The warm water seemed unable to wash away that inexplicable unease.
Afroditi lay sprawled in the bath, her mind replaying Bella’s parting words over and over again.
“Something’s wrong… absolutely wrong!”
An anxious feeling gnawed at her heart like a tiny insect.
The more Afroditi thought about it, the more restless she became.
Suddenly, she stood up from the water, droplets splashing loudly.
Not bothering to dry off, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself.
Her dripping wet golden hair trailed behind as she hurried out of the bathroom.
“Bella? Bella!”
Wrapped in the towel, barefoot, she walked down the empty corridor, calling out, her voice carrying a sense of urgency she barely noticed herself.
The living room, the lounge, the kitchen… all deserted.
“Where did she run off to?”
Her unease deepened.
Just as she was about to rush upstairs, an extremely faint yet unusually familiar melody drifted into her ears like spider silk in the night breeze.
That melody… melodious and ancient, carrying an indescribable sadness and tenderness — a lullaby hummed in the ancient demonic tongue!
Afroditi’s feet froze instantly! Her heart clenched as if gripped by an invisible hand.
“This… this song…”
Her pupils narrowed slightly.
It was that song… from long ago, on a cold Winter Night when little Bella was curled up trembling under the covers with a high fever.
He, Bachros, had clumsily hummed the tune with his off-key voice to soothe her — a dissonant lullaby composed in the ancient demonic tongue.
“Bella…”
Afroditi immediately followed the almost imperceptible melody and hurried to find its source.
Cool moonlight poured like liquid mercury onto the small open balcony.
Bella hugged her knees, curled up on the rattan round stool, her small figure nearly blending into the serene moonlight.
Along the railing, a dozen terracotta pots were neatly arranged, each containing the same kind of pale purple bell-shaped flowers.
They shimmered softly under the moonlight, emitting a sweet and gentle fragrance.
Each one had been personally planted by Bella year after year.
It was because long ago, when Bachros had been handling affairs in a valley in the Demon Clan Territory where these wildflowers bloomed, he casually said to the girl following him, “These little purple flowers aren’t unpleasant to look at.”
“Not unpleasant to look at”…
For those two words, every spring Bella carefully planted a new seed, as if so long as these flowers bloomed, the one who said “not unpleasant to look at” would always come back.
But at this moment, Bella felt not a trace of warmth.
Her fingers unconsciously brushed over a soft petal, and her deep purple eyes filled with loneliness.
“Master… is back… I should be happy. But why does my chest feel so heavy?”
The scene at the bathroom door wouldn’t fade from her mind.
Recalling Afroditi’s refusal echoed through her heart’s wounds once more.
Since childhood, she had never been needed.
A mixed-blood Outcast, in a realm that valued pure bloodlines, she was seen as a freak, destined to be discarded like trash by the roadside.
“Our family doesn’t need mixed-bloods. We don’t need useless things like you, you freak.”
No matter how heart-wrenchingly Bella cried, those coldhearted people would never turn back.
The words “don’t need” were deeply engraved into her young heart, impossible to erase.
It was Bachros who reached out to her, gave her a name, a family, and a reason to exist.
Those gentle hands gave Bella a profound sense of security.
Hard expired hard bread was replaced with precious jam soft bread.
When others spoke ill of Bella, it was Bachros who silenced them.
Bella had never imagined how fortunate she was to meet Master Bachros — the one who gave her a second life.
But ever since being placed here by Bachros, their meetings had become fewer and fewer.
As Bella grew older, she became more sensible and understood that Master’s world was not only jam soft bread and sweet water, but also filled with work and worries.
Although Bachros came back from time to time to accompany her and satisfy some of her small requests, and although Bella was always happy then, it was still far from enough!
She wanted it all the time! Everything!
Gradually, Bella began to entrust her restless longing to that unconscious body.
Bathing that body every day became her most important and cherished ritual.
She would carefully wash every inch of skin, cautiously comb the long hair, all the while whispering her thoughts softly.
“Master, another Bellflower bloomed in the Flower Garden today…”
“Master, Bella learned a new dessert. When you wake up, shall I make it for you to try?”
“Master, when will you come back? Bella… misses you so much.”
The warm water, the rising steam, and that silent body leaning in her hands…
That was the only moment Bella felt that Master completely belonged to her.
She could pour out all her longing and dependence without reservation, and that body would never refuse, never leave.
It was the moment she cherished most, the way she contributed to Master, the full meaning of her existence, the powerful proof that she was needed.
It was how she soothed the wounds left by the words “not needed” carved deep within her fragile soul.
Her throat tightened, her nose stung.
She didn’t want to cry, because tears were the most useless thing.
But… it hurt so much, and she was so scared.
Somehow, that ancient, dissonant melody instinctively slipped from her lips.
It was the lullaby Bachros had clumsily hummed to her on that cold Winter Night when she was feverish and delirious…
Under the moonlight, a tear silently slid down and landed coldly on the back of her hand.
Following the song, Afroditi found her final destination and quietly pushed open the slightly ajar door.
Moonlight veiled the balcony like a sheer curtain.
An incredible sight instantly appeared—pale purple Bellflowers swayed in the moonlight, forming a hazy halo, and Bella curled up on the rattan stool in the middle of the flowers, her frail silhouette fragile as glass.
That off-key lullaby flowed softly from her lips, low and gentle, filled with heartbreaking loneliness and longing.
“These flowers…”
Afroditi’s gaze swept over the blossoms.
A vague memory flickered — it was the casual “not unpleasant to look at” she had once said.
So she had always remembered, and had planted so many…
“Bella…”
Afroditi murmured, stepping lightly into the moonlit flower shadows.
Her footsteps startled the humming girl.
The singing abruptly stopped.
Bella’s shoulders stiffened, and she quickly wiped her face.
“Lady Afroditi?!”
Bella froze, hastily erasing the tears, taking a deep breath to steady her emotions, straightening her back, forcing a faint smile.
But her flustered movements could not hide her sorrow from Afroditi.
Bella had been crying, and very deeply.
“Bella.” Afroditi said softly.
The girl before her slowly turned around.
The moonlight illuminated her profile.
Her eyes tried to hold back the storm, but the reddened rims and tip of her nose betrayed her feelings.
“Lady Afroditi, what are you doing here? You just finished bathing…”
Seeing Afroditi’s disheveled appearance, wrapped in a towel with dripping hair, her voice suddenly faltered.
Afroditi still cared so much for her, just as before.
Thinking this eased some of the bitterness in Bella’s heart.
“That song…” Afroditi was surprised that Bella could remember such a complex ancient demonic tongue lullaby.
Bella lowered her eyes, long lashes casting shadows, her voice steady but quiet, “Mm… it’s been a long time since I last sang it. Master wouldn’t think Bella is childish, would you?”