“Thank you all so much!”

Ling’s chest soured like thunder behind clouds. She still held Amelia’s hand; soft skin and a close, clean scent couldn’t smother that thick dissatisfaction.

A raised palm hung in the air like a hawk pausing mid-dive. That heartbeat of hesitation let Amelia and the Elvenfolk soldiers arrive.

From their angle, they saw Ling pinning Ait, like a hunter over fresh game. So Amelia draped all the laurels on Ling, and that’s why her thanks came so bright.

Truth be told, Ling didn’t want thanks, she wanted justice, clean and cold. She wanted Ait punished the way a blade answers a crime.

She hadn’t struck because this was Elvenfolk soil, moss-soft yet proud. She wouldn’t stain their name by meting out private judgment on their land.

One man wasn’t worth burning the loom. Months of planning would unravel into useless threads, wasting both her and Alicia’s strength. That loss would taste bitter.

Besides, neither she nor Alicia had taken true harm. Let the Elvenfolk handle it; with her status, they’d keep the scales steady. And that loud “revolution” elf?

What could that edgy, self-styled revolutionary possibly pull to dodge the axe?

Amelia let go of Ling’s fingers and walked to Ait, each step measured like ripples on a still lake. He bowed his head like a guilty child, eyes dodging hers.

Ling knew a show was about to start; her mood lightened like sun after rain. She skipped over to where she’d set Alicia down before.

Alicia was awake now. As a Yokai, her magic surged back like spring water; enough to be clear-headed, not enough to fight. Even seated, tired shadows pooled in her eyes.

Guilt pricked first, a thorn under the heart. Then Ling moved. She climbed into Alicia’s lap and settled, obedient as a cat seeking warmth.

Not bragging—okay, maybe a little—but Ling believed she was the comfiest pillow under heaven. Soft, light, and perfectly huggable.

…Wait. Did I just say that like a total show-off?

Truth bore her out. Pillow-Ling worked wonders; Alicia’s spirit brightened like lantern light at dusk. The fatigue still clung, but it no longer swallowed her whole.

“Hey… sorry. I made you worry, sis.” Ling’s voice was small, like a pebble dropped in a pond.

Alicia rubbed Ling’s head, fingers combing through silk-fine hair. She didn’t want to lift her hand, as if it might break a spell.

“Silly girl. How could your troubles be trouble to me? Making my little sister smile is my life’s greatest joy.”

She patted Ling again, a head-pat with boss-level crit. Ling couldn’t help it; a few kittenish “prr~ prr~” sounds slipped out, soft as down.

The cat-mischief hooked Alicia like a lullaby. Low on magic, she couldn’t do anything big, so Ling’s cuddly antics became her only festival.

Normally, Ling wasn’t this proactive with the cute. A tiny mishap had opened a window, and Alicia’s heart leaned right out to catch the breeze.

She even considered it—maybe “accidentally” draining her magic now and then, then waiting for this little darling to come and brighten her lap again.

Wouldn’t that be a lovely life?

Good thing Ling couldn’t read minds. She’d call Alicia a perv, for sure… and then show up the next day to pour on more cute anyway.

The two sisters, wrapped in a rosy glow, drew most of the soldiers’ eyes like moths to lanterns. Duty frayed; a watchful line turned to scattered reeds.

But time didn’t freeze for their sweetness; this wasn’t some JoJo time-stop monologue. Amelia really did stand there, staring at Ait in silence, for a long stretch.

Luckily, with the soldiers distracted by Ling, no one noticed how odd that tableau was, like a stage where the actors forgot their lines.

At last, Amelia moved. Her hands—cool moonlight—rose to Ait’s cheeks. A crisp clap snapped the air, pulling every gaze back like a hook.

It didn’t feel like a scolding blow. Her palms cupped his face instead, guiding it up, forcing his eyes to meet hers like flint tapping steel.

Their gazes locked. In Amelia’s pupils, strange lights flickered—storm and sea, duty and ache. Time thickened. Her crimson lips parted at last.

“Why did you do something so foolish?

Brother…”