Chapter 44: Nighttime Anecdotes

Olivia turned around.

The white nightgown rustled softly against the pink sheets.

The collar was trimmed with a circle of delicate lace, the cuffs gathered into tiny ruffled edges, and the hem reached her calves.

The fabric was light and soft, cool against her skin.

Silver hair slid from her shoulders, falling over her chest.

Then she saw Prunier.

‘Wasn’t she here just a moment ago? Does Prunier respawn at this exact spot?’

Prunier was lying on her side on the other side of the bed, propping her head up with one hand.

Her red twin tails were spread across the pink pillow.

She wore a red spaghetti-strap nightgown, the hem so short it barely covered the tops of her thighs.

Red eyes were staring at her, lips curled upward.

She had no idea how long Prunier had been watching.

“Huh.”

“What’s wrong, little Olivia?”

Prunier’s voice carried the lazy quality unique to just waking up, her syllables drawn out long like melted sugar slowly dripping from a spoon.

“It’s… nothing.”

Olivia looked away.

Her silver eyes fixed on the pink chandelier on the ceiling.

Two years ago at the Silver Dragon King’s Palace, whenever she tried to slip away from the garden, Prunier would always pop out from some corner.

Sometimes from behind a silver-leaf tree, sometimes from beside the fountain, and once even from the rosebushes behind her—

Covered in petals and dirt, smiling like a cat that had stolen a fish.

Then she’d grab Olivia’s hem.

“Play with me a little longer.”

She turned her face back, meeting Prunier’s gaze.

Then she put on an expression that said, “Do whatever you want, just get it over with.”

Chin slightly raised, lips pressed into a line, silver eyes staring straight into Prunier’s red ones.

But the tips of her ears were slowly turning red.

Starting from the earlobes, spreading upward to the auricles, like a drop of red ink falling into clear water.

Both hands clutched the lace trim of her nightgown collar, her knuckles white from gripping.

Prunier tilted her head.

Red twin tails slid off the pillow, draping over her bare shoulders.

“What is little Olivia thinking about?”

She reached out, her index finger pressing lightly against Olivia’s forehead.

“Just like before, right?”

“Before… what before?”

“You used to stick yourself onto me during thunderstorms.”

Olivia’s face went from light pink to deep red.

Her silver eyes widened, her lips opening and closing, opening and closing.

“Th-that was a whole year ago…”

“A year and two months.”

“…Can you not tell anyone?”

Her voice was as soft as a mosquito’s.

Silver hair fell forward, covering her face, leaving only her earlobes visible, red and translucent.

Prunier watched her.

Watched the small patch of flushed cheek visible through the gaps in silver strands.

Then she buried her face in the pillow, her shoulders shaking violently.

The pink pillow trembled with her laughter, red twin tails sliding off the pillow, hanging over the edge of the bed, swaying with each laugh.

“Heh… hahahaha…”

She laughed until she couldn’t breathe, lifting her face from the pillow, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Little Olivia, you’re still as adorable as ever.”

Her red eyes moved down from Olivia’s face.

The white nightgown collar.

The lace trim.

Lower.

“And you’ve developed nicely, too.”

Olivia looked down at her own chest.

White nightgown, lace trim.

She suddenly covered her chest, crossing both hands over the collar, fingers spread wide as if protecting some rare treasure.

“D-don’t look.”

“It’s fine. We’re both girls.”

Prunier withdrew her gaze, her red eyes curving into crescent moons.

She reached out, her five fingers clawing at the air as if savoring some sensation.

“I’ve already had a firsthand feel of them. I won’t miss it that much.”

Olivia buried her face in her hands covering her chest.

Silver hair slid from her shoulders, spreading over the white nightgown.

The tips of her ears peeked out through the strands—

No longer red, but something close to burning.

Prunier had enough of laughing.

She fluffed the pillow and propped it against her lower back, red twin tails hanging down on both sides of her shoulders.

She reached out and brushed the silver hair covering Olivia’s face behind her ears.

Her fingertips grazed the burning-hot auricles, and Olivia’s shoulders flinched.

“Oh, right. Little Olivia.”

“What?”

“What were you doing running out alone? Shouldn’t a girl stay at home nicely?”

Olivia lifted her face from her hands.

Her silver eyes blinked, the red afterglow still not entirely faded from her cheekbones.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Me?”

Prunier pointed at her own nose with her finger.

“I’m older than you.”

