be today. That man is rather disgusting. The way he looks at my maids is always unbearable.”
She said nothing more.
She had given enough information; the rest, Liliya would understand for herself.
Naturally, such people would never be allowed into her castle, but magic was a wondrous thing. With Rosalia’s skill, it was nothing to set up an Illusion Spell over the garden to shield the castle.
Her hand had already lifted Liliya’s skirt, revealing more and more white skin, getting closer and closer to the base of her thigh.
The skirt was already short; even with Rosalia moving slowly on purpose, it would only take another two or three seconds to cross the line.
“Liliya, look toward the castle.”
All this time, Liliya had been staring at Rosalia; now, she was forced to turn her head and look at the castle.
A man in a leather coat stood on the third floor, eyes cast this way.
Though they were far apart, Liliya could feel his sticky gaze crawling over her body.
Disgusting. Nauseating.
Liliya’s pupils contracted.