Check in on yamaba

Alice made it three corridors before fate, and palace staff conspired against her.

“Lady Alice.”

She stopped mid-step.

Slowly, she turned.

The same scaleborn maid stood behind her, hands folded neatly, expression serene. Up close, Alice could see the gold scales dusting the woman’s body, catching the light like jewelry rather than armor.

“…You again,” Alice said flatly.

The maid inclined her head. “Yes.”

Alice squinted. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be kidnapped?”

The maid’s lips twitched. Just barely. “You are scheduled for cleansing, assessment, and appropriate presentation.”

Alice groaned. “I just came out of a goblin dungeon.”

“Exactly,” the maid replied calmly. “This will not do.”

Before Alice could protest further, a hand rested gently but firmly at the small of her back, steering her toward a side passage that definitely hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Hey wait I just wanted to check on Yamaba and ”

“They are safe,” the maid said. “Medical staff are with them. Your presence is not currently required.”

The doors opened.

Alice stopped dead.

The bath was… obscene.

Not in a lewd way. In a “this should be illegal for one person” way.

A vast marble chamber opened before her, pillars carved with mythic scenes rising into steam-veiled arches. Warm water cascaded from a sculpted waterfall into a wide pool edged with gold filigree. Steam curled lazily upward, scented faintly with herbs and something floral she couldn’t name. Lanterns of soft crystal light floated near the ceiling, casting everything in a honeyed glow.

“…This is a hot spring,” Alice said weakly.

“This is merely a bath,” the maid replied. “A private one.”

Alice laughed once, disbelieving. “Of course it is.”

She turned. “I can bathe myself.”

The maid gently removed Alice’s gauntlets anyway.

“No,” she said.

Alice stared. “Excuse me?”

“You have blood in your hair,” the maid continued evenly. “Dried gore in the seams of your armor. You are exhausted.”

Alice opened her mouth.

Closed it.

(…Rude. Accurate. But rude.)

“Just don’t make it weird,” Alice muttered.

The maid nodded solemnly. “I will not.”

Alice was guided into the water, the heat sinking into her bones immediately, loosening tension she hadn’t realized was there. She hissed softly despite herself, shoulders sagging.

“See?” the maid said. “Already better.”

“I didn’t say that,” Alice grumbled.

The maid stepped behind her, fingers deft and practiced as she worked shampoo into Alice’s hair. The touch was firm, methodical, almost clinical more like a sister braiding hair than anything intimate.

Alice’s face burned anyway.

(Why am I like this.)

“You may relax,” the maid said quietly. “You are safe here.”

Alice swallowed hard, fighting against the embarrassment that washed through her. She loved the warmth of the water and the care the maid was taking, but this... this felt... wrong. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't deny that her body was responding to the sensations. "I-I'm clean enough," she stammered, trying to cover up.

"Lady Alice," the maid replied calmly, "it is my duty to ensure your hygiene is impeccable at all times. Your safety, as well as the impression you make on others, is paramount." She continued to wash and massage Alice's scalp, her fingers moving down to gently knead Alice's shoulder blades before sliding lower to stroke her back.

"I-it's fine," Alice protested weakly. But her heart rate was accelerating, her breath catching in her throat. The maid's touch was soothing, yet it sent shivers down her spine. She wanted it to stop, and she wanted it to keep going. She gripped the edge of the marble pool, trying to find some semblance of control.

Despite her better judgment, Alice found herself starting to unwind under the maid's touch.

But the thought of this stranger, however gentle, washing her made her skin crawl. She hadn't... not since before the mission, and even then, it hadn't been like this.

"Hey," Alice said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Not there."

The maid paused, fingers still ghosting over Alice's inner thigh. "As you wish," she said evenly.

Alice sighed in relief. She closed her eyes, concentrating on relaxing.

Until the maid started washing her breasts.

There was nothing overtly lustful in the touch, but the warmth and softness were disconcerting nonetheless. Alice opened her eyes to glare at the maid, but the look in those golden eyes was earnest, almost pleading.

"You are hardly the first Inspira i've bathed," the maid said quietly.

Alice scoffed. you've heard of being fucked in the head, but this is ridiculous."

The maid leaned close, her breath tickling Alice's ear she whispered. "Your cleansing will purify me as well."

