A small hand pushed aside the carriage curtain before its owner could act. Lingling ushered Lenna into the returning magic-powered carriage, opened the skylight for fresh air, and finished all the preparations.

Today’s storm had finally calmed.

Students across the academy needed time to digest the explosive revelations, while Lenna—her mission accomplished—retreated like a strategist behind the frontlines, calmly observing the unfolding chaos...

"Did you give her the scroll?"

"Gave it!"

Her fluffy tail swayed eagerly.

The little fox maiden anticipated praise.

Somehow, without realizing it, she’d grown greedy.

How strange.

Just one day had passed, yet her bond with Lenna had skyrocketed. Was this normal?

"Good girl, Lingling."

Lenna rewarded her as promised, her voice free of reluctance—though a flicker of wistfulness crossed her own face first.

"Ehehe..." Lingling’s fox ears drooped shyly. She shook snow-dusted fur from their tips, then asked tentatively, "Did Lingling... help Miss today?"

"Yes."

Lenna lifted the tiny fox maiden onto her lap. The tenderness she withheld from Angela flowed freely toward Lingling now.

"That older sister cried so hard at first," Lingling murmured, empathizing deeply. "After seeing your scroll, she looked even more heartbroken..."

Perhaps because they were close in age, Lingling understood Angela’s sorrow intimately—as if fearing abandonment by Lenna herself. The helplessness of watching life slip through one’s fingers had rooted itself in her heart.

Lenna’s glasses flashed. "She deserved it."

"Mm..."

Foxfolk intuition was sharp. Lingling instantly caught the shift in Lenna’s tone and dropped the sensitive topic.

*Miss and Miss Angela must have quarreled,* she guessed silently. *A lovers’ spat?*

Lifting her gaze, Lingling studied Lenna’s face. The thick-rimmed glasses didn’t hide her features—they framed them, lending scholarly charm to her sharp eyes. Her chestnut braid coiled like ivy over a chest straining against her blouse...

*I yearn to bury my face there and cuddle!*

Lingling’s cheeks flushed. She shook her head hard, banishing the impossible thought.

She was already so happy.

Cuddling freely in Lenna’s arms? That would be like a daydream—utterly unrealistic...

*This is enough.*

Lingling stood, poured steaming tea, and tiptoed over. "Is Miss thirsty? Lingling learned many serving skills from Sister Jian... Tonight... um... may Lingling visit your room later?"

Her feathery eyelashes fluttered. The little fox maiden blushed, stretching her tail proudly to show off her "strength."

She mimicked her father’s courtship gestures toward her mother—unconsciously, instinctively. She didn’t know why she acted this way, only that her overflowing affection demanded closeness...

"May I, Miss?"

Her pleading eyes shimmered with hope.

Who could refuse a fluffy, yearning fox maiden offering herself?

"Not tonight, I’m afraid."

Lenna sipped her tea calmly, delivering the verdict with polite regret.

"Oh..."

The little fox maiden deflated. She curled into the carriage corner, silent.

Her hard-won confidence shattered. She needed to hug her tail and recover.

*Will there be enough tail fur to soothe me?*

"I’ve arranged a music teacher for you. She arrives tonight. You’ll study under her—no laziness. I’ll inspect your progress weekly. Understood?"

"A teacher?"

At the sacred word, Lingling’s tail whipped excitedly. "Can Lingling... go to school?"

In this world, slaves had no right to formal education—unless their master permitted it.

Some nobles even invited slaves to dine at their tables, but such kindness was rare.

Most masters—like "Lenna" before—were cold and cruel, treating slaves as beasts of burden or chamber pots for venting lust and rage.

*Break one? Just buy another from the slavers...*

Lenna crossed her silk-stockinged legs, gazing down imperiously. "She’s near your age. My junior at the academy. You’ll have much to discuss."

She added, almost as an afterthought: "Study hard. Don’t waste my coin. Advance your skills. Prove your worth to the Falmore Family."

"Thank you, Miss!"

The little fox maiden bounced with joy.

Three steps became one as she danced in foxfolk delight.

Her tail brushed gently against Lenna’s cheek, then stilled on the floor like a devoted pet. She dipped to kiss the tip of Lenna’s shoe, her childish face radiating pure devotion.

*She’d found her purpose.*

*Find Mama. Return home. Live with Miss forever...*

"Don’t thank me. I’m squeezing every drop of value from you," Lenna remarked dryly.

*In my old world, they’d hang me from lampposts for this.*

"Miss is good!" Lingling declared with absolute certainty.

"I whipped you days ago. Humiliated you. Now I’m kind, and you call me ‘good’? Isn’t that ironic?"

Lenna scoffed. *Call someone ‘good’ for basic decency? No wonder slavers tricked you from your homeland.*

*Such a naive little thing...*

"When Miss whipped Lingling, you weren’t the same Miss!" Lingling stamped her foot—a foxfolk gesture of earnest protest.

Lenna’s interest piqued. "How was I different?"

"..."

She couldn’t explain.

Her vocabulary barely reached primary school level; she couldn’t even write her own name.

*Literacy will be her first battle,* Lenna mused. *A long road ahead.*

"How fares the fleet across the sea?"

Lenna’s casual question referred to the Falmore armada stationed near the western shores of Yisini Continent. By the time they returned for the civil war, the Falmore name would likely be ashes—a ruin of broken walls and empty halls.

Early contact was essential.

Whether they made it back mattered less.

Those warships were the Falmore Family’s foundation in the Empire—the very power that made even the Empress wary.

The First Empire itself was built on the cannons of hundreds of magic-powered battleships, including the land beneath their feet now.

Lenna knew such glory was hollow praise. Yet even a drop in that ocean couldn’t remain untouched by its current.