Chapter 9: An Indirect Kiss and a Spilled Bowl

It seemed the Demon King’s castle wasn’t far from what humans called the North.

In other words, perhaps the human concept of the North was simply the region around the castle. Now that the demons had been wiped out, this land was likely being ceded to humanity. But this raised a question: why was Vilya taking us north? The Demon King was dead, which meant the Hero was no longer needed for battle on the frontier. So why travel to such a desolate, uninhabited place? Peering through a crack in the carriage, I saw not a single house from dawn till dusk. The land by the road was all barren wasteland, not farmland. There were hardly even any birds. The air outside was frigid, and though it hadn’t snowed, I could see a layer of white frost coating the ground.

We were riding in a wagon meant for supplies, filled with spare weapons for the guards. Longswords were stacked neatly in chests. After making sure the chests wouldn’t spring open, I took off my cloak and spread it over the floor and boxes to create a cushion, allowing Lia to lean back comfortably. The curtains on the sides of the wagon were thick enough to keep us warm, so aside from the bumpy ride, it was tolerable inside.

From the soldiers’ conversations, it sounded like we would reach the town by tomorrow. I couldn’t understand why Vilya was coming here. Was she under orders to guard the border? But the demons were gone. Who was she meant to fight? Was this land some sort of reward? If so, why grant her such a barren, impoverished place? It was hardly a prize.

Or perhaps… it was a place of exile.

A desolate land like this was perfect for banishing someone. Vilya was the Hero, the one specifically meant to defeat the Demon King. Now that the Demon King was dead, what use was a Hero? ‘When the cunning rabbit dies, the hunting dog is cooked. When the birds are gone, the good bow is stored away.’ With her absolute power and the people’s adoration, Vilya was now the true threat to the throne.

Sending her here made a certain kind of sense.

From what I’d observed, however, Vilya herself seemed oblivious to this. Not that I planned on telling her. Stirring up trouble between Vilya and Queen Sisi would do no one any good. ‘When the nest is overturned, no egg stays intact.’ My survival, and Lia’s, depended entirely on Vilya.

Knowing we had only one day left was a relief. At night, Lia transforms into her succubus form—or what I assume is her succubus form. If she were seen, I had no doubt Vilya would kill her without a moment’s hesitation. The longer we spent in this carriage, the greater the risk of exposure. The sooner we arrived, the safer we would be.

Lia wasn’t leaning against the chests to sleep. Instead, she sat between my legs, resting against me and chattering happily about all sorts of things. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the wagon, and Lia’s little bottom was squirming against my stomach as she recounted tales from the Demon King’s castle. But to be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to her stories. My focus was entirely on the warmth and feeling of her small body pressed against mine. Remembering her posture from last night, I felt…

“Hey, Papa, something seems to be poking me.”

Lia shifted slightly, turning to look at me with innocent eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

Her guileless gaze filled me with a shame so profound I wanted to die. I quickly caught her hand as she reached down to feel what it was.

****

The sky outside quickly darkened. The oil lamps mounted on the sides of the carriage were lit, their flames swaying with the rhythm of the horses’ hooves. We didn’t travel far into the night before coming to a stop. I peeked through the curtain and saw people bustling about, unloading supplies from the other wagons. Soon, bonfires dotted the wasteland. A soldier approached our carriage.

“The two of you can come out for a rest,” he said softly.

I looked at Lia, who gazed back at me, confused. She hadn’t transformed yet. Maybe it happened at midnight? I had no real sense of time here. In any case, it was best we ate and returned to the wagon as quickly as possible.

I jumped down from the wagon and lifted Lia out. Just then, I saw Vilya dismounting her horse. Lia immediately threw her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder. Vilya’s eyes swept over us, but she said nothing, walking over to the fire and taking a few long gulps from the waterskin at her hip.

I walked to the fire and sat down, choosing a spot far from Vilya for Lia’s sake. But then Vilya came right over to us. Lia, in my arms, began to tremble, not daring to speak. I looked up at Vilya, confused. She held her waterskin out to me.

“Have some water,” she said calmly.

I stared at the waterskin. If I remembered correctly, it had just left her lips seconds ago. A single drop of water still clung to the damp spout…

‘What is this…’

‘An indirect kiss…?’

To be fair, we hadn’t had much to drink all day. We had no waterskin of our own, after all.

I accepted it and gently brought it to Lia’s mouth, but she jerked her head away, refusing to drink. It seemed she would accept nothing from Vilya. I sighed and glanced guiltily at Vilya. Was it really okay for me to drink from this…?

Vilya didn’t seem to mind. Her gaze wasn’t on me but remained fixed on Lia. A shiver ran down my spine. Was Vilya getting angry? Was she planning to do something to Lia…? Vilya was a very serious person. If she was provoked, Lia would be in real trouble.

I brought the waterskin to my lips, my tongue unable to resist tracing the rim of the spout… In truth, I didn’t taste the water at all. There might have been a faint flavor, but it could have just as easily been my imagination.

