Aurora returned to her room.
She sat on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees tightly, burying her face in them—only a pair of beautiful eyes left peeking out.
She kept replaying the way Lorabelle had treated her—cold, angry, distant for no reason—and it felt like her heart was drowning in a swamp, suffocating and heavy.
A single clear tear slid from the corner of her eye and dampened her sleeve.
Then came another.
And another.
Until the tears flowed like a small stream, soaking her sleeve completely.
She tried to suppress the sound of her crying, but soft sobs still slipped out in waves.
The usual graceful, composed mask she wore seemed like a lie. In this moment, Aurora looked like nothing more than a heartbroken, immature adult, wiping her eyes over and over, gritting her teeth to hold back her sobs—just to maintain the illusion of being grown-up.
But really, whether it was back then or now, she’d always been a fool.
Pretending she was mature enough to accept everything with calm rationality—when deep down she was still fragile, still yearning for the love of someone who truly cared.
And with just the slightest blow, her heart would shatter like porcelain.
Click.
The door opened without warning.
Aurora looked up—standing in the doorway was Lorabelle.
She panicked, hurriedly wiping the tears from her face.
But no matter how quickly she tried to erase them, the redness in her eyes gave her away.
Anyone could see she had been crying for a long time.
“Lo… Lady Holy Knight…” she said, rising politely to her feet.
Her voice still trembled from crying, thin and fragile.
“Sister…”
A soft voice reached Aurora’s ears.
She froze, unable to believe what she had just heard.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze and met Lorabelle’s eyes.
Something about her… felt different.
Lorabelle’s eyes—once so brilliant—were now disturbingly dim and clouded.
Her once vibrant crimson irises seemed soaked in mud and blood, dull and filthy.
She was smiling as she looked at Aurora.
But it was the kind of smile someone wears when they’re teetering on the edge of madness—desperate, deranged, clinging to a fragile hope.
“Lady Holy Knight…?”
Aurora called out again, uncertain, as if testing whether the girl before her was still the same.
But it was as if Lorabelle couldn’t hear her at all.
She stepped forward, raising her trembling hands to gently cup Aurora’s face.
Her touch was freezing cold—chilling to the bone, like the hands of a corpse.
At such close distance, Aurora could clearly see Lorabelle’s eyes—those murky, blood-soaked pupils staring into her as if trying to find everything she’d ever yearned for, all within Aurora’s body.
“…Sister.”
She whispered again.
This time, Aurora heard it clearly.
“Sister, I missed you so much… Where did you go? I searched for you for so long… Sister… Sister…”
She buried her face into Aurora’s chest, her voice trembling with longing.
But there was a heavy, oppressive gloom in her tone.
Aurora could feel it now—Lorabelle’s body radiated an overwhelming, unsteady energy, thick and suffocating.
“Sister, sister, sister… I missed you… I missed you… I missed you…”
Lorabelle’s voice grew increasingly frantic, her pupils sinking deeper into darkness.
The oppressive aura around her intensified, closing in like a net.
Aurora found it hard to breathe under its weight.
“Your Highness… what’s wrong…?”
Lorabelle clung to her tightly.
The suffocating energy surrounding her was deeply familiar—yet terrifying.
It felt as though Lorabelle wanted to envelop her completely, digest her slowly, trap her in her embrace forever.
Aurora tried to push her away.
But Lorabelle was a holy knight—her strength far exceeded Aurora’s.
No matter how hard she struggled, it was useless.
Suddenly, Lorabelle shoved Aurora down onto the bed.
She straddled her, placing her hands firmly on either side of Aurora, trapping her beneath her body.
“Sister… am I a bad girl?”
“Sister… I killed someone… Am I still your most beloved little sister?”
“Sister… do you still love me?”
“Sister, you do still love me, don’t you?”
“Sister, say something! I love you… I love you so much, Sister…”
“Don’t abandon me. I only want you. I don’t care about Father, Mother, or Brother… I only want Sister. And you—you only need me too, right? Right? Sister, tell me I’m right…”
The words poured down like a storm, relentless and overwhelming.
Aurora was speechless.
She didn’t understand what had happened to Lorabelle to make her like this.
But she knew—this twisted, unhinged girl pressing down on her now was no longer the sweet, obedient little sister she remembered.
“L-Lady Holy Knight, what’s… what’s wrong…?”
“Lady Holy Knight? Lady Holy Knight…?”
“I’m not some holy knight! I’m your sister, Sister—don’t you remember me?!”
“Why do you care so much about that holy knight? Is she more important to you than me?!”
“Tell me, Sister!”
Lorabelle’s hands suddenly clamped around Aurora’s throat.
Her eyes were unstable, filled with panic—as if terrified Aurora might vanish again at any moment.
“Don’t leave me, Sister. Please… I’ll do anything for you.”
Her grip tightened.
Aurora was almost completely unable to breathe.
“L-let… go…”
Aurora clutched at Lorabelle’s wrists, struggling with all her might, but it was no use.
Just as she was on the verge of losing consciousness, Lorabelle abruptly loosened her grip.
Aurora gasped violently for air, chest heaving.
“Sister… did I hurt you…?”
“I-I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Please forgive me, okay? Sister?”
“I won’t do that again, I swear… Please don’t hate me… Don’t hate me… I’ll do anything… anything…”
Lorabelle’s expression grew even more panicked.
Tears streamed down her cheeks in uncontrollable waves.
“Please… come to your senses, Lady Holy Knight…”
“Holy knight, holy knight, holy knight…”
“Why… why do you still bring her up?! Is she really more important than me?!”
“Have you already stopped loving me?”
“No, no, no…!”
Her tears fell like rain.
Aurora could feel her clothes being soaked through by them.
“Sister, please… just love me a little more, care for me a little more… like me a little more…”
“Sister, can I be a little more selfish? A little more reckless? A little braver? A little more dependent?”
As she spoke, Lorabelle once again reached out and cradled Aurora’s cheeks in her trembling hands.
Her face leaned in close.
By the time Aurora realized what she was trying to do—it was already too late.
“W-wait, please—mmph…”
Her ‘petals’ were sealed with force.
Aurora could feel her warm breath mingling with hers.
The kiss grew more intense, more dominant.
Lorabelle pressed her entire body down, crushing Aurora beneath her as if trying to melt the two of them into one.
Air was stolen from her lips, and again Aurora struggled to breathe.
Tears streamed down her cheeks—but Lorabelle didn’t stop.
Instead, she broke the kiss only to tenderly kiss away Aurora’s tears.
“Haa… haa…”
Both of them panted heavily, their warm breaths grazing each other’s flushed faces.
Neither knew how long the kiss had lasted, only that they were both utterly drained.
“Sister… I love you so much…”
“P-please… let go of me… Lady Holy Knight…”