Alice felt a shiver run down her spine. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" she asked, her voice keeping its steady pitch by sheer **** of will.

"I am only following orders," the maid replied. "Now relax."

And with that, she slipped lower, laving the gently swollen buds of Alice's nipples with her tongue.

Alice cried out involuntarily, shuddering in pleasure so intense it was almost painful.

With a firm grip on Alice's hips, the maid carefully turned her around, keeping their bodies aligned.

The maid's face remained impassive as she took Alice's cock in her soap lathered hand, her thumb rubbing softly over the sensitive cock head. The touch sent shivers through Alice's body, making her instinctively clench around the maid's fingers. She gasped, feeling flushed.

Alice begged. "I can do this myself."

The maid paused but slowly continued stroking Alice's cock, as she pressed her thumb against Alice's slit. "I will not **** you, Lady Alice," she said, her voice low and steady. "But I must ensure you are cleaned thoroughly and this is very dirty."

Alice hesitated, torn between need and pride. She couldn't deny the primal desire coursing through her veins as the maid's fingers began to slide into her pussy. The woman's expression never changed, but Alice could see the hint of satisfaction in her eyes as she watched the pleasure wash over Alice's face.

"My Daddy won't approve," Alice panted. "This isn't..."

"Your father entrusted me with your care," the maid interrupted. Her fingers increased their pace, rubbing against Alice's rapidly dampening cunt.

Alice whimpered, unable to deny the maid's words or the unyielding touch. Her back arched as she ground herself against the maid's hand, slow warmth spreading through her abdomen. "You're not supposed to..."

The maid leaned closer, her breath hot against Alice's ear. "I serve at your family's pleasure," she whispered. "It is my duty to prepare you." Her fingers circled and pressed on Alice's cock head, working it expertly.

"I can't..." Alice groaned, her hips bucking helplessly. A wave of heat washed over her, and she crested the peak of her orgasm with a **** cry. Her pussy clenched around the maid's fingers and her cock pulsed in her hand, milking every drop of pleasure as wave after wave tore through her.

As the maid withdrew her hand, Alice could feel her cum on the woman's fingers. She opened her eyes, startled, but the maid simply licked her fingertips clean with a serene expression. "Your body is well receptive," she said. "It is a sign of your health."

Alice leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the pool’s edge, letting the waterfall pound gently against her back, cock still spasming into the water.

“…You do this for all of Father’s children?” she asked.

The maid hesitated just a beat. “For some.”

That landed harder than expected.

Alice swallowed, staring at the rippling water. “I’m not staying forever.”

“I know,” the maid said.

“…I don't even know your name" Alice muttered.

“It's Lucia,” the maid replied.

She rinsed the shampoo carefully, draping a warm cloth over Alice’s shoulders the moment the water cooled.

Alice exhaled, long and slow.

(Okay. Fine. This is nice. I hate that it’s nice.)

When it was over, she was wrapped in fresh towels and ushered into an adjoining chamber.

The adjoining chamber was quieter.

Warm, but not steamy. Marble gave way to polished dark wood and silk-lined panels. A standing mirror occupied one wall, tall enough to reflect Alice head to toe, framed in gold filigree that felt… judgmental.

A garment waited on a padded stand.

Alice stopped.

“…That’s,” she began, then exhaled. “That’s a lot.”

The suit was immaculate. High-collared, tailored close through the waist and shoulders, dark fabric threaded with faint crimson lines that caught the light when she moved. It wasn’t armor, but it wasn’t ceremonial either. It was the kind of clothing that announced authority without needing to raise its voice.

(I look like him.)

Lucia stepped in behind her, already lifting the jacket from its stand. “Please hold still.”

“I can dress myself,” Alice said automatically.

Lucia paused, then inclined her head. “If you wish.”

Alice hesitated, then sighed. “…Fine. Just don’t grope.”

Lucia’s lips curved, barely.

The process was efficient. Clinical. She fastened clasps, adjusted seams, smoothed fabric with practiced care. When Alice finally looked up at her reflection again, she barely recognized herself.

The posture. The silhouette. The way the suit framed her shoulders.

(It’s not fair. I didn’t ask to look like his shadow.)

Alice noticed the maid had finished redressing.

Her gaze dropped.

“…You didn’t put on ” Alice stopped herself, cheeks warming. “Aren’t you… missing something?”

