Allen petted her like a wild cat finally accepting affection, running his fingers slowly through her hair.
“Don’t cry, we’re alive, aren’t we?” he tried to sound calm and reassuring, “This is only the beginning, Marianne. We’ve got to get moving on our plan to win over Livia! And I’m telling you, if you don’t help me win Livia over, all this blood I lost will be for nothing!”
“…Idiot.”
Marianne muttered the insult quietly in his arms, but her voice softened.
Allen’s heartbeat thumped through the thin fabric, and Marianne suddenly realized that some of the blood flowing through his heart was now hers.
An indescribable, subtle feeling surged within her.
The blood she had given Allen was like an invisible, burning chain binding their lives together.
Their relationship went beyond master and servant, beyond enemies—it became a bond of fate intertwined by blood.
The realization sent shivers down her spine and made her heart pound wildly.
She lifted her head and looked at Allen’s face close before her, tears blurring her vision.
Sunlight traced the pale line of his jaw.
Those black eyes, always tinged with mockery or calculation, now appeared somewhat helpless and gentle through her tears.
Their proximity was so close she could feel his breath.
The distance between her and Livia von Stern was so vast, as if separated by a cold, endless starry river.
Did Livia still remember their promise?
What should she do?
“We’re destined to be entangled until death.”
Allen’s words echoed like a spell in her heart.
Yet, deep down, she found herself secretly yearning for that very promise to come true.
“Do you…really forgive me, young master?”
Marianne’s voice trembled, her gaze complicated as she stared at Allen, “I’m a bad woman who didn’t know gratitude, was ungrateful, and nearly tried to kill you…”
“Huh?”
Allen was momentarily stunned, then burst into laughter as if he’d just heard a joke.
He withdrew his hand from her hair and reached for her cheek, gently brushing away stray strands to restore her to the precise, neat maid she once was.
“What nonsense are you talking about, Marianne? We’re long past the stage of forgiveness between us.”
His fingers brushed her ear lightly, sending a faint electric thrill.
“You’re not a bad woman,” Allen said with absolute certainty, “You’re my maid, Livia von Stern’s childhood friend, a player favorite…uh…”
Suddenly realizing he’d said too much, Allen coughed loudly twice, awkwardly averting his eyes.
“Ahem! Ignore that last part! Anyway, we’re strategic partners now! Let’s work well together. I promise to help you win over Livia so you two can be together!”
Be together with Livia von Stern…
Those words stabbed Marianne’s heart like a needle.
She looked at Allen’s smug, confident expression, the excitement burning in his eyes purely for the sake of his “plan.”
The faint warmth and subtle feelings she’d just felt were instantly replaced by a more complex, sharper emotion.
Allen was completely immersed in his grand “yuri enterprise” blueprint, unaware of the subtle change in Marianne’s eyes.
The more he thought about it, the more flawless his plan seemed; the more he thought about it, the more he felt Livia would soon be in his grasp, and a wave of villainous pride swelled within him.
He couldn’t help but spread his arms wide, and under the bright sunlight of the plaza (though much was blocked by the municipal building), recited a line with dramatic flair: “Hotter than hope! Deeper than despair—that’s love!”
So philosophical!
So touching!
So fitting for a mastermind like him!
Allen was so moved by his own words that he seemed to envision Livia and Marianne living happily ever after with his help, showering him with gratitude (?).
A true villain’s mind is always fixated on the protagonist, like Lex Luthor with Superman, or the Joker with Batman.
Undoubtedly, villains’ obsession with heroes is love!
He knew Livia inside and out.
He even knew her favorite lingerie colors and what kinds of men she hated!
Did Livia herself know as well as he did?
Ridiculous!
“Livia von Stern,” Allen said with a forced calm as he crossed his arms and laughed wildly inside, “You’ve never met a true mastermind before! Just wait, I’ll show you what it means to be haunted by nightmares! What it means to…uh, have lilies bloom?”
Allen’s grand declarations and his cheesy line struck like thunder, suddenly clearing the fog of confusion clouding Marianne’s heart.
“Hotter than hope…deeper than despair…”
She whispered, each word pounding like a hammer on her chest.
All her bitter hatred, reckless sacrifice, gnawing worries and fears, and the strange, blood-bound thrill she felt holding him tight—
All the chaos, contradictions, and emotional tearing inside her suddenly gained a clear name.
Love.
So it was love!
This realization surged through her like molten lava, flooding her entire body, making every limb tremble.
Love was so powerful it made her willing to sacrifice her life for him; Love was so dangerous, like a double-edged sword, that it could wound her or even…
Hurt Livia.
