After Sophia and Yugo thanked her, the man’s wife led them to a small room—slightly worn but warmly kept.

In one corner stood a wooden plank bed topped with a thin cotton pad.

For a village like this, such comfort was already considered “luxurious.”

The floor and bedding were spotless, clearly tended with daily care.

Sophia recalled what the middle-aged man had mentioned… about his child…

Seeing this unused yet meticulously clean room stirred a faint ripple in her heart.

But she suppressed it instantly, restoring calm.

The world held countless tragedies—many had no time left to spare sympathy for others.

“You sleep here, young lady,” the man’s wife said gently to Sophia, then turned to Yugo, still clutching her robe. “Come with me. I’ll find you a room right next to your sister’s.”

“But…”

“Hehe, don’t worry,” she added softly, voice warm like soothing a child.

After a calm glance from Sophia, Yugo nodded and followed her out.

Sophia watched him leave slowly—she genuinely didn’t care if he’d be deceived.

She closed the door, bypassed the bed, and sat on a slightly worn stool instead.

“Little Princess, find anything?”

An leaped from her arms, spread his tiny dragon wings, and settled onto the bed.

Sophia glanced at him but said nothing.

“I noticed something… but can’t confirm yet,” she murmured, gazing out at the star-dusted, crystal-clear sky.

“Aren’t you the mighty dragon who boasts of power? See nothing?”

“…I… Something here blocks my senses. What I perceive… is exactly what you see.”

“Hmph… So this is the dragon race…”

“…”

Sophia shot him a mocking look, removed her black robe, and folded it neatly on the table.

She sat back on the stool. Today had been utterly exhausting.

Knock, knock, knock—

Right on cue. No need to guess—dinner was ready.

Thankfully, this “lunch” held no oddities: simple dark bread, thick pea soup, a small wedge of cheese.

“Where are you two fleeing from?” the middle-aged man asked warmly.

Yugo’s mouth was stuffed with bread. He tried swallowing but choked slightly.

Sophia paused thoughtfully, recalling a war near the time of “Duke Yina’s Rebellion” from history texts.

“We… came from Duke Michael’s lands. He secretly raised taxes by twenty percent… We… just couldn’t bear it anymore… had to flee…”

Tears glistened in her eyes—fragile, pitiful.

“What nonsense are you spouting?” the wife chided her husband gently, then soothed Sophia. “Don’t cry, dear. It’ll be alright. Eat up! I promise—today’s soup is my best yet.”

The man shot Sophia an apologetic look, scratched his head awkwardly, and muttered:

“I just wondered where they’re from. A stranger arrived yesterday… maybe they fled the same place…”

“Less talk,” his wife whispered, patting his shoulder before handing bread to Sophia and Yugo.

*Why is Elder Sister Sophia lying?*

Yugo swallowed hard, puzzled. He wasn’t foolish—he knew she lied.

But why deceive these kind villagers?

…Never mind. She must have her reasons.

The little boy thought quietly.

Sophia ignored their reactions. A new doubt stirred within her.

So… this village truly was strange. Time really had frozen at a moment ten years ago.

Her question was merely a probe. Still, his answer left her slightly startled.

After lunch, Sophia and Yugo returned to their rooms—bone-tired.

The moon hung high. Cool light spilled through the window. Drowsiness dulled her thoughts.

She even subconsciously ignored the whispers—

“…And my dinner?”

“Sleepy…”

“…So, Little Princess, you forgot me completely?”

“Sleepy…”

“Hey!”

“…”

“…”

Under the moonlight, the girl’s lashes fluttered once. A faint smile touched her lips. Her breathing slowed, even and deep.