Lucia didn’t even blink. “Panties interfere with my tail.”

Alice glanced down.

Then back up.

Then very deliberately looked at the wall.

“Oh. Right. Of course they do.”

“There are designs that accommodate it,” Lucia continued calmly, adjusting Alice’s collar. “But I find them impractical.”

“Sure,” Alice muttered. “Why wouldn’t you.”

When they were finished, Lucia stepped back. “You are presentable.”

Alice rolled her shoulders, testing the fit. “…I feel like I’m about to be lectured by myself.”

Lucia tilted her head. “You resemble your father.”

Alice winced. “Please don’t say that like it’s a compliment.”

Lucia did not apologize.

Alice exhaled and glanced toward the door. “Where’s Yamaba? And… her daughters. How are they?”

Lucia’s expression shifted subtly. more careful.

“They are housed in the east wing,” she said. “Away from public traffic. Medical staff are monitoring both goblins. Nutritional support has been provided. No restraints.”

Alice’s shoulders loosened a fraction. “Good.”

She hesitated, fingers curling at her side. “This place is… a lot. Even for me.”

Lucia nodded once. “The palace overwhelms many.”

“It swallowed me when I was a kid,” Alice admitted quietly. “And I had the advantage of knowing what forks to use.”

Her gaze dropped.

“They’ve lived underground their whole lives,” she continued. “Stone. Dark. Survival. This…” She gestured vaguely, meaning the floating island, the light, the endless space. “This might as well be another world.”

Lucia regarded her for a long moment.

“You are worried they will be afraid,” she said.

“I’m worried they’ll feel like they don’t belong,” Alice replied. “Because that feeling sticks.”

Lucia opened the door and stepped aside. “Then it is good they have you.”

Alice paused at the threshold.

“…You don’t have to keep escorting me, you know.”

Lucia inclined her head. “I was not instructed to stop.”

Alice snorted softly. “Figures.”

She squared her shoulders and stepped into the corridor, the palace stretching endlessly ahead.

(Okay. Deep breath. One emotional crisis at a time.)

“Take me to Yamaba,” she said.

Lucia turned and led the way.

Alice followed a half step behind Lucia, boots whispering over polished stone, her thoughts anything but quiet.

(Okay. So. What exactly is Yamaba to me?)

The question looped no matter how hard she tried to dodge it.

Sure, they’d… crossed a line once. That didn’t mean anything by itself. People did stupid things in dungeons all the time and never spoke of them again.

(That doesn’t mean we’re dating.)

And Yamaba was… with Leo. At least, Alice thought she was. The whole Lionheart situation was a mess in her head. Leo plus Jolie made sense in a loud, obvious way. Leo plus Yamaba was quieter. Complicated. Something heavy that Alice didn’t understand and didn’t really have the right to poke at.

(It’s a harem. Technically. I think. Gods, I hate that word.)

She scrubbed a hand through her hair, fingers catching briefly on the collar of the suit Lucia had dressed her in.

Yamaba was older. A lot older. Alice knew that now. late thirties, at least, even if the elf thing made the number feel fuzzy. Nearly twice her age.

(It shouldn’t matter. It does. I don’t know why.)

She swallowed.

It wasn’t like Yamaba had been her first anything. Alice had done things before. Awkward, fumbling things. Her old boyfriend, back when she still thought the academy path made sense.

The memory left a sour taste.

(He never liked me. Not really.)

Seraphina’s words echoed unhelpfully in her head.

Alice’s jaw tightened.

She’d tried to tell herself it hadn’t mattered. That it was just one relationship. That people broke up all the time. But knowing he’d been quietly repulsed by her body the whole time made something hollow out behind her ribs.

And after that… there had been Lila the waitress at her mom’s bar. Laughing. Late nights. Hands brushing. A blowjob once or twice, drunk and messy fuck behind the counter.

(It never went anywhere.)

Because Alice hadn’t known how to make it go anywhere.

Her pace slowed.

(It’s not just about sex.)

That realization hit her with uncomfortable clarity.

She wanted someone to choose her. To see all the weird and still stay. Someone who didn’t flinch when things got ugly. Someone who understood that darkness wasn’t a phase for her.

Her eyes drifted forward.

Yamaba.

