"Nothing to be done about it. I’m old, and all I’ve got left are these so-called ‘lowbrow amusements’."

I grinned at Hawthorn before me.

"Alright, I understand."

Hawthorn stared at me, silent for a few seconds, then gave a slow nod.

"But I don’t know what counts as truly pitiful begging…"

"…You’re not lying to me, are you?"

"No."

Hawthorn replied flatly, expression rigid.

"I was just ‘born’ recently. You know how it is."

"Oh… Right. That *is* a problem…"

I rubbed my chin, thinking hard. She wasn’t wrong—freshly awakened like her, Hawthorn was as clueless as Ona in her own way.

"Let me figure this out… Ah! Didn’t you follow me around everywhere just a few days ago?" An idea struck me. *No way am I performing that myself.*

"Huh? Yeah…" Hawthorn blinked. "What about it?"

"Remember those guys who begged for mercy before dying?" My smile brightened. "Just copy their expressions and tone… Yeah. Soften it a bit, relax it. Should be close enough."

"…Really?" Hawthorn’s eyes flickered as she recalled the scene. "Got it. Mimic them exactly, right?"

"Mhm."

I nodded, already anticipating her performance. *What face and voice would she use to satisfy me?*

*Haa…*

Hawthorn took a slow, deep breath, gathering emotion.

"P-Please, Dark Lord… help my master…"

Her eyes opened wide, brimming with heartbreaking vulnerability. Her voice turned soft, honeyed—a whisper that could melt any man’s resolve.

"…Again."

"Please, Dark Lord…"

"Again."

"…P-Please…"

"Again."

"…Ugh… *Please*, Dark Lord…"

Each repetition made her voice silkier, more heart-wrenching. I savored every note. Not a trace of impatience crossed her face—in fact, she seemed to lean into it, adjusting her tone desperately to please me. By the end, tears glistened at the corners of her eyes.

"Enough."

The moment those tears appeared, I called stop. Truth was, her first attempt had already been perfect. But I’ve always had a mischievous streak—I needed my fill.

"…You did that on purpose."

Hawthorn wiped her tears away. Her pitiful expression vanished, replaced by icy calm. But her lips pressed into a tiny pout—a silent accusation. *She knew she’d been toyed with.*

To me, she’d never looked cuter.

"Yep. Absolutely." I grinned, then lunged forward, ruffling her hair before she could react.

"Since you humored my little request, I’ll keep my promise. Rest somewhere for now. Tomorrow morning, I’ll return your master—good as new."

I pulled my hands back after a few seconds. Hawthorn stood frozen, hair tousled, utterly bewildered.

*Ugh… Old habits die hard. I know I shouldn’t pat her head yet—not while she’s still ‘Hawthorn’—but my hands just move on their own! Gotta break this…*

I turned toward Lily’s room, rubbing my palms together to soothe the sting of positive energy burns.

*Seeing Hawthorn that adorable… how could I resist?*

I muttered to myself, already planning how to calm little Lily down next.