The perspective shifted rapidly.
In an instant, the real Ecaros’ consciousness switched into the simulation.
The girl’s clean, simple bedroom was replaced by an elegant and opulent office.
Books embossed with gilt Victorian script were neatly arranged on the shelves.
A thick stack of documents sat atop a magnificent, fragrant rosewood desk.
Within this office, a crystal chandelier cast a warm, gentle glow overhead.
Gold-threaded crimson carpets covered the floor.
A leather sofa and a coffee table set with expensive black tea and exquisite pastries occupied the center of the room.
Everything proclaimed the luxury of this office.
This is far too extravagant…
Even though Ecaros had already mentally prepared herself for her sim-self’s financial power, she was still deeply stunned by the wealth her sim-self commanded.
Such a shame it’s only a simulation.
If I could take some of this wealth with me, then even if I have to leave Laterano one day, my childhood friend and I would be set for life.
What a pity.
But after a brief moment of regret in her heart, Ecaros’ attention was drawn to the sound of the door opening.
Entering her sight was a girl standing quietly there—a breathtakingly beautiful Sarkaz girl clad in a plain white robe of the finest silk.
Though somewhat listless and visibly weighed down by worries, and though her youthful charm had yet to fully blossom, she was still stunningly beautiful, the kind that made hearts skip a beat.
It was Theresa.
Her expression right now was poor, her face even bearing a trace of pleading, enough to make one’s heart clench instinctively.
If the current Theresa were to ask someone for help, as long as they weren’t excessively prejudiced against the Sarkaz, it would be impossible to refuse her.
She was like a pitiable flower, making those who cherish beauty instinctively want to protect her.
It had to be admitted—such a Theresa indeed possessed an extraordinary charm.
But unfortunately, the simulated Ecaros did not like this version of Theresa.
It reminded her of her past self, curled up alone in a corner of her room, sobbing.
Back then, she too had wished for someone’s help, but she had understood that asking would not bring salvation—only devouring by those hypocritical demons.
“What business do you have with me, Theresa?” Ecaros’ expression was cold.
In a poor mood, she had no intention of teasing Theresa as she usually did.
Her tone still carried a faint sense of distance, but this time, it was tinged with a hint of displeasure.
Once again, she truly disliked this look on Theresa.
“Lady Ecaros, I…
I…
it’s nothing.
I’m sorry for disturbing you…” It was impossible for Theresa to have no business.
Otherwise, she would never have sought out Ecaros—a woman of mercurial temperament and unfathomable nature.
But Theresa had picked up on the displeasure in Ecaros’ voice, and she had also noticed that Ecaros was different from usual today.
So, weighing the pros and cons, Theresa opted for a tactical retreat.
In short—she chickened out.
Though Theresa indeed had something to ask of Ecaros—to the point that there was truly no other option besides her—she remembered that she had already failed this month’s challenge.
So, for the sake of her own safety, she decided to come back when Ecaros was in a better mood.
However, the moment Theresa turned around, before she had even taken a single step outward, Ecaros’ cool voice halted her movement.
“Did I say you could leave, Theresa?” A seemingly offhand remark, yet it made Theresa feel as though needles were pricking her back.
Her slender tail stiffened for an instant, as if jolted by electricity.
Her foot, already lifted to step away, froze mid-air.
Then, without a word, she retracted it, turned back around, and faced the smirking Ecaros.
Although just moments ago Theresa had wanted to bolt straight out, her instincts told her: if she wanted to see the sun intact tomorrow, she had better not disobey Ecaros.
Therefore, for the sake of her own life, Theresa obediently returned, shut the office door, and looked at Ecaros, seated behind the desk.
Seeing that Theresa had made the correct choice, the coldness on Ecaros’ face thawed somewhat.
Then she spoke to Theresa: “Come here.
Tell me why you came to find me today.” “Do not hide anything from me.
Remember our game.
You have already lost this month.
Do not lie to me—this is an order from your master.” Pouring out a cup of bright red tea from an exquisite teapot, Ecaros took a light sip.