(A hot elf necromancer who’s survived hell and still stands tall.)

Alice huffed under her breath.

(Of course I’d fall for that. I’ve been watching horror movies since I was five.)

Before she could spiral further, Lucia slowed, then stopped.

“We have arrived,” the maid said gently.

Alice blinked, pulled back into the present.

They stood before a quieter wing of the palace. Fewer lights. Softer colors. The air smelled faintly of herbs instead of incense and gold.

Behind the door ahead, Alice could feel it. The weight. The vulnerability.

Yamaba.

And her daughters.

Alice’s chest tightened.

(Okay. Focus. Feelings later. Be there now.)

Lucia stepped aside and opened the door.

Complete chaos spilled out.

Paper fluttered through the air like wounded birds, forms and charts scattered across the floor in shredded heaps. A half-dozen folders lay overturned on a table, their contents clearly having lost a war with a small knife.

“NO DRESSES,” Ruki shrieked, sprinting across the room barefoot and half-dressed, clutching said knife like a declaration of independence. “I WILL NOT BE CONTAINED.”

“please,” pleaded the centaur maid chasing her, the unmistakable energy of someone out of their depth. “It’s silk! It’s Totally breathable! You can’t run around the palace!”

Ruki vaulted over a chair.

The centaur skidded, hooves clopping, nearly taking out a rolling medical cart.

In the far corner, Sayo sat curled neatly into a plush chair, legs tucked beneath her, already dressed in elegant surface clothing. She held a book in both hands, eyes calm, posture composed, as if goblin rampaging through the place was a perfectly normal background condition.

Alice blinked.

“…What.”

A doctor straightened near the window, finishing a scan over Yamaba’s arm before stepping back with a satisfied nod. “Vitals excellent. No lingering trauma, mana channels stable. Frankly, she’s in better condition than most adventurers.”

“Thank you,” Yamaba said softly.

She looked up.

Her eyes met Alice’s.

The smile that bloomed was small, careful, and completely unguarded. Tears clung faintly to her eyes, joy and relief tangled together in a way that made Alice’s chest ache.

Alice froze.

(Okay. Say something normal. Something supportive. Don’t )

“H-hey,” Alice said, immediately failing. “Uh. You look… really good. I mean healthy. Not like, hot, just I meant ”

Yamaba’s smile wavered, with amusement. “Alice,” she said gently. “It’s good to see you.”

Alice nodded far too fast. “Yeah. You too. Very… see-able.”

Ruki, mid-sprint, glanced over her shoulder.

Tripped on a loose stack of paperwork.

“OHOH ”

She went down in a heap.

The centaur maid seized the moment, scooping Ruki up under one arm with practiced efficiency. “Got you!”

“BETRAYAL,” Ruki yelled, knife arm flailing harmlessly. “MOTHER, SHE’S TRYING TO DRESS ME.”

Yamaba sighed fondly, rubbing her temple. “Ruki. Please don’t stab the staff.”

“I JUST STABBED PAPER,” Ruki protested. “IT STARTED IT.”

Sayo didn’t look up from her book. “You started it,” she said calmly.

Alice stood there, cheeks burning, hands hovering uselessly at her sides.

(Yep. Great entrance. Nailed it.)

Yamaba rose slowly from the chair and stepped toward her, close enough that Alice could see the lingering shine in her eyes.

“…Thank you,” Yamaba said again, quieter this time.

Alice swallowed, finally finding her footing. “I meant it,” she said. “All of it. I’m… glad you’re okay.”

Ruki squirmed in the centaur’s grasp, glaring. “She weird,” she stage-whispered.

Yamaba smiled.

Alice groaned softly.

Lucia cleared her throat politely.

Ruki bristled instantly. “No,” she snapped, twisting in the centaur’s arms. “Absolutely not. You don’t get alone time with my mom.”

“I just want to talk.” Alice said quickly.

Ruki’s eyes narrowed. “That’s worse.”

Before it could escalate, Lucia stepped in with quiet efficiency. She reached out, lifted Ruki cleanly out of the centaur maid’s grasp like an unruly cat, and tucked the goblin under one arm with practiced calm.

“You will accompany me,” Lucia said mildly. “There will be food.”

Ruki froze. “…What kind.”

“All of it.”

Ruki stopped struggling.

