Luckily, no random events triggered during the bath. The only awkward moment was getting a nosebleed while facing Yeluo—he got startled!

I didn’t mean it… really not… I just tripped and then… turned back.

Yeluo might be young, but she has a great figure—not super curvy, but nicely proportioned and cute.

That’s right, I’m just judging aesthetically, hmph!

No weird thoughts at all.

As a royal maid, Yeluo’s housekeeping skills are maxed out. While I pretended to rest with eyes closed (but couldn’t bear to look), she gently finished rinsing me. Then she spent a whole hour washing and conditioning my long hair.

Long hair is such a hassle… I’d never have this patience. Once free, I’ll drag Yeluo back! Hair washing is all hers, heh heh~

“Please raise your arms a bit, Dark Lord,” Yeluo said, holding ribbons.

“Why’s this dress so troublesome! Ten minutes and still not done.” I complained but lifted my arms. Even kings bow to barbers.

Service is noblest!

“This dress has over a hundred ribbons, twenty-plus decorations, and finishing touches—every one must be perfect or it ruins the look. Three maids take fifteen minutes together. Alone, I might need five extra minutes.” Yeluo explained calmly, tying ribbons like art.

Is this bondage play? I muttered inwardly. But the dress transformed from plain to vibrant—the designer had hidden intent.

“Yeluo, you’re amazing… three people take fifteen minutes, but you finish alone in twenty?”

She beamed proudly. “Nah! Trained since childhood—my skills are maxed out!”

Don’t say my thoughts aloud!

“Learned this young, then came to the palace?”

“No.” Her pride faded. “My parents died of plague. The Church took me in. I had no magic or combat talent, so… I became a palace maid at five. I… remember their faces. Just can’t see them.” Her tone held loss and resignation, no deep sorrow.

Yeah, no one feels good after being deemed useless and kicked around like a ball…

“Yeluo, you worked hard learning maid duties,” I asked.

“You… how did you know?” She startled, looking up and pausing.

“No one accepts fate’s toys. Unliked, you gave your all for any hope.” I watched her tie the last ribbons, cinching my waist. “You wanted acknowledgment.”

“Mm.” She replied softly.

“Stay with Princess Caiwen. No matter what, care for her.” I paused. “I placed no curse—I couldn’t.”

“I know…”

“What?” Her voice was too soft.

“Nothing.” She adjusted the white rose at my waist. “Done. Satisfied?”

I walked to the mirror. A silver-haired beauty in a black gown stood there, white rose at her waist. Long hair flowed softly. Red ribbons, like blood, were violent yet elegant. The white rose seemed pure but hinted at the Reaper’s cruelty. A golden chain bound the waist like a demon’s shackle, mixing innocence with eeriness, nobility with simplicity. The blood-feather hairpin on her temple resembled a fallen blood phoenix.

“Why such a beautiful dress for a prisoner? Shouldn’t I look ragged?”

Yeluo, in maid uniform, straightened her headscarf. “Pope’s order. No one dared approach the Dark Lord… so I volunteered.”

“Does the Pope like little girls?”

“Maybe. But he said… a Dark Lord must look like one.”

A witchy route? I glanced again—this was a mature woman’s dress forced onto a loli. A loli can’t be scary unless yandere, and even then, people’d suspect the Church broke her…

“Let’s go.” I grabbed the Continent’s Brief History and followed Yeluo out.

The Hero waited at the door, asleep against the wall.

“Lott! Wake up or I escape!” I joked, tiptoeing to blow in his ear.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” He jolted awake, dodging sideways, nearly falling.

“Hey cutie, who’re you?” he teased, steadying himself.

“You’re the cutie (kick!) Your whole body’s cutie (kick!) From your ahoge cutie to stinky toenails! (triple kick!)” I punched his chest hard.

This lousy Hero’s tough as a thrice-steamed bun—impossible to hurt!

“Must you be so mad?” He rubbed his chest.

“Hmph! This little beauty’s angry—cutting ties with you!”

“What, a new position?”

“Ahhh! You perverted shut-in loli-con, ignoring you!”

(head pat)

“Eh? Stop! We agreed no touching!” I struggled inwardly—my body betrayed me…

“Relax, won’t touch your horns.” He ruffled my hair again.

“One more touch and I’m angry!” I’m so innocent! Let go, idiot!

“Alright, no more.”

“Hmph… fine. I have an appointment. Let’s go!”