Is it Ophelia? What’s she doing here?

A tight knot of tension coiled in Nefu’s chest. After so many days here, this was the first time Ophelia had come to her in the dead of night—and so stealthily. What could she possibly want?

Sensing something was off, Nefu closed her eyes, steadied her breath, and feigned deep sleep. She’d wait and see Ophelia’s true intent.

The girl tiptoed to her bedside. Nefu could even catch that faint, unique fragrance drifting from her.

But Ophelia did nothing. She simply stood silently beside the bed, sending an inexplicable chill through Nefu.

Nefu longed to peek—but dared not open her eyes. *Should she risk peeking with just one eye?* Ophelia’s full attention was locked on her; any slip would be disastrous.

What to do? Her breathing grew uneven. Just as Nefu nearly lost composure—Ophelia moved.

Nefu felt the blanket pull back. A slightly cold little hand settled on her calf. The sudden chill made her shiver involuntarily.

The touch was feather-light, careful not to wake her.

That restless hand didn’t linger. It traced slowly up her long, slender leg, all the way to the top of her thigh.

Just as it neared the hem of her pants—Nefu poised to “wake”—the hand stilled.

A soft chuckle reached her ears. Nefu’s heart clenched. *What’s she laughing at? Did she notice?*

Before she could think, the hand brushed her cheek.

Still impossibly gentle, like caressing a treasure. It glided along her cheek, finally resting on her cherry lips.

Her skin tingled, but Nefu held her breath, terrified of giving away the act.

Thankfully, Ophelia did nothing more. Just a quiet sigh, then the hand withdrew and retreated.

Only when the footsteps faded did Nefu exhale sharply.

Ophelia wouldn’t come without reason. Had her daytime lie been exposed? The thought spiraled darker. As panic clouded her mind, sleep washed over her like a tide.

Sunlight filtered in. Morning. Ophelia’s voice called from the hall:

“Nefu, up already! I’ll start breakfast—hurry up!”

Nefu answered with relief. *Thank goodness she didn’t push the door open.* Right now, just the thought of Ophelia made her shudder.

*Will I get a chance to sneak out and find that alchemist today?*

She bent to retrieve the milk bottle from under the bed—but her fingers met empty air.

*Did I tuck it too deep?* A cold dread shot through her. She leaped down, pressed her face to the wooden floor, peering underneath.

Empty. No bottle.

Her mind went blank. Ophelia called again.

“Right away!” Nefu scrambled to the other side of the bed. *Maybe it rolled over? Don’t panic…*

But after searching everywhere—she had to accept it.

The milk bottle was gone.

Nefu froze, as if struck by lightning. *Could Ophelia have taken it last night?*

Her face paled. If true… Ophelia knew she was investigating.

*Once a pet shows disloyalty, it gets replaced.* The thought sent violent shivers through her.

*Is this breakfast my last meal?*

“Nefu! Still not ready? Forgot how to brush your teeth? Need me to teach you again?”

Nefu bolted out. *Act normal. Maybe she’ll spare me.*

In the living room, Ophelia pulled off her apron and shot her an annoyed glance.

“Later, little Nefu, you’ll learn to cook with me. It’s your duty. Since when does a master cook for a servant?”

“Yes… I understand, Master.”

Nefu stole glances at her face. No change. Calm. Normal.

*If only it really were normal…*

She finished breakfast with trembling hands. As she reached for the dishes, Ophelia stopped her.

“Drink this. You’re still growing.”

Nefu’s stomach turned. Ophelia’s potions were always foul—but this time, her pupils widened in shock.

It was a milk bottle. Identical to the one Blackfang drank. Same label. Exact.

“Yesterday I saw you grieving for Blackfang. Thought some nourishing milk would help.”

Ophelia twisted the cap open, slid in a straw.

“M-Master, my stomach… c-could I—”

Fear cracked her voice. Her hands shook visibly around the bottle.

“Nope~” Ophelia cut her off smoothly.

“You barely ate yesterday or this morning. You need nutrition.”

She stepped closer, covered Nefu’s trembling hands with her own, steadying the bottle.

“What’s wrong, little Nefu? You *love* snacks. Didn’t you sneak out for extras before? Why so strange today?”

Ophelia’s gaze sharpened. She leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper:

“Or… do you think your master would poison your milk?”

“M-Master, I—”

All color drained from Nefu’s face. Her lips trembled.

“Enough, my dear.” Ophelia’s tone turned sweetly firm. “No more excuses. Drink it. Right here. Right now. In front of me.”