Sayo closed her book, rose, and gave Yamaba a small nod. “I’ll be nearby,” she said calmly, then followed Lucia without protest.

The door closed behind them.

The room felt suddenly too large.

Too quiet.

Alice shifted her weight, hands fidgeting uselessly at her sides. Yamaba stood near the window, spirit flames low and steady, her posture composed but tight in a way Alice did not yet know how to read.

“So,” Alice said, blurting it out. “Uh. Hi. Again.”

Yamaba glanced at her, lips curving faintly. “You have already greeted me twice,” she said dryly.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I just wanted to check on you. And make sure you were okay. And your kids. And also I thought maybe we could talk about… things.”

Yamaba’s gaze softened for a heartbeat. “You’ve done more than enough,” she said. “I am… grateful. Truly.”

That warmth sent Alice’s heart skipping.

(Okay. This is good. Say something smooth. Or at least coherent.)

“I mean,” Alice continued, barreling ahead, “I know things are complicated. With Leo. And Jolie. And everything. But I just wanted you to know that I’m here. Like. Really here. And if you wanted to maybe try something different or take some time or just… I don’t know.”

She laughed nervously. “We could watch a horror movie. Or not. I’m flexible.”

Yamaba’s smile faded.

“Alice,” she said quietly. “Please.”

Alice faltered. “Please what.”

“Slow down.”

The word landed heavier than Alice expected.

Yamaba turned away, resting her hands on the window ledge, staring out at the drifting clouds beyond the palace walls. When she spoke again, her voice was controlled, but the strain beneath it was unmistakable.

“I just got my children back after years away,” she said. “I am standing in a palace. And I am trying very hard not to fall apart.”

Alice opened her mouth. Closed it.

“I know you mean well,” Yamaba continued. “And I know you care. But you are not listening.”

“I am,” Alice insisted. “I just thought that maybe if I was here for you, it would help.”

Yamaba turned back then, molten eyes sharp. “I need space and time.”

Alice recoiled slightly. “I’m not trying to smother you.”

“You are,” Yamaba said, blunt but not loud. “You just don’t realize it.”

That stung.

Alice’s voice rose despite herself. “I risked everything for you. I called my father. I dragged half the guild down on that place. I’m trying to be supportive.”

“And I did not ask you to fix me,” Yamaba replied, heat flickering in her eyes. “I ask for time. not for you to try to decide what we are while I am still bleeding inside.”

Silence snapped tight between them.

Alice’s hands clenched. “So what, I’m just supposed to disappear.”

“No,” Yamaba said, exhaling slowly. “You are supposed to trust that I will come to you when I am ready.”

Alice shook her head, frustration bubbling over. “You make it sound like I did something wrong just by caring.”

Yamaba’s shoulders sagged, the anger draining into exhaustion. “Caring is not the problem,” she said quietly. “Pushing is.”

Alice stared at her, lost.

(I don’t understand. I thought this was what you do. You show up. You don’t leave.)

Her voice came out smaller. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. Relationships. I don’t know where the line is.”

Yamaba softened, but she did not close the distance. “Then learn,” she said. “But not tonight. Not like this.”

She turned away again, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I need time,” Yamaba said. “And right now, I need my daughters. Not questions. Not expectations. Not to be pulled in three directions at once.”

Alice swallowed hard.

“…Okay,” she said, though it felt like admitting defeat.

Yamaba nodded once. “Thank you.”

The door remained closed.

Alice drifted down the palace corridor like a ghost, boots echoing softly against marble that was too clean, too bright, too much.

The fight replayed in her head on a cruel loop.

She exhaled through her nose, shoulders slumping.

(…Great. Really nailed that,Little Sparrow.)

Her fingers curled into her sleeves. She missed her mom suddenly with an ache that surprised her. The apartment. The bar and bad decisions. Maria yelling from the kitchen not to touch the good bottle while already halfway through it herself.

(I should call her.)

Or maybe i should call the twins. Reed and Rose would absolutely make this worse, but in a way that usually ended with laughter instead of knots in her chest.

She was weighing those options when

CRASH.

Alice jumped and spun around just in time to see a priceless porcelain pre system vase wobble, teeter, and finally shatter against the floor in an explosion of blue-and-gold shards.