“Only two years older.”

“Two years is still older. One day is still older.”

Prunier moved her finger from her nose and poked Olivia’s forehead.

“So, did you run away because the Queen was too strict on you?”

Olivia was silent for a moment.

Her silver eyes flicked to the side, then back.

“I… guess so.”

She said it vaguely.

Because in truth, the Silver Dragon Queen’s affection for Olivia couldn’t be summed up as “strict.”

Astrid never restricted her outings, never forced her to study subjects she wasn’t interested in, and never confiscated her charcoal pencils for drawing weapon blueprints.

Her only requests were—

“Come back before dark.”

“Eat before going out.”

“Take this—put it on if you’re cold.”

Then she’d stuff a neatly folded little silver-white cloak into Olivia’s hands.

Olivia wasn’t spoiled either.

She just didn’t know how to face that kind of affection.

She used to be a dragon slayer, had built a Dragon Slayer Gun, had killed Silver Dragon guards.

She simply wasn’t used to it.

The Silver Dragon Queen’s only form of punishment was probably tickling.

Whenever Olivia got into trouble—

Using ancient books from the palace library as table leg pads, using Astrid’s Frost Crystal for heat dissipation experiments, digging holes in the garden to plant radishes only to pierce the basement dome—

Astrid would smile, pull her onto her lap, and press all ten fingers into her sides.

Then Olivia would laugh until she couldn’t breathe, silver hair whipping across the carpet, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes, legs kicking wildly.

She’d try to resist, but the Silver Dragon Queen was much stronger.

Every time, she’d be utterly subdued—

Because she had no strength left to struggle.

Laughing until her entire body went limp, she’d collapse in Astrid’s arms, silver eyes rolling back, throat emitting broken gasps.

Then Astrid would stop, pick her up, and pat her back.

“Will you do it again?”

“…No.”

“Good girl.”

“So why did you run out alone?”

Prunier tilted her head, red twin tails sliding off her shoulders.

“Me?”

She patted the pillow twice.

“It’s a bit complicated. I had a disagreement with my mother.”

She finished speaking and shut her mouth, showing no intention of continuing.

Her red eyes stared at the rotating plush bear on the pink chandelier.

‘Alright,’ Olivia thought.

‘Red dragons all have hot tempers. Red Dragon Queen Yigenikesi’s temper is especially hot. The entire Dragonrest Mountains knows that the Red Dragon Queen’s roar can shake the snow off the peaks.’

Prunier’s temper wasn’t bad either—

Not with the way she’d ridden the Blue Dragon Prince, punching him over and over as she fell.

A mother-daughter argument probably wasn’t a calm sit-down-tea-and-talk affair.

She didn’t press.

“Go to sleep. You must be tired.”

Prunier pulled the thin blanket up, covering Olivia to the chest.

One by one, the little rabbits on the blanket edge disappeared beneath the white nightgown collar.

“C-can you move farther away…”

“Alright, alright.”

Prunier scooted to the other side of the bed.

Red twin tails slid off the pillow, hanging over the edge.

Between her and Olivia was about a pillow’s width of space, the pink sheets forming a long empty strip.

Olivia closed her eyes.

Silver lashes drooped, casting a small shadow on her cheekbones.

The white nightgown collar rose and fell gently with her breath.

A year and two months.

Prunier remembered that exactly.

She turned over, silver hair spreading across the pink pillow.

How she’d fallen asleep afterward, she didn’t know herself.

She only remembered her consciousness growing hazier, lighter.

The plush bear on the pink chandelier stopped spinning.

Prunier’s breathing came from the other side of the bed—

Steady, carrying the unique warmth of a red dragon.

She moved toward that warmth.

Her forehead pressed against Prunier’s shoulder.

Silver hair and red twin tails tangled together.

The hem of the white nightgown brushed against Prunier’s red spaghetti-strap nightgown.

An arm wrapped around Prunier’s waist.

Prunier opened her eyes.

Red eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.

She looked down at Olivia’s silver head pressed against her shoulder.

Silver strands tickled her chin, itchy.

The white nightgown collar had slipped to the side, revealing half a pale collarbone.

Prunier didn’t move.

She pulled the thin blanket up, covering Olivia’s exposed shoulder.

The little rabbit on the blanket edge rested quietly on the back of her hand.

Red twin tails and silver hair spread across the pink pillow into one tapestry, indistinguishable strands.