Liang Rou took a small step forward, her gentle gaze falling on Villeres.
“But fear and doubt shouldn’t be reasons to refuse offering help. Especially when it’s obvious the other person needs it.”
“But, but… what if I’m lying to you? What if I really am dangerous?” Villeres pressed anxiously, not even sure what exactly she wanted to prove.
Liang Lai suddenly laughed softly, a hint of mischief in her smile as she even playfully winked.
“So, I also used a little ‘Technique,’ you see.”
“Tech… Technique?” Villeres grew even more confused.
“Mhm.” Liang Lai nodded, but she didn’t explain in detail what that “Technique” was—she simply smiled meaningfully.
After all, she had to be responsible for her own safety and that of the other children—there’s no way she could be completely defenseless.
Villeres’ heart gave a sudden jolt.
Could it be that Liang Lai had already noticed something—or maybe she’d even made some arrangements?
That Incense Burner?
Those Runes?
Could they be more than just Calming Spice? For a moment, a chill of fear swept over her, but strangely, she didn’t feel much anger at having been deceived.
Instead, there was a kind of… “Of course,” a sense of relief and even an absurd hint of reassurance.
So, she wasn’t a completely defenseless Saint Mother—her kindness had sharp edges, it was full of wisdom.
Liang Lai watched the shifting emotions on her face.
The smile gradually faded from her lips, replaced by a gentle seriousness.
“But, Villeres,” she said softly, her voice soothing and comforting, “this caution and these precautions exist so that I can trust and help with more peace of mind, not to shut everyone out.”
“I really don’t know your past, and I can’t be one hundred percent certain about your future. But what I see is who you are right now. You—a girl who gets scared, who has nightmares, who needs a bit of Calming Spice just to sleep.”
“I can’t just stand by and watch someone right in front of me, who needs help, fall into crisis or even lose their life, just because of risks that might exist in the future or haven’t even happened yet, can I? If I did that, how would I be any different from those who, afraid of being hurt, never dare to embrace a rose?”
Her gaze was clear and unwavering.
“Trust might bring risk, but always choosing suspicion and isolation could mean losing even more. Like… someone who might become Family.”
“Family…” Villeres unconsciously repeated the word. It felt as if her heart had been struck—sour and searing all at once.
Liang Lai reached out and gently patted her shoulder, a natural and warm gesture.
“All right, stop overthinking. Get some rest early and see if this spice helps. If you still can’t sleep, we’ll think of something else tomorrow.”
With that, she gave Villeres another smile and turned to leave the room.
The door closed softly.
Villeres stood where she was for a long time, motionless. The faint scent of Calming Spice lingered in the room, but the storm in her heart raged fiercer than ever before.
Liang Lai’s words had utterly dispelled her last thread of wishful thinking.
So, she knew everything, and had considered everything.
Her kindness wasn’t foolish, but a conscious, brave choice.
And that last sentence of hers…
“A person who might become Family.”
Villeres slowly walked over to the bed and looked at the Incense Burner emitting its peaceful fragrance.
For the first time, she didn’t feel disgust at being watched—on the contrary, there was a strange illusion of being carefully protected.
She had lost.
Completely and utterly.
Not to the Holy Court’s schemes or power, but to a kind of warmth and powerful kindness she had never truly understood, nor could she resist.
She sat down by the bed, her fingers curling unconsciously.
Task… Tribe… It all seemed to grow distant and blurry.
At that moment, the only thing filling her mind was Liang Lai’s gentle, all-seeing eyes, and the words:
“I can’t just give up on the possibility of embracing, just because I’m afraid.”
She sat alone on the edge of the bed.
The embers of Calming Spice had long since cooled, but her heart would not rest.
Liang Lai’s words—especially that sentence, “I can’t just give up on the possibility of embracing, just because I’m afraid,” echoed again and again in her empty heart.
“The possibility… of embracing…” she unconsciously murmured, her fingertips sinking into the soft bedding.
That night, she did not close her eyes.
Of course, it wasn’t because of the Darkspawn’s constitution, but because of the unprecedented turmoil within.
Liang Lai’s gentle eyes kept appearing whenever she closed her own.
There was no calculation or loathing in them, only an almost compassionate understanding and… invitation?
Something she had never dared to wish for—a thing called “trust”—had been placed before her so openly, even as the other party made it clear she was taking precautions.
This “clear-headed kindness” was far more striking than a defenseless Saint Mother stance; it acknowledged risk, yet still chose to give.
But what about her?
She had always been taking, always hiding, always scheming—she’d even used threats to bind the only one who might truly treat her as a Friend.
Motifiel’s tear-stained, messy face floated before her eyes once again, those clumsy yet sincere complaints—“You’re my only Friend,” “I don’t want to break things off,” “Can’t we be like before?”
Before… In the Darkspawn’s cold and harsh world, the days when two odd, often-overlooked individuals with bottom lines and sympathy warmed each other in mutual dependence… Was that Friendship? She had never questioned it.
Darkspawn don’t need Friends, only allies and enemies.
But then, what was that vague attachment in her heart, and that faint, subtle jealousy when she saw Motifiel doing well?
Daylight crept in, sunlight streaming through the window lattice, pooling on the cold floor.
Villeres sprang to her feet.
After a sleepless night her face was pale, but in those crimson eyes a resolute fire burned.
She couldn’t go on like this.
No matter what happens with the Task in the end—at least, at least she had to face Motifiel first.
She needed to confirm something.
Something that mattered deeply to her.
She found Motifiel crouching in a corner of the garden, idly drawing circles in the dirt with a small twig.
Morgana was nowhere to be seen, so Motifiel had to amuse herself out of boredom.
Sunlight spilled over her golden hair, making her look warm and bright, yet a gloomy aura clung to her, dragging down even her usually silly, upturned lips.
Villeres took a deep breath and walked over.
A shadow fell across her.
Motifiel looked up in confusion—when she saw it was Villeres, her eyes immediately went wide.
Instinctively, she tried to shrink away, and the twig in her hand tumbled to the ground.