Chapter 25: I want to strangle her neck~

Duoluosa’s fingers tightened around Liang Lai’s neck, her breath ragged.
The warmth of the Saintess’s skin, the faint pulse beneath her touch, sent a shiver through her.
Her mind swirled with conflicting emotions—guilt, desire, and a strange, possessive thrill.

This… isn’t just gratitude, is it?

She pulled back slightly, staring at Liang Lai’s serene face, her silver hair fanned across the pillow.
The sight was almost too much.
Duoluosa’s heart pounded, her cheeks burning hotter.

What am I doing?

She released Liang Lai’s neck, her hands trembling as she tucked them against her chest.
The urge to mimic the twins’ obsessive actions lingered, but shame surged stronger.

“I… I can’t be like them,” she whispered, voice cracking.
“Liang Lai trusts me. She believes in me.”

She glanced at the door, half-expecting Asteris and Delucia to slink back, their mocking smiles ready to taunt her.
But the room was silent, save for Liang Lai’s steady breathing.

Duoluosa slid off the bed, kneeling beside it, her forehead resting against the edge.
Her blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she murmured.
“I don’t want to be like them… or like Claudius.”

The name soured her tongue.
Claudius’s threats, his manipulation, still clung to her like damp rot from the Underground Sanctuary.
She’d come so close to kissing Liang Lai, to crossing a line she couldn’t uncross.
Was this what the twins wanted?
To push her into becoming something she despised?

She clutched the blanket, her nails digging into the fabric.
“No. I’ll protect you, Liang Lai. From them… from me… from everything.”

Her gaze hardened, a flicker of resolve cutting through her confusion.
She didn’t fully understand her feelings—love, obsession, or something else—but she knew one thing: Liang Lai was her anchor, her reason to fight the darkness within and without.

If I stay by her side, I can be better. I can be the child she believes in.

She rose, smoothing Liang Lai’s hair gently, careful not to wake her.
“I’ll prove it,” she whispered.
“I’ll be stronger than them. For you.”

The door creaked softly.
Duoluosa spun, heart racing, but it was only the wind rattling the latch.
Still, the unease lingered—Asteris and Delucia’s words echoed in her mind.

“Your feelings for Liang Lai are just simple gratitude and affection, right?”

She shook her head, trying to dispel their voices.
But the seed of doubt they’d planted took root.
What did she want from Liang Lai?
To be her daughter, her protector… or something more?

She didn’t have an answer.
Not yet.

Meanwhile, in the corridor outside, Asteris and Delucia lingered in the shadows.
Their hands were still clasped, their smiles faint but sharp.

“She’s wavering,” Delucia whispered, her hexagram pupils glinting in the dim light.
“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

Asteris nodded, her pale green eyes narrowing.
“That’s good. Confusion makes her weak. Easier to… guide.”

Delucia giggled, her shadow twitching at her feet.
“Guide? Oh, sister, you’re too kind. She’ll either join us or break. Either way, Mom stays ours.”

Asteris’s smile didn’t falter, but her grip on Delucia’s hand tightened.
“We need to be careful. Mom’s third pupil… it saw me. If she learns too much too soon…”

Delucia’s grin widened.
“Then we make sure she doesn’t. Not until we’re ready.”

Their shadows merged briefly, a single dark mass slithering along the wall before splitting again.
They slipped away, their laughter a faint echo in the empty corridor.

Back in the room, Liang Lai stirred slightly, a soft hum escaping her lips.
Duoluosa froze, watching her closely, but the Saintess remained asleep.
Her third pupil, hidden beneath her eyelids, pulsed faintly, as if sensing the lingering traces of the twins’ presence.

Duoluosa sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, her knees drawn to her chest.
She wouldn’t sleep tonight.
Not with the twins’ words haunting her, not with Claudius’s shadow looming, and not with her own heart betraying her with every beat.

“I’ll protect you,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
“Even from myself.”