In short. Let’s not tug at the deeper knots, like roots buried under river silt.

Because Nana Toki ran into Aji by chance, her and Ling’er Long’s ride back to Mida Village went from shoe leather to carriage wheels, like feet traded for hooves.

On the way home, Nana wanted to swing by that small town near Mida Village to settle old scores with Jin Sanpang, like cashing a storm-dark debt.

But she feared mishaps would sprout like thistles along the road, so she shelved it with a sigh, like folding a map in the wind.

Saving the villagers of Mida Village had already shoved against this world’s Heavenly Will, like rowing upstream through thunder.

Now Nana had yanked the future again, dragging Ling’er Long—who should be recruiting in the Marl Kingdom—back by sheer force, like pulling a comet off its path.

If she kept not acting human and poked the plot once more, Heaven might throw lightning at her skull again, like spears of white fire.

For the sake of her hair, Nana decided to spare that fat man for now, then hunt him down once her villagers were truly settled, like a hawk picking its moment.

It was the right thought, but who knew when she’d actually settle Mida Village, like waves finally smoothing a shore.

Even so, her return from the Marl Kingdom came faster than planned—just a day and a half, like an arrow cutting lanes of cloud.

Aji pulled the carriage up to Mida’s gate, and Nana saw the Protagonist Lord sunning himself on the grass, like a lizard basking on warm stone.

The self-proclaimed village belle finally realized she was home, like a swallow finding the eaves again.

“Prin— Miss Rock Sugar, you’re back?” Lorin lay there with a dry stalk in his teeth, then jolted upright, like a dog pricked by a burr.

“Weren’t you going to pick up a friend?” His words stumbled like pebbles tipping down a slope.

Half a month, right? How did you return in half the time, like a clock skipping hours?

Did something go wrong, like stormclouds gathering without sound? Lorin’s mind ran in circles.

“Got my friend, so I came back.” Nana tipped her chin toward Ling’er Long, whose face was cool as ice on slate.

“Let me introduce her. This woman is the Marl Kingdom’s grand princess, Ling’er Long, now lodging with us as Mida Village’s deputy belle.” Nana’s tone rang like bells on a gate.

“What the heck?” Lorin blinked, like a fish staring at bright metal.

“The Marl Kingdom’s grand princess?” He stared at Ling’er’s blank face and felt his guts tilt, like a cart on a rut.

The “deputy belle” part he tossed aside like chaff, too stunned to chew.

Isn’t Hedon Kingdom on bad terms with Marl? How are these two friends, like cats sharing milk?

Lorin’s next question rose to his lips, but Ling’er’s glare nailed it back down, like a spike through a plank.

Fine, fine, I’ll shut up—no need to wield your eyes like knives, like winter wind on bare skin.

Lorin scratched his head and looked back at Nana. “Prin— Miss Rock Sugar, where’s that Marl Kingdom specialty you promised me?” His appetite peeked out like a fox.

Mida’s food was decent, but the same dishes, day after day, wore thin like a rope against stone.

“But the specialty’s right in front of you.” Nana folded her arms, her words landing like a slap of water.

Lorin scanned around and saw nothing that looked like Marl goods, like a magpie searching for silver.

“Are you blind? It’s right here.” Nana pointed at Ling’er Long, almost writing “local specialty” across her cheek like a stamp. “Has that Marl flavor, right? But heads up—this specialty’s for me. You can look, not touch.”

Lorin: “...”

You’re calling the Marl Kingdom’s princess a local specialty, like labeling a crown a snack?

His gaze shifted; was this princess of theirs a few strings short, or was Nana’s brain rattling like beans in a jar?

Who goes to fetch a friend from a foreign land and brings back the princess as a souvenir, like stuffing royalty into a saddlebag?

And “eat” what, exactly, like wolves circling a lamb?

“Ah, and I once used a pink burlap sack to pack her, but she didn’t like it, so I dropped it. Would’ve given her a stronger ‘specialty’ vibe.” Nana’s voice stayed calm as frost.

Lorin: “...”

Hold on—did our princess just deliver a bomb as casually as pouring tea?

A sack? So this was a kidnapping, like a fox slipping past the fence?

Picking up a friend meant scooping up the neighbor’s princess, like pocketing their lantern at night?

Lorin was floored, like clay hit by a hammer.

Is our princess right in the head, like a compass with two norths?

“Miss Rock Sugar… won’t this spark diplomatic trouble?” He glanced at Ling’er like a candle watching wind.