I handed the waterskin back to Vilya. She took it and, without a second thought, put it to her lips and drank again. I was stunned. For her, something like this was clearly nothing. She hadn’t given it a second thought. Then she stood up and moved to sit on the other side of the fire.

Guards handed us two wooden bowls. A pot was already set over the fire, bubbling with the same stew we’d had that morning. Chunks of the army’s black bread had been tossed in to soften. I supposed this was the only way to make it edible.

Soon, a large ladle began making its rounds, each person receiving a scoop of stew and a large piece of bread. Lia, sitting in my lap, watched the pot with delight, eagerly waiting for the ladle to reach us. I took it and served us both. This time, it seemed we could eat our fill; even after one round, the pot was still half full.

The soldiers began to chat idly, but Vilya took no part in any conversation. She simply stared at her food and ate ravenously, her speed suggesting she couldn’t even feel the heat. I was only halfway through my bowl when Vilya had already gone back for two more helpings.

“Papa, I want more…”

Beside me, Lia, not to be outdone, held up her empty bowl. I reached over and refilled it for her. The moment I set the ladle down, Vilya picked it up and added another serving to her own bowl.

“Papa, I want more…”

I was wrong.

Even with half the stew left after the first round, it wasn’t nearly enough for Lia and Vilya. As the last spoonful remained, my parental bias took over. I reached for the ladle, hoping to claim it for Lia. But just as my hand touched the handle, another hand pressed down firmly on top of mine. I looked up in surprise to see Vilya’s clear blue eyes gleaming in the firelight.

Her gaze was intent as she spoke in her usual flat, serious tone.

“Give it to me.”

“…”

I let go. When Vilya spoke like that, I knew she meant it. Trying to take food from her felt exactly like when I’d stopped her from killing Lia. I was certain that if I argued, my head would be the next thing to fall into the pot.

“Papa…”

Terrified, Lia pulled her bowl back, tugging on my arm to pull me away.

Vilya contentedly scraped the last of the stew into her bowl. Then she glanced at the frightened Lia, hesitated for a moment, and walked over to us. She reached for Lia’s bowl, poured half of her own portion into it, and then held it out.

This was a clear peace offering! I had nearly been decapitated for fighting her over food, yet here she was, willingly sharing her portion with Lia. This had to be an olive branch.

“Wah!”

But Lia did not accept it. She let out a piercing shriek and swung her arm. Vilya, taken by surprise, couldn’t react in time. Lia’s hand slapped the bowl, sending its steaming contents splashing directly into Vilya’s face.

My heart stopped.

I instinctively pulled Lia behind me and stood up to face Vilya. The wooden bowl hit the ground with a dull thud. Vilya stood frozen, her expression still blank as the hot stew trickled down her face. All conversation around the fire ceased as everyone stared in our direction. Lia, realizing what she’d done, clutched my leg and trembled.

Alright, I needed to think.

“I’m sorry…”

The first step was to de-escalate her anger. This was a negotiation between me and Vilya, and I had to keep her from acting rashly. I didn’t know what my chances were, but a direct apology was the best place to start.

“…”

Vilya said nothing, her eyes still fixed on Lia behind me. I thought I understood what she wanted.

When you know what the other party wants, you do your best to provide it.

“Lia, apologize.”

I pushed Lia forward, but kept my hand on her shoulder, ready to pull her back if Vilya moved. Vilya looked at Lia, who was so scared she was starting to cry, her body fighting to retreat behind me. But it was clear Vilya didn’t want my apology; she wanted Lia’s. Lia sobbed softly, squirming so violently she almost threw herself on the ground. She couldn’t bear to face Vilya. The memory of being hunted and nearly killed by her was a constant nightmare.

“…Forget it.”

Seeing Lia’s tantrum, Vilya seemed to give up. She wiped her face with her hand and turned to walk away. A collective sigh of relief went through the soldiers, who offered bitter smiles before resuming their conversations. Lia’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground. I knelt beside her, and she threw herself into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Lia. I’m here for you.”

I gently stroked her back and head. She clung to my chest like a wounded animal, unwilling to let go.

It seemed the negotiations between Lia and Vilya had broken down. In diplomatic terms, Lia had failed to provide what Vilya requested, so Vilya had withdrawn from the talks. As Lia’s guardian, I had to mend this relationship if we were to have any hope of communicating with Vilya in the future.

Without her protection, we were finished. We had no one else here.

I had to fix this.

“Lia, stay in the carriage. Don’t move, and don’t come out, understand?”

I carried Lia back to the wagon and set her inside. “Papa is just going out for a minute. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Papa… don’t leave me… Papa…”

Lia immediately lunged forward, hugging my arm and sobbing. I looked at her, then reconsidered. She wasn’t going to let me leave her side right now. I decided to stay with her, get her to sleep, and then go find Vilya. I climbed into the wagon and held her tightly in my arms. Lia’s soft sobs slowly quieted as she closed her eyes, gradually drifting off to sleep…