“…Oh no,”

The centaur maid skidded into view from around the corner, black-and-white uniform immaculate despite the chaos she’d just caused. Her upper half froze in horror. Her lower half, unfortunately, did not.

Her hooves kept moving.

She slid straight through the debris, tail flicking, arms windmilling.

She vanished upward in a blur.

The broken shards… were suddenly gone.

Alice blinked.

The centaur reappeared a second later, striking a pose that would have been impressive if she weren’t upside down on a chandelier, one hand holding the now-perfectly-intact vase.

“…Ta-da?”

Alice stared.

“…You’re a ninja.”

The centaur beamed. “Classed and certified!”

She dropped lightly to the floor, setting the vase back on its pedestal with exaggerated care. Only then did she notice Alice properly.

“Oh! Hi!” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You’re the mopey kid.”

Alice winced. “Wow. Subtle.”

“I’m very perceptive,” the maid said proudly. “It’s part of the kit."

Alice rubbed her face. “Yeah. That tracks.”

The centaur shifted her weight, hooves completely soundless. “Do you want snacks? Or ****? Or distractions? I’m very flexible.”

“…I don’t even know,” Alice admitted.

“Well,” the maid said brightly, “you’re in luck. Because option four just found you.”

Two identical figures stepped out from a side corridor in perfect sync.

Black suits. Sharp tailoring. Matching smiles.

“Big sis,” they said together.

Alice’s heart did a small, traitorous flip. “…Oh no.”

Reed and Rose Inspira approached like mirrored reflections, hands tucked casually into their pockets. One leaned left. The other leaned right. They spoke again, voices overlapping just enough to be unsettling.

“You look like you lost a fight,”

“Or won one you didn’t want.”

Alice huffed. “Can you two not do the creepy thing right now.”

They tilted their heads opposite directions.

“That is the not-creepy thing,”

“You should see the alternative.”

The centaur maid gasped softly. “Ohhh. Twins. I love twins.”

“We know,”

“Everyone does.”

They turned back to Alice, expressions softening in perfect unison.

“You okay?”

“Do you need backup?”

Alice hesitated. Then sighed, long and tired.

“…I think I just need people who won’t expect anything from me for like. Five minutes.”

Reed snapped his fingers.

Rose clapped once.

“Say no more,”

“We specialize in that.”

They flanked her effortlessly, one on each side.

“Come on,”

“We’ll steal you.”

The centaur maid saluted. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see this!”

She vanished in a puff of displaced air, knocking over another vase somewhere far away.

Alice shook her head despite herself.

the tightness in her chest eased just a little.

(Okay. Maybe I’m not completely alone.)

And with the twins guiding her down a side passage Alice let herself breathe.

Alice let herself be herded.

Reed and Rose moved with effortless confidence through the palace, flanking her like matched shadows, their footsteps perfectly in sync. Every turn felt intentional, like the castle itself recognized them and shifted politely out of the way.

“Okay,” Alice said after a minute, gesturing vaguely. “If you’re going to abduct me, at least tell me where we’re going.”

They smiled.

“Orientation,”

“Distraction,”

“Emotional triage.”

“…That’s not reassuring.”

They ignored that.

The Training Grounds

They pushed open a pair of enormous doors, and the air changed.

Heat, ozone, and mana pressure rolled over Alice like a wave.

Before them stretched a colossal open arena carved into the island itself. Floating platforms hovered at different heights. Targets reformed themselves after being destroyed. A massive illusionary beast was currently being dismembered by a lone adventurer in the distance, only to reassemble seconds later.

Runes crawled along the stone like living things.

“This is where Father breaks prodigies,”

“And repairs the ones that survive.”

Alice swallowed. “This is… a lot.”

Reed nodded.

Rose nodded.

“You trained here once,”

“Before you decided you hated it remember?.”

Alice winced. “I didn’t hate it.”

They both looked at her.

“…Okay, I hated it.”

The Dining Hall

Next stop was a vaulted hall so large Alice couldn’t see the far end. Long tables rearranged themselves constantly, forming clusters or separating as needed. Food appeared and vanished on command. Servants and adventurers mingled freely, rank and status blurring just enough to feel intentional.

A roast carved itself.

A cake floated past.

Someone was arguing with a spirit over soup temperature.

“This is neutral ground,”

“No politics,”

“No bloodshed.”

Reed leaned closer.

