Before Ilya could get out of bed and figure out what exactly had happened and where she was, the door was suddenly pushed open.
The fool she once called Brother Hai En ran inside without wearing pants.
“Hehe, Mama, Mama.”
He clapped his hands and pointed at Ilya.
Ilya became alert at once, quickly covering her collar and shrinking back.
She had a vague guess as to who had drugged her and tied her up here.
If something truly unexpected happened, the girl would not hesitate to take the other party down with her.
But just then, a greasy, obese middle-aged man barged in and kicked the fool over.
“You worthless brat! It was bad enough you used to go wild with that brat Yige’er, but now you’ve gone stupid, and you still have to embarrass yourself in front of little Ilya.”
The man cursed and kicked the fool’s backside again, then casually tore off a piece of tablecloth to cover him.
Immediately after, the middle-aged man rubbed his hands together apologetically and bent over obsequiously toward Ilya.
“Oh dear, little Ilya, I’m sorry. Uncle Bulu was too impatient and had to bring you, the former Flower God’s bride, home to worship and beg the god’s forgiveness in that way. Actually, I already discussed this with your brother long ago. If he agreed, I could even give him the wife I picked out for Hai En—after all, that family looks down on my stupid son anyway. But your brother is just too stubborn—he even wanted to fight me.”
Bulu paused here, glancing carefully at Ilya’s expression.
“Originally, all I needed was for you to pray and ask the god to make Hai En normal again, so Yige’er could take him out to sea to do business and mess around with those alchemy techniques.” At this point, the man’s eyes reddened and he choked out, “If only everything could be like before. But why did they have to defy Lord God? In the end, one ended up stupid, the other dead.”
Ilya, who had been keeping a cold face, instantly lowered her delicate brows.
Uncontrollable sadness made her lips tremble slightly.
But she still took a deep breath and shook her head.
“Uncle Bulu, I can’t convey any words to the god. Let me go now. I want to go find Sister Shiya.”
Bulu’s expression became anxious at once.
He slapped the back of his hand.
“Why won’t you listen to reason like your brother, child?”
“Then let her go find that Shiya too, and offer everything to the Flower God.”
A calm male voice suddenly sounded from outside the door.
Bulu shuddered.
Just as he turned his head, a tremendous force slammed into him, making him see stars as he fell to the ground.
Fluite, who stood a full two meters tall and wore a black priest’s robe, his bulging muscles almost bursting the fabric, withdrew his hand.
He looked down, casting a shadow over Bulu, whose mouth and nose were already bleeding.
“How despicable. I’ve always thought you were like a fat rat, but I never expected you to covet the god’s bride.”
Cold sweat dripped from Bulu.
He shook his head frantically in denial.
“That’s not what I meant. I only wanted to enshrine the Flower God’s bride.”
Fluite said nothing.
He strode forward, stepping over Bulu, and reached for Ilya on the bed.
Just then, the fool suddenly roared and grabbed the big man’s ankle, biting down hard.
The big man’s expression did not change.
He slowly exhaled a breath, then suddenly exerted force with his foot, flinging the fool against the wall.
A crack split the roof beam, and lime dust fell in a rustle, scattering over Ilya’s hair.
She just stared blankly as the big man approached step by step, finally murmuring, “You came to choose me as the god’s bride. Are you planning to let Sister Shiya go?”
*
In another underground cell, the old village chief, his face dark, slapped the iron bars and called out to Shiya, who sat inside with her head bowed in silence.
“It’s time for you to go. Now go become the god’s bride.”
A whole night of fleeing and being trapped in this dark, cramped cell had nearly broken the girl’s spirit, and faint red veins gradually appeared in her light-golden eyes.
Yet she still sat crouched on the ground, lifted her face, and stared straight at the old village chief, her tone extremely calm.
“What happened to Ilya?”
“That’s none of your concern.” The old village chief snorted, but then added, “Once you are offered to the god as a bride, she will be safe.”