That’s the Marl Kingdom’s princess! If their king finds out, won’t war ignite like tinder?

“No need to worry. They don’t know it was me.” Nana’s identity stayed wrapped in shadow like silk at dusk. “But give it a few days; they’ll figure it out.”

Lorin exhaled, then choked when her next sentence pealed like thunder at noon.

“I nabbed her in an arena, with a thousand pairs of eyes on me.” Nana shrugged, breezy as grass.

“I’d be shocked if they didn’t track it back to me,” she said, like laughing in the rain.

“But don’t panic. Their princess is in our hands. Even if they know, they won’t move rashly, like a cat frozen under a raised broom.”

Lorin: “...”

“All right, don’t stand here like a lightning rod.” Nana waved him aside like shooing a fly. “I’m back. Your task’s done. I owe you one.”

She sounded casual as wind through reeds, which irked like grit in a boot.

“Humph. You head off too.” Nana pressed a few silver coins into Aji’s palm, like tossing pebbles into a stream. “If you see Jin Sanpang, tell him this lady isn’t done with him.”

Damn it—he scammed her out of a gold coin, the fat thief, and this tab needed settling, like rain collecting in a barrel.

“But—” Aji’s words knotted like fishing line.

“No buts. Are all you men this fussy?” Nana snapped, her impatience swift as a whip crack.

She sent Aji packing, then turned back to Ling’er, who’d stood a short distance away like a statue under moonlight.

“Don’t just stare. Come with me. I’ll show you where you’ll sleep tonight.” Nana reached out.

Ling’er’s right hand got caught like a bird in gentle netting. She tugged twice, then met Nana’s gaze, hot as iron fresh from the forge.

“Did I hurt you?” Nana asked as they walked home, fingers laced like vines over a fence. “Do you really hate me touching you?”

Ling’er felt that stare press like warm sunlight. Her cheeks ticked pink, like cherry petals catching a breeze.

“It’s nothing.” The words were cool, but her heart tripped like hooves over stone.

She disliked this woman, yet under that gaze her pulse raced, like a drum hidden behind silk. Maybe her mind had a glitch, like a gear skipping teeth. This had never happened before.

They walked hand in hand through Mida Village awhile, like lanterns drifting along a river. Children swarmed them, sparrows made of giggles.

Most asked where Nana had been, but a few sharp-eyed girls noticed Ling’er by her side, like kittens spotting a new cat.

“Big Sister Rock Sugar, who’s this lady?” a little girl asked, chin tipped up like a bud seeking sun.

Nana didn’t hide. “I went far and fetched you a deputy village belle,” she said, pointing at Ling’er, like unveiling a flower at festival.

“Deputy belle?” one kid blinked, like watching a firefly blink twice.

“It means the second prettiest girl in the village!” another declared, smug as a crow.

“You’re so dumb,” a third chimed, like a pebble plunking in a pond.

“Ugh…” And then they were chirping and chasing again, like butterflies over grass.

Nana let their laughter ripples fade and led Ling’er to her brick house, squat and sturdy like a warm loaf.

“You live here?” Ling’er lifted her chin and frowned, eyes sweeping the room like rain measuring a field.

“Isn’t it a bit small?” The Marl princess, used to vast chambers, was displeased, like a swan shown a coop.

“I’m not adored everywhere like you, princess. You get a roof; don’t start nitpicking,” Nana said, rolling her eyes like marbles.

“Don’t forget—you’re currently abducted by me. Be good,” she added, words soft, edge sharp, like silk covering a blade.

“Where do I sleep tonight?” Ling’er pointed at the single bed, like an arrow at a target. “There’s no spare.”

“Where else? With me, same bed.” Nana pushed open a window, light spilling like honey. “We’ve slept together before. What’s with that frosty face?”

“Crowded.” Ling’er swallowed a beat, then dropped the one word like a stone.

“I don’t like that feeling,” she said, blunt as winter.

“Then you take the bed, and I’ll take the floor.” Nana didn’t argue. She fetched a futon from the storage room and laid it beside Ling’er’s bed, neat as stacked tiles.

“If you can’t sleep, you can come down and join me,” she said after a beat, like bait set with a smile.

Goodwill needs slow brewing; haste breaks the pot, like tea scalded by a rush. Nana knew the craft—her reins steady as a rider’s.

Sure enough.

“Wh—who wants to sleep with you.” Ling’er’s face flushed red, like a plum ripening under sun.