After leaving Melissara's room, Loran paused to think, then headed to the kitchen.

The cooks were busy at work. Lord Herman had ordered a lavish dinner for the dragon-slaying heroes, to avoid any slight. Of course, even without his command, they'd have thrown the grandest banquet for such warriors.

Adonis's threat concerned the entire continent's fate. If he fully broke the seal and opened the passage between the demon realm of Beyond Sea and the mainland, the consequences would be catastrophic. Thankfully, a group of selfless heroes had slain the black dragon, averting disaster. How could anyone not respect them?

The head chef was directing his staff when he spotted a green-haired, pointy-eared elf enter, glancing around.

Earlier, while gossiping with mercenaries, he'd learned two elves were among the heroes: one with golden hair flowing over her shoulders was Elven King Melissara; the other, with green hair tied in a large braid down her back, was guard captain Loran—surely this was her.

Weren't elves said to despise human food, always avoiding it? Why was she here?

The head chef hurried over, smiling. "Excuse me, are you Loran? How can I help?"

Loran nodded, her gaze sweeping the dishes on the stove. "I need one serving of food."

"What would you like?"

"Not for me. For a girl," Loran said. "Human."

The head chef was puzzled—why would an elf fetch food for a human?—but wisely stayed silent. "What does she enjoy eating?"

A troubled look crossed the elf guard captain's eyes. "What she likes..."

Seeing her hesitation, the chef suggested, "One veggie dish, one meat dish, and soup?"

"Do as you say," Loran agreed.

"Packed or served?"

"Packed. I'll take it."

"Right away."

As the chef turned, Loran stepped back out of the kitchen, waiting by the door. The smell of human food felt jarring to her.

Soon, a young cook ran out with a thermal box. Loran nodded, took it, and walked to the courtyard.

The horses were stabled, leaving only the carriage. After checking no one was around, Loran dispelled its barrier, opened the door, and entered.

Pitch black and silent. She closed the door, used her elf night vision to find an oil lamp, lit it, and the carriage brightened.

A small figure was curled on the bed, back to the door, head buried under a blanket, unmoving.

Loran knew she was awake—from her breathing. But the girl seemed upset, ignoring her completely.

Silently, Loran opened the thermal box. Food aromas instantly filled the air, spreading through the carriage.

The figure stirred slightly at the scent but stayed hidden.

Loran sighed softly, walked to the bed, gripped the blanket's corners, and yanked hard!

*Whoosh!*

"Ah!" Mushiyu yelped, arms crossing over her chest, legs curling up. She glared at Loran, face flushed with shame.

"What are you doing!"

Unexpectedly, her shout held a trace of sobbing.

Loran froze, seeing tear stains on Mushiyu's cheeks. A flicker of pain crossed her eyes. She reached out to wipe them away—but Mushiyu slapped her hand aside.

Snatching the blanket back, Mushiyu pulled it tight over herself, turned away, and faced the wall.

"What's wrong?" Loran asked.

No reply.

Loran didn't press. Softening her voice, she said, "Come on. Get up and eat something."

Startled by the gentleness, Mushiyu turned, staring as if at a monster.

Loran felt awkward. She rarely coaxed anyone—never, really. As elf guard captain, she intimidated more than soothed.

"His Highness sent this," Loran coughed, looking away.

The food's scent had lit Mushiyu's eyes with eagerness, but they dimmed instantly. She gave a cold "Oh" and turned back.

Loran frowned. *What did His Highness do to her? Really?*

"If you won't eat, I'll throw it out." *Gentleness doesn't suit me.*

Silence.

Loran closed the box, walked to the door, opened it, and glanced back. "Last chance: eat or not?"

Still no answer.

Anger surged in her chest. Gritting her teeth, she stared at the blanket lump. "I'm asking you!"

"...No," Mushiyu said flatly. "Feed it to the dogs."

The door slammed shut behind Loran. Mushiyu sat up, waited for footsteps to fade, then shuffled to the table. She grabbed a fruit and bit into it.

*So hungry...*

Heaven knew how badly she'd wanted to say "yes." Two days in this world—only fruits, hardtack, and bread. That food smell had made her mouth water so fiercely, she almost wagged an imaginary tail!

But the ancients said: "A scholar may be killed but not humiliated." How could she bow for a mere meal? Eating on command would make her seem weak, spineless. After what he did, he couldn't just act like nothing happened. Who did he think she was? Some obedient puppy? She was human—a dignified human!

*Still... Loran, would it kill you to coax me twice? I'm starving...*

A soft sound at the door startled her. She gulped the fruit, darted to bed, and lay still. *Loran has a conscience after all! She's back to coax me!*

The door opened and closed gently. Footsteps tiptoed closer. Mushiyu's lips curled into a smile. *Coax me, coax me! I'll eat if you do!*

But "Loran" didn't speak. Instead, a hand gently stroked her cheek.

Annoyed, Mushiyu shook her head, eyes shut. "Don't touch me!"

*Coax me already! Why touch my face?*

The hand jerked back as if shocked. After a pause, a soft voice whispered, "I thought you were asleep..."

Mushiyu froze. *That voice...*

She opened her eyes, lifting her head to stare at the human woman gazing down at her. Her mouth slowly fell open.

They locked eyes in silence. Finally, Mushiyu stammered, "Um... who are you?"

"I'm Grace," the woman said quickly. "I'm not a bad person!"