Volume 3, Chapter 4 – “Could There Be Another Possibility?”

Morning light hadn’t yet broken when the golden-haired elf stirred awake. She supported herself on the bed’s edge, her slender leg dangling, and lazily yawned.

Normally at this hour, she’d slip into her sandals, brush her teeth, tame her hair, and head out for a jog.

Today was different. As soon as she set her foot down, she stepped on something soft.

“Huh?” Teresa looked down, brushed aside her bangs, and remembered the mouse incident from last night—how she’d wrestled with Yimi, even biting her thigh and drawing blood.

“Good morning, Yimi! Slept well?” Teresa beamed brighter than the sunrise.

“…”

Yimi, still exhausted from last night’s ordeal, said nothing—her expression spoke volumes.

‘Do you even have a face?’

“Oh, no comment? Guess that means you slept fine?” Teresa tossed on her slippers without unbinding Yimi before heading to the washroom.

After a casual morning routine, she dressed as if nothing had happened.

If Yimi wouldn’t speak to her, Teresa wouldn’t bother either.

“…When are you letting me go?”

“Oh?” Teresa paused, smiling at Yimi. “You said you wouldn’t talk to me. Now you’re waking up early—what changed?”

Yimi said nothing, glaring from her position.

“As the second daughter of the former Elf Empress, you have such a foul nature—no wonder Bilodis didn’t wipe you out in one go.”

“That’s the point,” Teresa said, her grin fading. “You are blaming me for letting demons into the Sacred Forest—it’s a big accusation without proof.”

As a Gold Elf, Yimi wouldn’t lie about such things. Elves saved kin instinctively, especially Gold Elves. For one to betray that bond and raise a blade… the shame must be immense.

But Teresa was clueless—she had no memories of the original Teresa doing such a heinous deed. And she found the idea unthinkable.

Bilodis’s calm reaction hinted that the original Teresa had not betrayed her kin. The Sacred Tree’s blessing remained.

Still, why had Yimi targeted her so deeply? What had happened during the Demon Invasion that drove a Gold Elf to hatred?

Also, Yimi’s presence at Coleman Academy made no sense. Gold Elves should hide, not appear publicly.

Seeing Yimi kneeling and staring up, Teresa felt a chill of foreboding. Her life began to feel orchestrated.

She closed her eyes and touched the Golden Butterfly Hairpin, pondering: Has this hairpin guided her toward memories of the original Teresa? Investigating the Empire, the persecution of heretics… were they all connected?

She thought: “Most powers in the world spring from extreme wishes.” She recalled Felicia’s words about a book in the palace library.

Why did that come to mind now?

Lost in thought, she nearly forgot Yimi was bound on the floor. Teresa looked over and excused the vines that held her.

Yimi slumped over, her body aching as if her bones were scattered.

“Yimi, we’re not enemies,” Teresa said kindly.

“…,”

Yimi stayed on the floor, silent.

“I don’t wish to hurt you. But if you don’t cooperate, I can’t help you.”

Still no response.

“I’m out of options.” Teresa produced a collar she’d won in the Golden Chalice gacha—used for controlling slaves. It would prevent Yimi from harming her.

But after a long pause, Teresa tossed it aside. “Let’s go.”

Yimi looked up in surprise.

“I said I’d keep you with me—like it or not.”

Yimi stared at the discarded collar.

“If you think you can kill me later, feel free to try.” Teresa smiled.

“Staying with me isn’t all bad,” she added. “Being close gives you plenty of chances to kill me.”

“Want to come along?” she asked.

“…Alright.” Yimi hesitated before nodding once.

Teresa removed her hairpin, revealing her black hair and youthful human guise. Dylin led Yimi out of the manor, leaving the academy behind.

Yimi trailed behind, silent and watchful.

“It’s soon to be the hottest season of the year,” Dylin remarked. Yimi didn’t reply, but he continued.

“We’re heading to the Empire’s borderlands—no easy borders these days. But thanks to Coleman Academy IDs, we’ll pass.”

They stopped before a fashionable store.

“Is this the carriage station?”

“No—it’s the most famous clothing shop in Coleman City.”

“…”

Yimi blinked.

“Your clothes got torn last night. You need a new outfit—you look like a beggar.”

Yimi raised an eyebrow.

“A courtesy to a captive?” she guessed.

“Just go with it.”

Inside, the hostess politely greeted them, even misreading them as a couple.

Yimi grimaced at the word “couple.”

“He’s my brother,” said Teresa. “She needs something appropriate.”

“Given your height, a small Lolita dress suits perfectly,” recommended the hostess.

“No.” Yimi’s lips curled at “small.”

“Don’t care for Lolita? How about a bubble dress—very cute.”

“No.”

The hostess tried again and again—everything Yimi rejected.

Finally, Dylin picked a simple dress and forced it onto her.

If they’d delayed, Yimi would’ve worn the torn one.

Elves didn’t care about modesty—but humans did.

They left the shop and headed through Coleman City’s walls toward the countryside carriage station.

A formal station required tickets. It was bustling—merchants, travelers, vendors—a mix of people.

Yimi drew stares—some admiring, others predatory.

She stiffened, her comfort vanishing among humans.

Dylin noticed her discomfort and pulled her closer into his carriage.

Yimi gasped but didn’t resist. His presence seemed to filter the crowd’s eyes.

“Stick near me if that happens again,” he advised as they settled.

“There are unsavory types here who won’t pass up an opportunity. If you’re with someone, they’ll think twice.”

Yimi tried to understand. Eventually, she asked:

“You mean they want to… mate with me?”

“…”

“Do they want to… marry me?”

Dylin fell silent. She was so innocent—like blank parchment. How couldn’t someone pure kill her own kin?

If Yimi wasn’t lying… could something be wrong with her own memories?

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