Sensing something was wrong with the person in her arms, Melissara’s intoxicated gaze slowly cleared. Reluctantly, she licked the girl’s swollen, reddened lips before sitting up from the bed.

She checked Mushiyu’s breathing—nothing amiss. Gently stroking the sleeping girl’s rosy cheeks, Melissara’s eyes flickered with a trace of a smile. Her index finger lightly tapped her own lips, savoring the recent taste. After a moment, she stood, covering Mushiyu’s fair thighs and alluring collarbone—exposed during the struggle—with a blanket. One last glance at the peaceful sleeping face, then she stepped out of the carriage.

Nearby, a golden-haired youth chatted with Loran. Spotting Melissara, his eyes instantly brightened.

“Your Majesty, the Elven King, it’s a profound honor to meet you. I am Herman. His Majesty sent me to welcome you all,” the youth bowed gracefully, smiling with dignified ease.

Loran glanced at Melissara, then guiltily averted her gaze.

After calming down, Loran had sorted two things: first, Princess Melissara was fascinated by the human girl’s body; second, inexplicably, she herself cared deeply about the girl.

A woman’s interest in another woman’s body wasn’t unheard of, but rare. Yet Loran—who? Captain of the Elven Forest Guard, a century older than Melissara, seasoned from border patrols and foreign missions—had seen it all. She felt no urge to dissuade the princess. If Her Highness desired it, so be it.

The problem lay with herself. Analyzing her own turmoil, Loran admitted she’d grown overly fixated on the girl. Initially, she’d blamed the girl’s mysterious origins. But after today, she had to confront a mortifying truth: her every action—seeking the girl’s smile, craving her attention, even wanting to touch her—mirrored a lovestruck boy’s antics. This left Loran utterly flustered.

Beyond the girl’s strange birth, Melissara’s own interest made it worse. Loran had witnessed the princess’s reaction—being banished from the carriage proved how fiercely Melissara guarded her. How could Loran covet what belonged to her sovereign? This disrespect bred guilt, yet she couldn’t suppress it.

Melissara eyed Loran’s odd behavior, then nodded slightly at Herman. “Troublesome of you.”

“My duty, Your Majesty. Please follow me—lodging and food await,” Herman smiled warmly.

Soldiers flanked the caravan in two lines. Herman mounted a white horse, leading them into Magestown. Townsfolk and adventurers, thrilled by news of the dragon-slaying heroes, crowded the streets. They cheered wildly, showering the caravan with reverent gazes.

Edmund and his companions waved from carriage windows, beaming. Only Grace sat motionless inside, lost in thought.

Her triumph had vanished, replaced by emptiness. Her heart was in chaos.

She glanced back at the elven carriage—occupied by a human girl. The bitterest irony? The Elven King barred her, another human, from seeing her.

Who was that girl? Why did the Elven King confine her? Why did Grace ache to be near her?

These questions gnawed at Grace’s nerves, clawing her heart, fueling an urge to uncover the truth.

Edmund turned, puzzled by Grace’s daze. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off since earlier.”

Grace startled, lifting her head slowly. After a pause, she murmured, “That girl…”

“Hmm?” Edmund urged her on.

Swallowing hard, Grace’s eyes hardened. “I want to bring her over.”

Edmund blinked in confusion. “Which girl? Bring who over?”

“The one born from the egg,” Grace insisted. “She’s human—why should elves decide her fate? I’ll find a chance to—”

“Whoa, whoa!” Edmund stared, shocked. “Are you mad? That’s Adonis’s egg! Who knows what she really is!”

“She’s not a thing,” Grace snapped. “She’s human!”

Edmund took a deep breath, pacing the carriage twice before stopping. “I refuse! Jack, David—they’ll all refuse too. Listen, that girl’s a live bomb. I won’t let you keep such danger close.”

“Impossible!” Grace cried. “Her eyes were so pure—a sweet child. How could she be a ‘bomb’?”

“What?” Edmund gaped. “You’ve seen her?”

Grace nodded, a faint smile touching her lips as she recalled the girl’s innocent expression. “Yes. We locked eyes. She’s adorable.”

“Gods…” Edmund slapped his forehead, speechless.

They’d all agreed: avoid the mysterious girl, dump her on the Elven King. Grace had consented—yet now she’d reneged, even sneaking a meeting. It stunned him.

Seeing Grace’s tender smile, Edmund felt a strange unease—as if facing a woman head-over-heels in love.

“Fine, fine. We’ll discuss this later—with Jack and David. It’s critical; we must be cautious. Until then, no rash moves!” Edmund conceded, but his tone turned stern.

Grace nodded, though her heart itched like cats were scratching it.

The caravan reached Herman’s lodgings. Melissara cast a barrier over Mushiyu’s carriage, then headed upstairs. Herman had arranged separate rooms for her and Loran; after settling the elves, he left to attend to others.

Soon after, Loran slipped from her room into Melissara’s.

“Your Highness, what is it?” Loran asked respectfully.

“Didn’t I forbid you from acting on your own?” Melissara sat by the window, gazing at the night, her voice icy.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I found bruises circling Rain’s wrists earlier. Explain.” Melissara’s gaze shifted to Loran, pressure thickening the air.

Rain? The girl’s name? Loran realized she didn’t even know it…

Loran lowered her head, hiding her flustered eyes. “I didn’t realize her fragility. My grip slipped.”

Melissara studied her, probing. Loran kept her head down, bangs shadowing her face.

After a long pause, Melissara looked away. “Bring her food and water. Dismissed.”

Loran exhaled quietly, turning to leave—then hesitated. “The barrier…”

“The Withered Leaf Lock. You can undo it.”

“Yes,” Loran nodded.