Chapter 22: A Shared Bed and Lingering Questions

That night, in a guest room at the manor.

Levi—or rather, Alice, as she should now be called—lay on the bed, her gaze fixed on the embroidered canopy from which the bed curtains hung.

This was her first time sleeping in such a luxurious bed. The mattress was so soft it felt as though it might swallow her whole, and the pillows were no different. Before this, she had only ever slept on hard plank beds or straw piles in fodder rooms.

Yet, despite such comfort, sleep utterly eluded her, for there was another person sharing the bed.

“Aren’t you sleeping?” she heard Queen Isola, who lay beside her, ask.

Alice turned her head, glancing at Her Majesty. “Like this, I truly can’t sleep. You really don’t mind at all?”

Isola let out a long, weary sigh. “Now we are both girls; what is there to mind? I haven’t closed my eyes in three days and three nights. Even I can’t endure it any longer. My apologies, I’ll sleep first. Goodnight.”

With that, she turned over, her back to Alice. Before long, Alice heard her breathing become even and deep.

Alice stared at Isola’s long red hair fanned across the pillow, inhaling the faint, elusive scent of flowers. Then she shifted her gaze back to the canopy, continuing her sleepless vigil.

Why she was sharing a bed with Isola, she wondered…

****

Two hours earlier—

“What do you mean there’s only one guest room available? You’d better give me a reasonable explanation.” Isola stared at the Duchess, her expression displeased.

“After the Duke’s passing, I hired people to renovate the manor. The rooms not currently in use were mostly cleared out. Tonight, we only had time to prepare one guest room. So, I apologize, but you’ll have to make do with sharing a room with Alice for now,” the Duchess said with a beaming smile.

“Enough. Are you actually using such a tired excuse as ‘only one room’?” Isola sighed. “Don’t I know you well enough? Stop messing around!”

She knew her mentor’s mischievous streak all too well. Ever since Patra had guessed about her and Levi, she had seized every opportunity to tease her.

“Surely there are servants’ rooms available,” Alice said.

“Are there?” The Duchess glanced at the Butler standing nearby.

The Butler paused, then immediately understood, replying with a firm voice, “I am truly sorry, there are none.”

The Butler was unaware of Isola’s true identity, assuming her to be merely a past acquaintance of the Duchess. To him, the Duchess’s commands were absolute.

“Then I’ll sleep with you, that should be acceptable,” Isola said, enunciating each word as she stared at the Duchess.

“Oh, that won’t do. After the Duke passed, I replaced the bed in my room with a single,” the Duchess replied, covering her mouth with a laugh.

Isola rubbed her temples. Patra and she shared a close relationship, and such teasing was common even when Isola was Queen. Had she been a capricious tyrant, Patra wouldn’t have survived to this day, even with ten heads.

It was then that Alice unexpectedly spoke. “Actually, I could also sleep in the warehouse or the fodder room.”

At her words, silence fell over the room, and everyone present turned their attention to her.

“Oh dear, are you… angry?” the Duchess asked, a touch of awkwardness in her voice.

“No, I’m serious. With a little tidying, I can sleep anywhere,” Alice calmly replied. “I used to sleep in the academy’s fodder room. If you just flatten the straw and cover it with a cloth, it’s actually quite alright… What’s wrong with all of you?”

Her words left everyone present speechless. The Butler beside them couldn’t help but inwardly marvel at the hardships this young woman must have endured.

After a long moment, Isola sighed. “You’ll sleep with me after all.”

“I…”

Alice started to speak again, but the Duchess interjected, “Since she’s agreed, you shouldn’t refuse.”

She then turned to the Butler, instructing him to have the guest room properly prepared and to heat the bathwater for their two guests.

After the Butler departed, the Duchess leaned closer to Isola and whispered, “It was just a small jest, please forgive me, Your Majesty. I actually arranged for her to sleep beside you in hopes that you might have a chance to foresee her future.”

“Foresee?” Alice overheard the Duchess’s words.

“Indeed, a witch’s powers include the ability to foresee,” the Duchess explained to her. “This ability can be actively manifested through divination, peering into desired truths and futures. However, it’s highly taxing. Your Majesty has not yet fully recovered from the influence of the Holy Marks, and has also expended power to create a familiar. It’s likely you won’t be able to use divination for some time, so we can only hope for the foresight ability to be passively triggered, perhaps through prophetic dreams. Passive triggers for foresight are highly coincidental; the more you interact with Her Majesty, the greater the probability of a premonition concerning you appearing.”

Isola glanced at the Duchess. She knew the Duchess hadn’t explained everything fully. The probability of passive foresight occurring, aside from one’s own death, actually depended on the witch’s desire to know that answer. The more a witch cared about someone, the easier it was to see futures related to that person.

“Are you specifically trying to foresee my future to see if my mission will succeed?” Alice seemed to understand the Duchess’s objective.

“Precisely. The success or failure of your mission directly impacts His Majesty’s smooth advancement. With such high risks, it’s always best to be cautious,” the Duchess nodded.

“You are also a witch, why don’t you actively divine my future?” Alice asked.

“My rank cannot divine so far into the future,” the Duchess said, shaking her head with a smile. “Moreover, if a higher-ranked blessed one interferes, my divination would fail.”

“Ultimately, it’s just a gamble; there’s no need to hold too much hope,” Isola stated flatly. “Let’s go see the guest room first.”

****

Returning to the present, Alice remained lost in thought, utterly devoid of sleep.

Sharing a bed with Isola made her incredibly nervous. She recalled the events between herself and Isola, and Isola’s seemingly indifferent yet occasionally attentive and peculiar attitude towards her.

She wasn’t entirely oblivious in such matters, but she hadn’t interacted with many women and truly couldn’t discern Isola’s true feelings for her. She could only tell that Isola was doing her best to avoid topics concerning their relationship.

In some ways, she had saved Isola, but conversely, Isola had ultimately rescued her from that deadly predicament. So, they should have been even long ago.

That ritual… Alice suspected she might have had some intimate contact with Isola, but before that, they had no emotional foundation whatsoever.

Isola’s peculiar attitude had naturally led her to a conjecture: ‘Could Isola like me?’

But she quickly reminded herself not to be too presumptuous. Isola saving her was most likely out of a desire to repay a debt, driven by a sense of obligation to have intimate contact with a stranger. It would be good enough if the other party didn’t feel disgusted.

‘Best not to overthink it…’

Alice turned over, her back to Isola, trying to clear her mind.

It took her a considerable amount of time to finally find a faint hint of drowsiness.

However, that hint of sleepiness didn’t last long, for she felt a warm touch against her back—Isola had turned over at some point and was now pressed against her.