She feared hurting Livia, feared betraying their promise beneath the starry sky.
But what about Allen?
What about the young master who demanded, “Entangled until death”?
Mutually tormenting and hurting each other—wasn’t that the love he expected?
Marianne felt struck by a blinding light, enlightened in an instant.
All her pain, struggle, and confusion finally found their home.
She loved Allen de Laval.
She loved the man who once abused her, but now shared her blood and led her out of hell.
So she would never leave Allen.
And Allen must never leave her!
“Young master,” Marianne lifted her tear-streaked face, her eyes burning red with an almost obsessive glow, “I will do my best.”
“Oh?”
Allen’s eyes lit up, his face breaking into a radiant “worthy pupil” smile, “Great! Marianne, you finally see reason! That’s the spirit! With our combined strength, winning Livia is a piece of cake! Haha!”
He cheerfully stretched out his hand, wanting to high five or at least shake the hand of the assistant who “finally understood his great plan.”
Marianne looked at the strong, knuckled hand that had once dealt her countless blows but now offered kindness, and a scorching emotion almost overwhelmed her.
“Mm.”
She quietly replied and carefully clasped Allen’s hand.
His palm was much bigger, slightly cool from illness, but warm at its core.
The moment her fingertips touched his skin, a huge, indescribable happiness surged like electricity through her, nearly dizzying her.
This feeling of being filled, connected, and needed—was this happiness?
All the violent acts she once hated with all her heart became blurred and distant before this overwhelming “love.”
Even her grudges dissolved into this immense joy, leaving only a nearly pathological sense of fulfillment.
So happy.
She wanted the young master to feel this happiness too…
“Ow, ow, ow!!! Marianne! Since when did you get so strong? You’re going to break my bones!”
Allen suddenly yelped, trying to pull his hand free from Marianne’s “iron claw.”
“Ah! Sorry, young master!”
Marianne immediately loosened her grip, panicking, her cheeks flushed bright red.
But as she watched Allen grimace and shake his wrist in pain, a strange, sweeter feeling replaced her panic.
He reacted to her touch; he hurt from her strength; his pain reached her and shattered her heart!
This was love!
Love connected them!
A secret, twisted excitement sprouted like a vine in Marianne’s heart.
“Young master…”
Marianne’s voice was almost pleading, her red eyes locked on Allen’s, emotions swirling, “Please don’t hate me…please don’t…leave me.”
“All right, all right.”
Allen rubbed his reddened wrist, oblivious to the change in her gaze, thinking she was just frightened by the Inquisition.
“How could I hate you? Before you and Livia end up together happily, how could I leave you?”
“I’m your Yuelao…uh, Hongniang? Anyway, I’m an important NPC who must personally witness your HE Ending!”
He patted his chest, swearing with a villain’s smug smile that everything was under control.
That promise was like a stone thrown into a still lake, stirring huge ripples inside Marianne’s heart.
End up together?
With Livia?
What if…what if she couldn’t be with Livia?
Then…could she…be with the young master forever?
This thought slithered into her mind like a venomous snake, bringing sharp pain—and a chilling, dark sweetness.
Betraying Livia’s promise…so painful.
But…being with the young master forever…so happy…
This mixture of pain and happiness was also love!
Allen would never realize what a dangerous bomb he had just ignited.
With his words and actions, he repeatedly shattered Marianne’s already fragile heart and, after sharing the life-or-death ordeal of the Inquisition,
Marianne Durand had completely transformed—from a vengeance-driven heretic recruit to a sick soul ruled by twisted love.
His “Plan to Win Livia” was already doomed the moment Marianne took his hand, hurtling toward a direction he could neither predict nor control.
He looked at the pigeons flying across the plaza and dreamed of the future.
Once Livia was dealt with, he could avoid a death ending and live a carefree, lazy life.
Though he doubted its likelihood, a dream was a dream.
Thinking this, Allen’s lips curled into a classic villainous smile.
If he added an evil chuckle, he might scare passing children.
Seeing Allen’s silly (yet somehow radiant to her) grin, Marianne felt a flicker of warmth.
Sunlight bathed her pale face, and her once ice-cold expression melted like spring snow.
She lowered her head slightly and when she looked up, a gentle smile blossomed from her heart.
It was a beautiful smile, like a blooming lily, carrying the relief of survival and hope for the future.
But deep within her slightly narrowed, bloodshot eyes flickered a chilling, dangerous light—
An almost obsessive, severe dependence.
Allen remained completely unaware.