The next morning, I woke before dawn, washed up as steam curled like pale mist, then headed into the kitchen to make breakfast.
After crying the whole day yesterday, the Emperor of Flames bounced back like ash lifted by wind, and his depravity somehow leveled up.
I stepped out and found him crouched by my door, wearing a face that screamed, “Please step on me,” like a slug worshiping a boot.
While I cooked, he hovered at my side, throwing crude jokes like rotten fruit, and I honestly wanted to boil him like a crab.
Trouble piled like stones; he was even worse than yesterday. His courtship came like a buzzing fly—every three sentences, “Please, marry me.”
No matter how I refused, it didn’t stick. A fly you can swat; the Emperor of Flames you can’t.
Even at breakfast, he turned food talk into marriage and babies, steering like a slick snake, and we pitched him out of the Fire Dragon Hall.
He came back unfazed, mouthing shameless lines like a sewer overflowing, and ignoring him felt like trying to ignore a mosquito swarm.
Staying near him is pain like heat ripples over lava; no wonder Yan Ya Princess ran away. In her shoes, I’d make the same choice.
What can we even do? He lacks shame like a stone lacks water; refusal and force bounce off him like rain off a slab.
With this kind of pest, Yan Ya Princess and I were helpless. His patience was iron; wherever I went, he followed like a shadow.
His gaze crawled over me like a lizard on warm rock, and my skin crawled back. I could say I want to kill him, but I’m too weak.
“…Yumigawa Sumeragi, hang in there. One more day, then we move to the third level. Chin up.”
Seeing my face sink like a setting moon, Yan Ya Princess squeezed my hand, light as a breeze, and tried to lift me.
“Mm… I’ll try.”
I held her soft hand, and my heart felt bandaged like a sprain wrapped in silk. Without her on this second level, I’d snap.
With this cute creature by my side, I could endure the Emperor of Flames, a walking furnace of perversion.
I smiled at her and said, “Hey, want some sweets?” The thought rose like a lantern.
We had time; dishes and clothes were already washed, and the halls were clean, quiet as a temple after rain.
Only the three of us lived in the Fire Dragon Hall, so there was no point tidying empty rooms like dusting vacant clouds.
“Yes! I do!”
Yan Ya Princess raised her hand like a sprout reaching sun, eyes bright, mouth already watering—too cute.
“I want some too! I want sweets made with Yumigawa’s love!”
The Emperor of Flames sprinted ahead like a stray dog, yelling. Ugh, could he be any slimier?
“…Let’s do it.”
“…Okay.”
Yan Ya Princess and I shared a look, then—
“Pervert—useless big brother—go die!”
We kicked in sync; he sailed toward the far edge of the sky like a rag launched by a storm.
—He came back whole, of course, and his begging wore me down like waves sanding a shell. I had to make his share too. Tragic.
So the second day blew by in noise, and night drifted in like ink.
…
Nine o’clock. I stepped from the bath, skin warm, steam trailing like ghost fog, and found Yan Ya Princess asleep on the soft sofa.
She looked peaceful as moonlight on water, and I couldn’t help smiling. I took a blanket and tucked it over her, gentle as snow.
“Mm, I’ll catch some night breeze. It’s a bit hot.”
The Land of Lava burns by day, but at night a wind wanders like a tired traveler. I walked toward the balcony.
—Regret hit like a cold splash. The Emperor of Flames was crouched there, eating the sweets I’d made earlier, slow as a turtle.
I tried to retreat like a cat on silent paws, but he spotted me. “Oh? Yumigawa, you’re done bathing! Mmm—so fragrant!”
“And don’t rush off. Come sit a moment, like a leaf in shade.”
“Ugh…”
Disgust rose like bile. I wanted to leave, but I’m technically his maid, and simple requests were hard to refuse.
I sighed and sat beside him, words tossed like pebbles. “What do you want, Emperor of Flames?”
“Can’t your tone be warmer? I am your master for these three days, like sun over sand.”
He put on airs, then snuck his hand toward my thigh like a thief. I caught it early and punched him, quick as a hawk.
“That depends on the master’s quality, doesn’t it?” I shot him a look, dry as tinder.
“Ahaha! Don’t be shy, Yumigawa.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“Ahem. Enough jokes. Business.”
He set his face serious, eyes fixed like a blade. I straightened too, breath steadying like still water.
“Yumigawa Sumeragi!”
His tone was so serious it clanged like a bell.
“What is it?!”
I swallowed, tension tightening like a drawn bow.
“Please… give me a lap pillow and clean my ears.”
My mind blanked, like a candle snuffed. That’s the grand request behind that grim face?
“Please! I beg you!”
I blinked, and he was already kneeling, dignity shed like old skin. “I’ve lived so long and never felt a lap pillow or an ear cleaning!”
“I’m dying to try it! Please, grant my wish!”
“…”
Honestly, I wanted to refuse, but his pitiful look drooped like a wilted flower. And… a maid giving a lap pillow and ear cleaning is normal.
I sighed, resigned as rain. I picked up a cotton swab—probably planted there by him—and patted my thigh. “Fine. Only for a bit, got it?”
“Mm! I understand!”
He sprang up and wiped his tears, then lay down carefully, setting his head on my lap like a bird in a nest.
“!!!”
Shock lit his face like sunrise, and tears welled again, shimmering. “So soft, so fresh… I’m so glad I’m alive!”
He rubbed in, crying, like a cat kneading a cushion.
Thump!
I cracked him on the head and held him still, firm as a clamp. “Don’t move. I’m cleaning your ears now.”
“Okay!”
He froze like carved wood, only his breath moving like a slow tide.
I started with the cotton swab, gentle as a reed in water.
“Ah—so good!”
He couldn’t help it; his voice slipped scandalous, like heated honey.
“Ah—Yumigawa’s little stick sliding into that spot, stirring and stirring—mm… so good!”
“…”
“Ah-ha—mm… mmm!”
I grabbed a towel from the wall, faster than my body should allow, balled it up, and stuffed it into his mouth like a cork.
“Shut up. And stop groping while you’re at it, you pervert.”
“Mmm—mmm!”
…
One day left until we meet the Emperor of Flames’s conditions.