As the old man said this, his eyes were full of uncertainty and tension.
The girl saw this clearly.
She stood up slowly and calmly, gripping the iron bars tightly.
“Then, Village Chief, may I ask you one last question? Why did you arrange for me to live in Yige’er and Ilya’s house back then, instead of locking me in a dungeon like this?”
*
Meanwhile, in a clearing in the Flower Leaf Forest, after thinking all night, Elena finally stood up slowly from the stone she had been sitting on.
She walked hastily, but then suddenly stopped.
The moment she thought of meeting the girl soon, she immediately used the reflection in a puddle to tidy her messy golden hair, trying to hide the dark circles under her eyes and her haggard face.
“Elena, where are you planning to go?”
Karlen, who had come to report that external communications were connected, saw Elena’s appearance, hesitated for a moment, and immediately a suspicious look appeared in his eyes.
Elena did not hide it.
She said directly, “I’m going to find Shiya. Since she wants to go home, I’ll take her back to the Imperial Capital.”
Then, Her Highness the Princess patted Karlen on the shoulder and muttered a few absent-minded words.
“As for the political aftermath the Flower God Festival might cause later, Mr. Karlen, you will help me then, won’t you? Shiya’s parents entrusted their daughter to me. I can’t just leave her here.”
The light in her pale blue eyes dimmed bit by bit, finally condensing into an unfathomable icy abyss.
After one night, having completely laid bare her own heart, she finally recognized her own despicable and filthy nature.
Leaving Shiya in Flower God Village, cutting off all her connections to the outside world of the Empire, so she would never see Leonora again.
Even making her bound by the identity of the Flower God’s bride, restricting her freedom, forbidding her from being close to anyone.
Elena was happy to see this.
This way, it would ensure Shiya wouldn’t get caught up in the future struggle for the imperial heir.
And she herself could occasionally sneak onto the island to meet Shiya.
But if Shiya were to offer her chastity to the god…
Even if Flower God Village had promised a huge stake, as Her Highness the Princess, Elena had to reconsider the pros and cons and think whether it was really worth it.
*
“Sister Elena!”
A tiny white-haired ball of fluff happily hugged Little Elena from behind, who was wearing a black-and-white ruffled maid dress.
“Mom is so mean. I only made a tiny mistake, and she locks me in the attic.”
Her slender back was rubbed by a soft, adorable face.
Elena chuckled, first placing the tray on the table, then turned and poked Little Shiya’s head.
“Miss, you don’t study hard; you only go out to play all day. Isn’t it normal to make Madam angry?”
Little Shiya coldly slapped the little maid’s hand away, then rubbed her sore forehead while couldn’t help complaining softly.
“But I was so careful. Why does Mom still find out? Elena, quickly give me some ideas to hide it from Mom next time.”
But the attic environment was too boring.
There were no romance novels to pass the time, nor noble lady friends to chat with.
In the end, she could only hug Little Elena again and continue rubbing her cheek against her hair.
“Little maid, stay here a bit longer and keep me company.”
“Miss, I still have cleaning work to do. Madam’s confinement for you isn’t over yet…”
“No, Sister Elena. Right now, I only have you by my side, and you’re the only one who can cheer me up. Everyone is too stiff and too formal.”
Little Elena’s body paused.
She slowly reached out and gently stroked that soft, snow-white hair.
This time, Little Shiya did not resist and push her away.
Every time Little Shiya was punished or wronged, she would come to Little Elena to cry and act spoiled.
As the maid, Little Elena would coax and indulge her over and over.
Sunlight streamed through the attic’s louvered windows, casting beams of light that illuminated the dust floating over the dull floor.
It cast a hazy, warm, aged filter over the two girls huddled together in the small attic.
But just as Little Shiya closed her eyes, immersed in this brief moment of peace, that Sister Little Elena, whom she had picked up from the streets, the corner of her mouth actually curled into a smug arc.
The young miss would probably never know, even unto death, that it was actually her who had been tattling to Madam all along.