Chapter Twenty-Five: An Unheard Conversation (3)

The “carriage” was faster than Lilith had expected, a swift gull skimming along a shining rail.

It wasn’t because some hidden mystery tech had escaped the Little White Dragon’s eye. Sure, using a pinch of energy to push a vehicle this fast felt uncanny. But the car was pigeon-small, and she’d turned its pockets inside out; there was nowhere left for secrets to roost.

What broke her expectations was the road itself, a silver ribbon set with rails.

Little White Dragon realized she wasn’t in a carriage or a car at all. She was riding a single-seater… train, a darting swallow on a track.

Curiosity flared in her chest like lantern light. Bosaklie’s eerie transit design tugged at her like a fishing line. She wanted to study how these street-cars kept from kissing bumpers. Before she could, her little cart rocked and swayed to a stop, a boat nudging its pier.

“We’re here.” The maid at the controls let go, her hands floating down like falling leaves. She walked to Lilith and Nidhogg, bowed with calm moonlight in her eyes, and made a graceful “please disembark” gesture.

Lilith folded her curiosity and tucked it away, a paper crane set behind her heart. Business first. The Little White Dragon’s tiny itch for answers could wait; it wouldn’t fly off.

“Welcome to the Bosaklie Grand Library,” the maid said, voice like polished bronze. “It’s the greatest treasure of the Golden City.”

Little White Dragon followed her inside, steps light as mist. From the façade alone, she could feel the library’s weight inside the Eternal City. First impact mattered: this place was more opulent than the Demon’s palace, a sunlit hall versus a shadowed throne.

If you asked someone who’d never set foot in Bosaklie to choose between the palace and this library, she would point at the library’s golden glow and say, That’s where royalty lives.

The sensation peaked as she crossed the threshold. The interior didn’t feel like a library at all. Yes, rows of shelves stood like forests of bark and paper, and there was a coffee corner like a warm hearth. Beyond that, everything screamed feast and festival, not study and silence.

Look at that gold ceiling, a morning sky hammered flat. And that chandelier—wide as five Liliths laid side by side, a blazing comet caught and tamed.

Is this something a library should have? Little White Dragon thought of all the noble banquets she’d read about in her other world. None of them matched this river of splendor.

Even the seating for readers was plush leather, soft as cloud-bellies at dusk. Since crossing over, she’d never sat on anything this indulgent. Bosaklie used it as casual seating, as if luxury were water in a public well.

“Is this library open to everyone?” Little White Dragon asked, voice like a bell muffled in velvet.

“Yes.” The maid’s answer was solemn, an oath carved in stone. “The Grand Library welcomes every soul on this land. No matter your race, poor or rich, once you walk in, knowledge opens its arms.”

“Then why is there hardly anyone here?” Little White Dragon tilted her head, her curiosity a sparrow hopping on a branch.

“Because it’s work hours.” Satan appeared before her like a shadow stepping out of sunlight, the tall black demon woman catching the Little White Dragon’s chin between cool fingers, trying to lift her face to meet ember-dark eyes.

She didn’t get the chance. Nidhogg’s hand caught Satan’s wrist and pulled it aside, a steel vine curling and redirecting. The Black Dragon’s eyes flashed, storm-lit and sharp. She slid between Lilith and Satan, a shield of night.

“Ma’am, let’s find a place that’s better for talking,” Nidhogg said, voice kept level, thunder held behind the horizon. She was a little angry, heat coiled in her chest. But she remembered the demon’s daughter was about Lilith’s age. Maybe it was a mother’s itch to tease a cute girl, a playful wind tugging at a ribbon. Hard to snap at that.

“Fine.” Satan heard the warning in Nidhogg’s tone, a growl wrapped in silk. She shrugged, turned on her heel, and led them upstairs, steps smooth as poured ink.

Little White Dragon exhaled behind her lover, a dandelion puff of relief. She had felt pressure from the Black Dragon, a mountain’s shadow at her back. She thought, So that certain someone acts like a shameless gremlin every day, always teasing me. But she cares, doesn’t she? Look at her—jealous as a green vine.

“Jealous?” Little White Dragon slipped out from Nidhogg’s side, half her body peeking like a moon from clouds. She tipped up her pale face, smiling, light as a feather drifting down. An angel dropped from the sky breathed the words with a playful whoosh. “You like me that much? You never show it. But it’s normal—it’s me. Of course you’d be obsessed with this lady—mmph!”

The Black Dragon stopped the boastful mouth with a direct kiss, quick as lightning striking a bell. She scooped the girl up and spun once, a whirl of dark and white. She waited until the startled struggle melted like snow in spring. Only then did she set the leg-softened girl back on the floor.

“You—what are you doing?!” Little White Dragon clutched Nidhogg’s waist, gasping, breath like waves rushing the shore. She glared up, her delicate face blushing into half an apple, a drop of scarlet oil on clean cotton, coloring her cheeks with an inviting dawn.

“Showing you how much I love you,” Nidhogg said, solemn as a judge, hungry as a wolf. She licked her lips, savoring memory like a sip of wine. “Alright. Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Lady Satan waiting.”

“Villain,” Little White Dragon muttered, a pebble tossed at a lake. She stomped the Black Dragon’s foot, hard as she could. Nidhogg didn’t flinch, a mountain unmoved. She caught the girl’s slender waist and gave the soft flesh a firm squeeze, and without leaning on the Black Dragon, the girl’s knees went watery, a river losing its banks.

Hateful Nidhogg. For the next week, she won’t touch the bed—no moonlit truce, no midnight storms.

Up ahead, Satan turned back and noticed the two weren’t keeping up. She tilted her head, puzzled, like a crow watching slow travelers.

What are those two doing, and why are they so slow?