“Usually.”

Alice stared. “You’re telling me I could’ve eaten here instead of instant noodles for three years.”

“Yes,”

The Pool

They didn’t even warn her.

They just opened the doors.

Alice stopped dead.

“Oh come on.”

The pool wasn’t a pool. It was a private aquatic paradise carved into the heart of the island. Warm water cascaded down multiple waterfalls into a massive basin. A spiraling water slide wrapped around a column of glowing crystal. In the center floated a small island with loungers, glowing plants, and what looked suspiciously like a drink bar.

Steam curled lazily upward.

Someone laughed in the distance.

“This is obscene,” Alice muttered.

Rose grinned.

Reed shrugged.

“Father believes recovery is important,”

“And also showing off.”

The Artifact Vault

They didn’t go inside.

They stopped in front of doors so heavily warded Alice could feel her **** Knight rune itch in protest.

Beyond the reinforced crystal, artifacts hovered in slow orbits. Weapons that bent light. Armor that whispered. Things that should not be awake.

“This is where bad ideas sleep,”

“And sometimes wake up.”

Alice took a step back. “Yeah. Let’s not.”

They approved of that.

Her Room

Finally, they stopped.

A pair of doors taller than any she’d ever owned slid open soundlessly.

Alice’s breath caught.

It wasn’t a bedroom.

It was a mansion pretending to be one.

A vast chamber unfolded before her, divided into lounging space, study, and sleeping quarters without walls, only shifts in lighting and texture. The bed sat at the center, enormous, draped in deep red velvet curtains that cascaded from a canopy like theater drapes.

Above it all, the ceiling was gone.

Not missing. Replaced.

A perfect night sky stretched overhead, stars slowly drifting, constellations subtly rearranging themselves. A faint aurora shimmered at the edges.

Alice stepped inside slowly.

“…This is too much,” she whispered.

Reed smiled softly.

Rose’s voice gentled.

“It’s yours,”

“Prepared years ago.”

Alice turned. “You knew I’d come back.”

They exchanged a glance.

“We hoped,”

“We waited.”

She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, velvet soft beneath her fingers, staring up at the stars.

Her chest ached.

(Yamaba should be here.)

(No. Too soon. Don’t.)

“…I’m not staying forever,” Alice said quietly.

They didn’t argue.

“We know,”

“But you’re here now.”

Rose nudged her shoulder lightly.

Reed added, almost fondly, “And tonight, that’s enough.”

Alice lay back, staring up at a sky that felt **** than the one she remembered.

For the first time all day, she didn’t feel like she was about to fall apart.

“…Thanks,” she said.

The twins smiled.

They ended up sprawled across the bed without thinking about.

Alice sat cross-legged near the headboard, a bowl of something crunchy and sweet balanced precariously in her lap. Reed lounged on one side, jacket off, shoes kicked somewhere unimportant. Rose lay on her stomach at the foot of the bed, chin propped on folded arms, tailing constellations with one finger as they drifted overhead.

A system panel hovered in the air above them, wide and translucent, playing some old horror movie Alice had half-picked, half-defaulted to because it felt familiar. The sound was low, more background than focus.

It almost felt like a sleepover.

Almost.

They passed snacks back and forth without comment. Someone nudged someone else’s knee. At one point Reed stole a piece out of Alice’s bowl and Alice flicked him in the forehead for it. Rose laughed, soft and brief.

(It’s different in person.)

They talked all the time through holo calls. Quick check-ins. Late-night vents. Jokes that only worked if you shared blood and a complicated father. But this was slower. Warmer. Real in a way that didn’t pixelate.

Alice leaned back on her hands, eyes drifting up to the artificial sky.

“…So,” Rose said eventually, tone casual in a way that meant it wasn’t. “Father’s pushing again.”

Alice hummed. “Pushing how.”

Reed snorted quietly. “Top ten.”

That got her attention.

She glanced sideways. “He’s still on that.”

“Very,” Rose said. “Aggressively.”

Reed rolled onto his back, staring up at the stars. “He’s been making moves. Alliances. Cutting deals. Breaking others.”

“And making enemies,” Rose added.

There was a pause.

Alice chewed slowly, thinking. “Yeah. That tracks.”

Rose propped herself up on her elbows, watching Alice closely. “You’re not worried.”

