Chapter 51 : This Tifna is So Lame

Milly frowned at the sigil on her collarbone. The bath had been so peaceful, and now this thing had to ruin it with its strange, tingling pain. If it were just pain, she could endure it. But an unnatural heat began to spread through her body, a fever that had nothing to do with the warm water.

“Don’t you dare start now.”

She pressed her fingers into the burning thorns, but the heat only intensified, spreading through her veins. This had never happened before. Had Idis’s attempt to remove it awakened something?

Wave after wave of sharp stings pulsed under her skin. She dug her nails into the surrounding flesh, trying to fight it, but her right hand suddenly began to move on its own.

“Don’t move…” But her wrist, as if pulled by invisible threads, slid slowly down the curve of her body. In the steamy bathroom, Milly’s back suddenly arched.

“Stop…” Her left hand frantically grabbed her right wrist, but a second later, it too betrayed her. Its fingers traced a path up her soft, water-slicked skin. An unfamiliar, tingling numbness made a short whimper escape her throat.

“Stop… stop it!” She pressed her forehead against the cold edge of the tub, trying to shock her mind back to reason. But her hands only grew bolder. Broken gasps and splashing water echoed in the small room.

It was no use. Milly threw her head back, her skull thudding against the tub wall. The world blurred for a few seconds, then went black. She slumped into the water, her limp body sliding down until only the top half of her head remained above the surface.

When she came to, the water was mostly cold. She tried to move, but the lingering heat in her lower abdomen still pulsed, and her limbs were too sore and weak to lift. The water reflected her flushed face, her messy hair plastered to her neck like a tangled web. She tried to push herself up, but her spasming waist made her fall back again. She could only wait for her body to recover.

It should be over now.

Regaining some sensation, she touched the sigil. No reaction. The unnatural heat was finally cooling. Gasping, she pulled herself out of the tub and stumbled to the sink. The steam had mostly cleared.

In the mirror, her face was still flushed. She glanced at her collarbone. The thorn sigil was gone, like a naughty child who runs away after causing trouble. Except this trouble was a bit more… personal. It had made her, it had made her…

Ugh… thinking about what had just happened, Milly buried her face in her hands. When her burning cheeks finally cooled, she bared her little fangs at her reflection.

This had to be Stacy’s doing. She was too far away, yet her presence lingered like a ghost.

The next time she saw Stacy, she would summon Broken and give her a taste of her own medicine. The worst that could happen was being captured again.

She looked back at the cold bathwater. It was still warm enough, but after what she’d just done in it… she couldn’t bring herself to get back in. A waste. It had been so relaxing at first. Reluctantly, she drained the tub and rinsed it out.

After drying off, she put on the nightgown Tifna had given her. It was huge. The hem nearly reached her ankles, and the shoulder straps were a problem.

The right one kept slipping down. She’d pull it up, and it would immediately slide off again. The gown was too big. The slipping strap also gave a faint glimpse of her chest, but she was too flat for it to matter. Even with the gown slipping, you couldn’t see anything unless you were right up close.

Wait… Milly pinched her own cheek. Why was she even thinking about that? Her brain must still be scrambled. Yes, that had to be it.

She slapped her cheeks again. As she was about to leave the bathroom, she realized a more serious problem. Stacy had left her with only the clothes on her back. The panties she had just taken off were in the laundry bin, and Tifna had only provided a nightgown. Did that mean… she was going commando?

Her face, which had just cooled, started burning again. Asking to borrow panties was too embarrassing, but it was better than nothing. At the very least, she could wash the ones she had and dry them with fire. And her wet hair… it nearly reached her ankles. A towel wasn’t going to cut it.

Stacy, for all her perversions, was powerful. She could dry her hair instantly with magic.

Without that convenience, it was a real problem. There were no hair dryers in this world. She’d have to ask Tifna. She had long hair too; she must know what to do.

After toweling her hair as best she could, Milly went upstairs. As she reached Tifna’s door, about to knock, she heard the sound of shattering glass from inside.

“Tifna?”

Something was wrong.

Forgetting to knock, Milly tried the handle. Unlocked. She pushed the door open.

The room was dark, lit only by the faint moonlight streaming through the window.

Near the window, Tifna was kneeling in front of an armor stand, her forehead pressed against what looked like her brother’s breastplate. A shattered bottle lay beside her, a broken amulet clutched in her hand.

Torn letters were scattered on the floor, the words “I’m sorry” smeared into bloody tears by spilled wine.

“Drunk after one bottle?”

There were no other bottles in the room. And judging by the spill, Tifna hadn’t even had much.

Milly went to her. Even if she was worried about her brother, she shouldn’t torture herself like this.

As Milly helped Tifna to the bed, the flushed woman suddenly stood up. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but as she saw the moonlight fall on Milly, her mind blurred, and she instinctively pulled Milly into a hug.

“You bastard brother…”

Wait, she’s drunk, but why is she calling me that?