Your words only make you seem more suspicious… After giving her a once-over, Mushiyu suddenly recalled they’d met earlier today—just for a fleeting moment.

“Are you the owner of that mirror?” Mushiyu asked.

A spark lit up in Grace’s eyes. “Yes… um, may I know your name?”

Unsettled by the longing in Grace’s gaze, Mushiyu slightly turned her head away. “Mushiyu.”

“Mushiyu…” Grace murmured the unusual name softly, committing it to memory.

“What do you need?” Mushiyu asked. This was her first conversation with a human from this world. Strangely, their languages matched perfectly.

“I heard Elvenkind don’t eat human food. I worried you’d go hungry, so I brought you something.” Grace explained while lifting a food box from the table, offering it with both hands.

Caught off guard by the gesture, Mushiyu raised a hand to refuse. “We don’t even know each other. Why help me?”

A trace of panic flickered in Grace’s eyes. “Well… because we’re both human! Humans should help each other, right?”

That single line dissolved all of Mushiyu’s guard. Right—fellow humans were more reliable than elves. And this person radiated integrity, her brow carrying a hint of noble spirit. No villain here.

“Then…” Mushiyu bit her lower lip, hope shining in her eyes. “Can you take me away?”

Grace’s heart hammered wildly. She stared, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”

Seeing Grace’s hesitation, Mushiyu assumed refusal. Of course—Melissara was the Elven King, terrifyingly powerful. Who’d risk her wrath for a stranger?

“Never mind.” Mushiyu sighed, shaking her head in disappointment.

Grace felt her heart shatter. Why must such a beautiful, lovely girl wear that sorrowful expression?

Setting down the food box, Grace grabbed Mushiyu’s shoulders. When startled eyes met hers, she declared, “I’ll take you away!”

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go!” she repeated firmly.

“Aren’t you afraid… of what Melissara might do?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Grace insisted. “Whatever you wish, I’ll make it happen—no obstacle is too great!”

Mushiyu blinked. “Why are you so kind to me?”

Why? How could she explain this giddy warmth?

Grace smiled gently. “Because we’re human. If I don’t look out for you, who will?”

What a terrible excuse…

Then she saw the girl smile. A radiant bloom spread across Mushiyu’s face—like a white flower from the Beyond Sea Grace had once seen: pure, bewitching, a sight that sparked joy and a lifelong urge to protect.

“When do we leave?” Mushiyu asked eagerly.

Snapping back to reality, Grace almost said “right now” but caught a critical flaw. “Not yet.”

“Why?” Disappointment clouded Mushiyu’s eyes again.

Unable to bear that look, Grace rushed to explain. “You have no proper clothes—it’ll slow us down. And this place is too far from any major city. The Elven King faces no restrictions; escaping would be harder.”

“True.” Mushiyu glanced at her blanket-wrapped body. Running like this was impossible.

“Eat first. We’ll need full strength when we go!” Grace pushed the food box forward with a warm smile.

“Okay.” Mushiyu accepted it. “Thank you!”

Sweetness flooded Grace’s chest. She beamed. “No need—I should do this!”

“Why ‘should’? You owe me nothing,” Mushiyu said.

Grace hummed softly, offering no explanation. How could she describe this fluttering joy?

An hour later, Loran emerged from the kitchen again, carrying reheated meals toward the carriage in the courtyard. Only when she neared it did she realize—she’d forgotten to set a ward.

Foolish. Had anything happened?

She opened the carriage door. Darkness inside.

Something was wrong…

Loran’s heart clenched. The girl’s breath and heartbeat were gone.

Dropping the food box, she strode to the bed, hands sweeping the mattress. It held a faint warmth, but no curled-up figure.

“Gone… how?!” Loran lit an oil lamp, frantically searching the cramped space. Panic thickened in her eyes.

“Where could she be? Did she run? Naked, alone—where would she even go?!” she muttered angrily.

Abandoning the carriage, Loran dashed into the courtyard. Empty. Had she truly fled?

How foolish! In that state, she’d get nowhere.

Loran’s mind conjured horrors: the girl shivering and starving on streets, cornered by rogue mercenaries or adventurers, dragged off like boneless meat tossed to wolves.

Loran’s calm shattered. She screamed, “Mushiyu! Show yourself!”

“That disgusting nickname… are you calling me?”

Loran whirled around. There stood Mushiyu, wrapped in a blanket and rubbing her arms, just steps away. Loran froze.

“What are you staring at?” Mushiyu shot her a disdainful look and headed straight for the carriage.

As her foot crossed the threshold, an arm snaked around her waist. Before she could react, Loran hoisted her under one arm. Feet dangling, Mushiyu was carried like a chick and tossed onto the bed.

The mattress was soft but thin—the wooden base beneath was hard. Landing face-down, she rolled once, pain flaring through her body.

Before she could protest, her wrists were pinned above her head. A scorching body pressed down on her.

“Don’t run again,” Loran growled, voice dangerously low. “Next time, I’ll break your legs.”

Mushiyu swallowed hard, unnerved by that gaze. She huffed weakly and shut her eyes.

Ignoring her should make Loran leave… but reality disagreed. The weight remained. Her wrists stayed trapped. Hot breath brushed her cheek.

What is she doing? Why won’t she speak or move?

Mushiyu didn’t know how tempting she looked—vulnerable, ripe for the taking. In the lamplight, Loran watched her trembling lashes, the gentle rise of her chest. Her own heart raced.

Finally, Loran’s gaze locked onto the girl’s soft, pink lips.