Alice shrugged. “Not really.”

Reed blinked. “That’s not the correct emotional response.”

She smirked faintly. “He’s always had enemies. That’s not new.”

“That’s not what we mean,” Rose said. “Top ten guilds don’t just fight with contracts. They fight with assassinations. Politics. Smear campaigns. Wars.”

“I know,” Alice said.

She shifted, pulling her knees up, arms resting loosely over them.

“I’ve seen him play that game before. He knows what he’s doing.”

Reed studied her. “You sound… confident.”

Alice’s expression softened into something more complicated.

“I sound tired,” she said. “There’s a difference.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, the movie filling the space with some distant scream and a dramatic sting of music.

Rose spoke again, quieter. “We just don’t want you caught in the middle.”

Alice let out a breath. “I’ve been in the middle my whole life. This is just… more middle.”

Reed reached out, bumping her shoulder lightly with his own. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

She glanced at him, then at Rose.

“I know,” Alice said. And she meant it.

The credits rolled, the system panel dimming itself as the movie ended with a final Jump scare.

Reed stretched, arms over his head. Rose slid off the bed more gracefully, already smoothing her jacket back into place.

“Well,”

“That was terrible,”

“And exactly what you needed.”

Alice snorted.

They were just turning toward the door when it opened.

No knock. No warning.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

Seraphina stepped inside like she owned the air.

Behind her followed an absurd little procession: the centaur maid Alice had already met, Lucia moving with her usual composed calm, and then two winged figures hovering just slightly off the floor.

Twin angels.

Soft features, flawless skin, and wings folded neatly behind their backs. They were dressed in maid outfits tailored to be aggressively cute lace-trimmed skirts, fitted bodices, stockings that looked impractically cute.

One of them leaned lazily to the side, wings slack, expression mischievous and unapologetic. He gave Alice a slow, cheeky grin, clearly enjoying the moment.

The other stood ramrod straight, cheeks already flushed, eyes fixed firmly on the floor as if it might swallow him whole.

Alice blinked.

“…Why are there angels in my bedroom.”

Seraphina waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t be dramatic. They’re staff.”

Reed and Rose exchanged a glance.

“Oh,”

“This is happening,”

Seraphina clasped her hands together, smile sharp and predatory. “Father has decided it’s time you stop pretending you’re a stray.” Her gaze swept the room. “Which means you require a personal maid.”

Alice shot to her feet. “Nope. Absolutely not. I don’t need a maid.”

Seraphina didn’t even look at her. “Father’s orders.”

“I can dress myself.”

“Charming,” Seraphina replied coolly. “And irrelevant.”

Her eyes flicked over the line of attendants with open disdain. “Pick one. They’re interchangeable.”

Lucia’s jaw tightened just a fraction.

The centaur maid shifted uncomfortably.

The bratty angel tilted his head, wings fluttering lazily. “Wow,” he drawled. “She’s fun.”

The shy one went redder and shrank half an inch in on himself.

Alice’s stomach twisted.

“Don’t talk about them like that,” Alice snapped. “They’re people.”

Seraphina’s predatory red eyes slid back to her, amused. “If it helps you sleep, call them what you like. masturbation aid, fucktoys, personnel it changes nothing.”

Reed’s voice went flat. “You’re being awful.”

Seraphina smiled at him like one might at an interesting insect. “I always am.”

Alice looked at the lineup again.

Lucia stood calm and steady, gaze level and respectful. The centaur maid tried to stand at attention and nearly knocked over a chair. The bratty angel gave her a wink. The shy one looked like he might actually pass out.

Alice dragged a hand down her face.

(I hate this place.)

“I don’t want to choose,” she said quietly.

Seraphina stepped closer, heels clicking. “You already are. By hesitating.”

The twins moved in closer, flanking Alice again.

“Hey,”

“We’ve got you,”

Alice swallowed, heart pounding.

She looked at Lucia first at the way she held herself, not deferential but professional. Then at the others, each clearly trapped in this role by expectations they hadn’t chosen either.

“…This isn’t fair,” Alice muttered.

Seraphina shrugged. “Nothing worth having ever is.”

Alice took a breath.

And then another.

“…I need a second,” she said. “Just one second.”

Seraphina arched a brow. “Try not to take all night, Little Sparrow.”