Her pale golden eyes fixed upon Theresa.
Though Theresa was reluctant in her heart, her body was very honest.
She might have furrowed her brows slightly at the word ‘master,’ but she quickly masked it with calm and came to Ecaros’ side.
At Ecaros’ gesture, she skillfully seated herself on the other’s lap—like a large doll held in Ecaros’ embrace, or a large cat being gently stroked through its pinkish-white hair.
This was the daily posture of Ecaros and Theresa’s interactions.
Ecaros thoroughly enjoyed holding the little Theresa, who barely reached 1.3 meters—two whole heads shorter than her current self.
As for Theresa’s own thoughts, they were unimportant.
The rules of the game were clear; she could only comply.
However, since Ecaros—despite dressing in Victorian gentlemen’s attire—actually had a very good figure and was quite soft, Theresa simply treated it as sitting on a plush sofa.
Besides, Ecaros was indeed excellent at head pats.
Under her patting offensive, it was easy for Theresa to grow drowsy in her embrace, accidentally falling asleep leaning against Ecaros’ frontal armor.
And Ecaros didn’t mind Theresa falling asleep in her arms.
At such times, the two seemed utterly harmonious—making it impossible to imagine that their actual relationship was that of master and servant, and that this servant was engaged in a dangerous game with her master…
“Actually…
it’s not a big matter.” “It’s just…
Lady Ecaros, could I ask you for a favor?” Seated in Ecaros’ arms, Theresa organized her words, then finally gritted her teeth and, steeling herself, made her request.
She knew that no matter her standing, no matter her reasons, she had no right to ask anything of Ecaros, a Grand Duchess of Victoria.
But thinking of what Theresis had endured, of the words maliciously scrawled across his books and schoolbag when he returned home…
Recalling how, when she intended to stand up for Theresis, he had said, ‘Let it go.
They are nobles…’ Theresa’s fury sank into an icy abyss.
It also calmed her down, made her think deeply, and made her realize many things.
In the days she had spent by Ecaros’ side, she had learned the difference between nobles, commoners, and slaves.
She now understood that this was not the village in Kazdel where she had survived—this was Victoria’s capital, crawling with nobles.
And during this time, for the first time, she had clearly seen her own weakness.
Even though her belief in protecting her family and the final promise to her parents made her unwilling to admit this reality…
When faced with the malice of a foreign land, of other races and nobles…
Theresa was ultimately forced to confront the cruel truth.
She had to admit her own powerlessness—to admit that with her current, feeble strength, she could protect nothing.
This powerlessness was not limited to Victoria; it was the same in Kazdel.
If Theresa had been strong enough, the kidnapping would never have happened in the first place.
Was Theresa overestimating herself?
Not necessarily…
She simply wanted to protect her family, to fulfill the final promise to her parents.
In the end, Theresa was still just a child.
And Ecaros, to some degree, bore a share of the responsibility.
The ‘game’ she had willingly engaged in with Theresa had planted a misplaced confidence in the young girl’s heart—making her believe she could truly contend with the ‘big figures,’ that she had the power to protect her family.
But in truth, this ‘illusion’ was nothing more than a mercy that could be withdrawn by those same big figures at any moment.
And Theresa had now realized this.
This was precisely why…
Having understood that she could not oppose the nobles, that she could not protect her brother, she had come seeking Ecaros’ ‘mercy.’ Just like that first twilight after their encounter, when Ecaros had bestowed that ‘mercy’ upon her.
As for her pride, her fury…
Those no longer mattered.
Theresa had possessed those things, at their core, to better protect her last remaining family.
If abandoning them could protect her brother, then so what if she abandoned them?
And so, in the end, she came to Ecaros.
This was tantamount to admitting defeat, but Theresa didn’t care.
Deep down, she knew her status was that of a slave.
If compromise could buy protection, she would not hesitate.
After all, all her strength, all her pride, all her anger—they had all been for the sake of protecting her brother.
That was her promise to her departed parents.
That was also the duty Theresa saw as belonging to herself…