“Perfect, lately I’ve developed an unusual… interest in you. How about the two of us…”
“Dekalorin! I’m warning you!” Movira’s voice revealed genuine alarm and anger; in her flustered state, she completely failed to see that the other was teasing her, feeling that the playful yet domineering look in her eyes was real!
“Warning me? You want to refuse?” Dekalorin’s smile became enchanting and full of pressure. “Can you do it? Here, I call the shots. Obediently follow my lead—it might be better for you!”
As she spoke, her face slowly pressed down, her lips gradually approaching Movira’s, those gleaming eyes magnifying infinitely before Movira.
Movira jerked her head aside, closing her eyes, her body and mind tensing up.
A long-forgotten, instinctive panic enveloped her—not from a disparity in strength, but from this situation completely beyond her control!
However, the anticipated contact didn’t happen; at the last moment, Dekalorin stopped.
She slowly straightened up, lowering the hand propped against the wall, and the suffocating magical pressure around them instantly receded.
“See.” Dekalorin’s voice returned to its usual tone, carrying a mocking edge. “This is the ‘Demon King’s’ way, not like you now, lost in your so-called ‘respect’ and ‘retreat,’ tormenting yourself!”
“What if she resists? What if she’s distant? If you’re convinced there’s still a place for you in her heart, then show your Demon King spirit and methods! Make yourself an unavoidable focus for her! Fill every corner of her vision with your presence!”
“You don’t understand anything!” Movira abruptly interrupted Dekalorin’s words, her voice suddenly rising in agitation.
“You think I haven’t tried?!” She stared fixedly at Dekalorin, venting the humiliation she had just endured along with it.
“Oh? Tell me about it.”
Dekalorin listened quietly as she finished, the smile on her face not only remaining but deepening, mixed with other emotions—like… ridicule.
“Movira, I’m absolutely certain now—you’re a complete idiot! You have immense power, yet no emotional intelligence or brains to match!”
She even shook her head lightly, letting out a chuckle as if hearing something absurd.
“You!” Movira erupted in anger again; being humiliated so bluntly would make anyone furious, let alone her, the Demon King.
“So this is what you understand as being domineering? The dominance I’m talking about—who told you to act like a stupid bull charging with brute force, wearing coercion on your face?!”
Dekalorin gave Movira no chance to counter, speeding up her words, her speech like sharp daggers.
“Is this dominance? This is the stupidest confinement! It only provokes the most instinctive resistance and disgust in anyone with self-respect! Your method is simply a disaster for her!”
Dekalorin took a deep breath, tearing Movira down completely.
“Your power, your authority, your charm—these are clearly the deadliest weapons, yet you only use them like clubs? What a waste!”
“You need to make her accustomed to your presence, infuse her world with your advantages…”
With that, she let out a long sigh, then picked up the tray behind her again and handed it to Movira. “Here, this is Seraphina’s lunch. She can’t eat too much… Tsk, what are you standing there dumbly for! Take it in!”
Movira stared blankly at the tray thrust into her hands; on it was a bowl of thick soup, beside which were a few golden-yellow breads emitting a wheaty aroma.
After handing it over, Dekalorin said no more, merely gesturing toward the door with her eyes before turning around, strolling to the window with her back to her, as if admiring the scenery outside.
The person holding the tray glanced at Dekalorin’s back, then turned to the tightly closed door, took a deep breath, and suppressed the chaotic thoughts in her mind.
Walking to the door, she freed one hand and gently knocked on the door panel with her knuckles.
Knock, knock knock.
The sound was light, carrying a hint of tentativeness.
In the room, Seraphina, who was dazedly looking out the window, was startled by the noise. “Come in.”
The door was pushed open, and Movira walked in with the tray; she deliberately softened her tense demeanor.
Seraphina’s figure had shifted from the chair to the bed.
“Dekalorin asked me to bring this.” Movira walked to the bedside, placing it on the small table. “She said you can’t eat too much… and you don’t like wasting, so… eat as much as you can, and the rest… I’ll handle.”
Seraphina looked at Movira with slight surprise, especially at the meal delivered by her own hands—this didn’t seem like something Movira would do.
In the Demon King’s castle, she always ordered maids for such tasks.
“Thanks, just leave it here.”
After completing this “order,” Movira didn’t leave; she just stood quietly by the bed, her gaze falling on Seraphina’s wrist still wrapped in bandages and her cheeks with only a hint of color.
She thought of what Dekalorin had said to her: “Make her accustomed to your presence.”
The silence spread in the air for only a few seconds before Movira broke it. “Mm, Lina… she’s advancing your policies well. She… is really excellent.”
This wasn’t exactly an interesting topic—even quite dry—but at least it wasn’t silence anymore.
Seraphina gave a light “mm” in response.
Movira took her reply in, also noticing her slightly trembling fingertips; it seemed even lifting a spoon was somewhat strenuous for her.
The motion to hold the soup for Seraphina paused, because Movira realized the other seemed a bit… resistant?
Movira slowly withdrew her hand; the impulse to do something had just risen but was suppressed again.
“Eat it while it’s hot…” In the end, she only added this dryly.
Seraphina looked up, glancing at Movira with some surprise.
She hadn’t insisted?
“I know… Dekalorin said doing it myself helps with my recovery.”
Seraphina responded softly, reaching out slowly to pick up the spoon; her movements were somewhat sluggish, but indeed autonomous.
And just outside the window, unnoticed by both, a figure fiercely punched the wall. “Movira, you’re really a… blockhead! I’m so mad! Really… all that talk for nothing!!”
In the room, to avoid pressuring Seraphina as much as possible, Movira took the initiative to move away from the bedside, shifting to sit at the desk, picking up a book there and reading it in a pretense.
But her mind wasn’t on it at all; from time to time, she would sneak a glance at Seraphina’s state, checking if there was anywhere she could help.