In the end, Seraphina fell asleep clinging to the very edge of the bed.
Even with what felt like an unbridgeable chasm between her and Movira, she still sensed danger.
She lay with her back to Movira, cocooned tightly in the quilt, curled into a small ball.
Yet the teasing she feared never came. The only sounds in the room were the occasional crackle of logs in the fireplace… and the steady breathing of the person behind her.
Utter exhaustion finally overpowered her tense nerves. Seraphina’s consciousness slipped into darkness…
Deep in the night, moonlight spilled a silver thread across the window.
Movira slowly opened her eyes.
She turned onto her side, propped her head on one hand, and gazed at the true girl now sleeping at the bed’s edge.
Seraphina’s curled posture had relaxed. Long lashes cast gentle shadows beneath her eyes.
Movira reached out and carefully pulled her a little closer.
“Really… aren’t you afraid of falling off and hurting yourself?”
She brushed aside a stray lock of hair from Seraphina’s forehead.
Then, ever so slowly, she leaned down and placed a kiss as light as a goose feather upon Seraphina’s lips—there and gone in an instant.
…
When Seraphina woke, she discovered—to her horror—that she was now lying in the center of the bed.
Her back pressed against a warm presence, and an arm was even draped around her waist!
“Ah!!!!”
She shot away like a startled cat, scrambling and rolling back to the edge.
Crimson instantly flooded her cheeks.
Movira was roused by the commotion.
She propped herself up lazily, a smile playing on her lips.
“Good morning, darling. You slept so soundly last night you even threw yourself into my arms.”
“You’re lying!” Seraphina frantically checked her clothes.Aside from the normal amount of rumpling, nothing seemed amiss.
“Go wash up and get ready for breakfast.”
Movira was in an excellent mood. She rose, dressed herself, and added casually, “I keep my promises about your vacation. Oh, and there’s a surprise too!”
When Seraphina arrived at the small dining room with considerable trepidation, she was greeted not by the usual nauseating demon fare, but by steaming, fluffy golden bread, sparkling blueberry jam, perfectly fried eggs, and—finally—a bowl of meat porridge that seized her heart completely.
She stood frozen in place, unable to react.
“Come, try it. See if it’s authentic enough?” Movira gestured for her to sit.
“From now on, all your meals will be to this standard. Oh, and Lina’s too.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Lina entered carrying two glasses of milk.
With no other demon maids present, Lina naturally showed neither of them much deference.
She silently set down the tray and turned to leave.
“Lina.”
Movira’s voice made her pause. It seemed to be the first time Movira had ever addressed her directly by name.
Instead of “that maid of yours,” “the human girl,” or “that one called Lina”…
“What is it?” Lina turned slowly, her expression as calm as ever.
“Sit.”
Movira’s tone left no room for refusal. Lina obeyed without thinking—there was no downside for her, after all.
She was merely astonished: the Demon King was allowing a human to sit at the table?
Seraphina didn’t quite understand either. She wasn’t opposed—she simply shared Lina’s question.
Since when had Movira changed her attitude toward Lina?
“Lina, thank you for today.”
“Eh?!” The sudden thanks caught Seraphina off guard. Having a human eat at the same table was already shocking enough.
“You…” Lina opened her mouth, her voice a little stiff. “Why thank me?”
She seemed unaware that this was also her first real conversation with Movira.
Movira elegantly picked up a slice of bread, spread jam on it with deliberate grace, and held it out to Lina. “Why thank you? If not for you, who knows how much of those ingredients would have gone to waste in the kitchen!”
“Waste?” Seraphina didn’t follow. Waste what?
“The demon maids couldn’t read the human recipes at all. They could only stare at those blurry pictures. Everything the Giantwing Demons brought the day before yesterday was completely ruined!”
“Completely ruined?!”
Seraphina recalled the sight of several Giantwing Demons struggling under the weight of those crates. That had not looked like a small quantity at all.
She had even personally opened a few boxes herself.
“Mhm. Human food is still best left to humans.”
Movira continued holding out the slice of bread. Lina did not take it immediately.
Though it irked Movira slightly, she let it slide—because it was Lina.
With a flick of magic, she pushed the bread firmly into Lina’s hand.
Lina pressed her lips together, said nothing, and silently began eating. The rest of the breakfast passed in a strange, heavy quiet.
After the meal, Lina was the first to leave—she practically fled from Movira’s presence.
…
Even though it truly was a week-long vacation, Seraphina had her own plans. She still had to deal with some documents.
Specifically, everything related to the “Merit of Tillage.”
Even if Movira was willing to help—or even take full charge—Seraphina did not dare hand it over completely.
Who knew what kind of trouble she might stir up.
The process was far more difficult than imagined. Despite Dekrian’s clear support, resistance from traditionalist factions—especially the lower nobility—remained everywhere.
Individually, these scattered nobles could not make waves. Together, however, their influence was not to be underestimated.
After filtering out unrelated reports, the remaining pile was still considerable.
Yet for Seraphina, it was much lighter than usual.
Unlike those idiotic disputes or complaints, this time she actually felt the demons weren’t so stupid after all. Their wording and rhetoric were surprisingly well-crafted!
Which only proved from the side that this policy truly threatened their interests.
The Giantwing Demons were staunch supporters of the reform—they were one of the few clans with direct trade ties to humans, so it suited them perfectly.
Yet the seeds and tools they procured kept suffering “accidents” en route.
Certain nobles in remote regions also ignored Seraphina’s orders, secure in the distance from the capital.
Of course, all of this was within Seraphina’s expectations. She had never hoped to shatter centuries of conservatism overnight.
However long it took, she could accept it.
Reports from the Blackstone Outpost were gradually becoming a powerful weapon against the doubters.
In his latest dispatch, Bask described several sturdy young sprouts thriving in the black soil.