“Liliya, it’s time to get up.”
A gentle, slightly lazy voice sounded by Liliya’s ear. Upon hearing it, Liliya slowly opened her golden eyes.
As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Rosalia hugging her, a faint smile at the corner of her lips.
Her body reacted far quicker than her mind, but Rosalia gently held her down. “What’s wrong? Liliya, have you already forgotten me?”
Rosalia’s gentle words seemed tinged with a hint of tears, and her soft face now carried a trace of sorrow.
Such an expression, it was hard to bear to agitate her any further.
“You are… Lady Rosalia…?”
A puzzled voice came from Liliya’s lips, that soft and delicate tone making Liliya frown once more.
She felt that her own voice shouldn’t sound like this, but how exactly should it sound?
A huge sense of strangeness, like a stone in her chest, made every heartbeat ache faintly.
Yet, the memories in her mind kept telling her that she was in her original form now, and that the elegant young girl she instinctively wanted to be wary of was her most important person, her owne—
“Master?”
She was startled by her own words.
To her surprise, she felt no resistance at all to such a form of address, completely unlike the feeling she had when seeing Rosalia.
Why was that?
That too was a question destined to have no answer.
“That’s right, I am Liliya’s master.”
Rosalia’s eyes were still filled with that gentle light. She softly stroked Liliya’s long hair, her fingers brushing lightly, the faint tickle making Liliya’s muscles tense up again, but soon she relaxed.
That contradictory feeling once again.
Her body was still resisting, but deep in her soul, she was told that Rosalia would never harm her, that she would even protect her.
Did she still need someone else’s protection?
A sharp, almost brain-splitting pain made her delicate brows knit, her pitiful fawn-like eyes brimming with tears, and her cool, soft cherry lips parted with a sticky whimper, “It hurts…”
Something important was hidden away, she could touch it but not unlock it. Each attempt only brought that same searing pain.
“Liliya…”
Rosalia’s voice now held a trace of grief. She hugged the fragile girl before her, letting Liliya bury her face against her own softness, her fingers continuously stroking Liliya’s hair.
“Liliya, you don’t have to think about these things. Not long ago, I had you return to the Human World, but those humans clearly didn’t see you as one of their own.”
“They caught you, locked you in a cage, and wanted to burn you alive at the stake. Fortunately, I had placed a magic spell on you in advance. Right before you were about to be sent to the Execution Rack, I rescued you.”
Human World? Saved me?
Another fierce headache struck. Liliya curled up in Rosalia’s embrace, and without her noticing, the fangs at the corner of her lips slowly grew longer—this seemed to be a blood clan’s instinctive defense.
“Don’t think about those things, I’m here for you.”
Rosalia’s voice seemed to carry a certain special magic. After hearing her, Liliya gradually calmed down.
Seeing Liliya like this, Rosalia’s lips curved gently.
Very good—the imprint she left in Liliya’s soul was working just as intended.
“You must have lost your memory from severe trauma. From now on, if you encounter such painful memories, just don’t think about them. Stay here with me for now. Once you’ve recovered, we can consider matters of returning to the Human World, all right?”
Liliya lay nestled in Rosalia’s arms, unable to say any words of refusal.
A voice kept echoing in her mind, telling her that everything Rosalia said was right, that as long as she listened, she didn’t need to think about anything else.
But every time she saw Rosalia, an inexplicable fear welled up in her, warning her that the woman before her was not as she now appeared.
Those completely contradictory thoughts again.
Which side should she trust?
Liliya did not know.
But… whenever she was stroked by Rosalia, the sense of reassurance grew even stronger.
“Alright, my Liliya, it’s time to get dressed. You’re still undressed.”
“Get dressed?”
Only then did she realize that she had been naked all along, just covered with a thin blanket, which was why she hadn’t noticed when she awoke.
“Because Liliya has forgotten so much, there are many things I need to teach you again. Let’s start with clothing.”
Rosalia helped Liliya stand, bringing her to the wardrobe.
Inside Liliya’s wardrobe were mostly luxurious dresses—Gothic, or those with layers of frills like princess dresses.
On the other side were more androgynous clothes.
Shirts and trousers, plain and unadorned, though the quality made it clear they were expensive—each piece would cost a commoner several months, or even years, of income.
“Do you remember what you are to me?”
Rosalia’s fingers slid across the clothes, lingering for two seconds on a white, waist-cinched princess dress, before quickly moving on.
Liliya saw all of this.
But her attention was caught by Rosalia, not the clothes.
“Lady Rosalia is my master.”
There was no problem with this statement. After her initial hesitation, these words were now branded into the depths of her soul.
Rosalia’s smile grew even warmer, yet she still shook her head, correcting her: “No, that’s not what I asked. I asked, ‘What are you to me?'”
“I am Lady Rosalia’s…”
What am I to you?
Another sharp pain.
She had no choice but to do as Rosalia said—to avoid the stabbing pain.
Once she did, a word surfaced in her mind. As it appeared, the pain slowly faded.
That feeling… was so comfortable.
As long as she didn’t think about what brought her pain, her mind could find other answers. The pain would fade, as if she were being embraced by Rosalia.
So comfortable.
It’s right not to think about those things.
That action seemed to be whispering this very concept to her.
Isn’t that so? Think about it—what good does remembering do? The more you try, the more it hurts, until you can’t even breathe.
But if you simply stop thinking after the pain, you can quickly feel better, and the pain in your mind will fade, replaced by warmth.
She should not recall anything—she should obey Lady Rosalia’s words.
She felt as if Rosalia was holding her, whispering softly in her ear.
She obeyed and said the word.
“I am Lady Rosalia’s… pet.”
“That’s right.”
Rosalia nodded in satisfaction, a countless playfulness shining deep in her eyes.
The Sword Saint of the Church.
A pet of the blood clan.
“Hehe.”
Rosalia let out a crisp, delighted laugh.
“So, my little pet, what kind of clothes do you think you should wear?”
She made no demands, leaving the choice entirely to Liliya.
Liliya’s gaze swept around the wardrobe, pausing for a long time on that princess dress. She instinctively wanted to choose it, but the complicated decorations and heavy hem made her resist.
She felt that she shouldn’t wear such things. She should wear something else.
In the end, her gaze skipped over the princess dress, settling on the shirt and pants.
She pointed to them.
“This set.”
Rosalia’s laughter slowly faded.
“Are you sure?”
Mm.
“Answer…wrong.”
Rosalia’s smile was gone—not happy, but expressionless.
“It seems Liliya really has forgotten many things. There are some things I will have to teach you again.”
Hearing Rosalia’s words, Liliya’s breathing grew much heavier, as if something terrible was about to happen to her mind.
Rosalia had changed. Because she had made the wrong choice, she had become truly frightening.
Is this really her master?