The pads of her fingers sliding over his Adam’s apple was as light as a feather.
Even so, it made Soren feel cold all over, even his breath trembling.
He could clearly feel the temperature of Rosaria’s fingertips–a warmth wrapped in a paranoid chill, boring down his neck toward his heart, squeezing it tight with cold.
“Cl…
clean?”
Soren’s voice trembled terribly, the panic in his eyes on the verge of overflowing.
He wanted to shrink back, but the back of his neck was firmly pinned, leaving him unable to even nod.
He could only watch helplessly as the darkness in Rosaria’s eyes grew deeper and deeper.
Acting as if she hadn’t heard his trembling, Rosaria smiled even more gently instead.
Her fingertip drew a circle on his Adam’s apple, her tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.
“Mhm.
For instance, the cuffs that someone else touched just now, or if you accidentally touch someone else…”
She paused, her eyes suddenly lighting up as if she had thought of a brilliant idea.
“I’ll just rub all the places they touched with disinfectant until the skin peels off, alright?”
Soren’s scalp went numb.
He finally realized that what lay in Rosaria’s eyes was no joke, but genuine, chilling obsession… she wanted to push away anyone who might get close to him, keeping him entirely within her sight.
“N-No…”
Soren was so anxious that the rims of his eyes turned red.
He wanted to grab Rosaria’s wrist to stop her, but his intention was easily seen through.
Her other hand suddenly clamped onto his wrist, the force making him gasp in pain.
Looking at his reddened eye corners, a fleeting trace of heartache flashed through Rosaria’s eyes, but it was quickly overwritten by possessiveness.
She leaned in close to Soren’s ear, as she murmured:
“Be good, don’t fuss.”
She gently nipped Soren’s earlobe, leaving behind a trace of warm touch.
“I’m not restricting your freedom, but…
you are not allowed to leave Mondstadt.”
“Not allowed to leave Mondstadt.”
These words were like an invisible chain, wrapping around Soren’s ankle, making even the air feel heavy.
Rosaria released her grip on his wrist, instead caressing his reddened knuckles.
While her movements were soft as if cradling a fragile treasure, her tone carried an unquestionable certainty.
“Here you have me, the taverns you are familiar with, and the windmills you often visit.
You don’t need to go anywhere else.
Those unfamiliar nations and unfamiliar people will only ‘dirty’ you.”
Soren’s fingertips still throbbed with the pain of being gripped.
Looking at the thick, unyielding possessiveness in Rosaria’s eyes, his throat tightened, rendering him speechless.
He wanted to retort that “Mondstadt is not a prison,” but before the words could leave his mouth, they were cut off by her next action–Rosaria suddenly raised her hand to tuck the stray hairs scattered across his forehead behind his ear, her fingertips brushing his cheek with a faint, cold touch.
“If you’re obedient-”
Her voice softened, and there was even a faint, barely perceptible trace of pleading in her eyes, like a child afraid of losing a favorite toy.
“I will bring you grape juice from Dawn Winery every day, and I will accompany you to Stormbearer Mountains to watch the stars.
It will be much better than going by yourself, or with anyone else, right?”
Albeit this tenderness did not last long.
Her fingertips suddenly halted on Soren’s cheek, and her gaze sank once more, like a frozen lake.
“But if you dare to run away secretly, or dare to ask members of the Knights of Favonius about routes out of the city…”
She leaned close to Soren’s ear, her breath carrying a touch of chill.
“I will nail your room’s window shut, and I will hide your cloak away.
You know that without my permission, you won’t even be able to pass through the city gates.”
Soren’s body swayed, the rims of his eyes growing even redder, but he didn’t dare to struggle anymore.
He could feel that every word and action of Rosaria’s was drawing an invisible circle around him.
Inside the circle was only her and him, and everything outside was treated as a threat by her.
Looking at his submissive state, a faint smile finally returned to Rosaria’s eyes, though it was still wrapped in obsession.
She gently embraced Soren, resting her chin on the crown of his head, her voice as light as a sigh.
“Be good, don’t make me do things that frighten you.
Why don’t you just treat me as your romantic partner?”
Soren cast his eyes down, his long eyelashes casting fine shadows beneath them, concealing the flicker of struggle in his gaze.
He didn’t retort immediately.
His shoulders slumped, his fingertips unconsciously tightening around his shirt hem, and then he slowly nodded.
The movement was as light as a feather falling.
To Rosaria, it looked like submission, but only Soren knew that a tempest was already raging in his chest.
He stared at the plain handkerchief discarded on the ground, his fingertips turning white, his mind racing to calculate.
If only I could find a chance to go to the Adventurers’ Guild and borrow a map…
….
Meanwhile, on a nearby roof, teal Anemo elements gently swirled around the tips of Venti’s hair.
In his arms, he held a half-bottle of apple cider that was still radiating a cold mist.
The cork wasn’t sealed tight, and a few drops of liquid occasionally sloshed out, spreading into tiny wet patches on the tiled eaves.
Gripping the edge of the roof, he leaned his head forward, his eyes wide and round as he stared intently at the two confronting each other below.
When he saw Soren nod, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
He rubbed his eyes and looked again, his mouth instantly dropping open.
Lowering his voice, he muttered to himself in a tone full of anxiety and absolute certainty:
“It’s…
it’s this woman!
It must be her forcing Soren to become her… her…
her sex slave, for crying out loud!”
As he spoke, he shook his fist indignantly, the bottle of apple cider clinking under his movements.
“No, no, I have to think of a way to rescue him.
I can’t just stand by and watch him get bullied by someone else!
I haven’t even teased him enough yet!”
Venti squatted at the mouth of the alley not far away, the apple cider in his arms long forgotten as his fingertips unconsciously picked at the cracks in the wall, his mind frantically scheming a rescue plan.
The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed.
He couldn’t help but peek over to see their next move.
The moment his gaze landed on them, he saw Rosaria release her grip on Soren’s wrist.
Rosaria tidied her dress, her fingertips brushing over the folds of her cuffs.
Her tone sounded like she was just giving routine instructions, though it carried an unquestionable constraint.
“Alright, I have some business to attend to.
Go wander around Mondstadt on your own.”
She paused, her gaze sweeping over Soren’s hanging head, and added:
“I will come find you tonight.”
No sooner had she spoken than her tone suddenly shifted.
Her moderately calm gaze turned freezing cold, stabbing toward Soren like a blade dipped in ice.
“If I find out you ran away…”
She left the second half of the sentence unsaid, but the obsession and warning swirling in her eyes carried more weight than any verbal threat.
Soren went rigid all over from her gaze, the escape plan that had just ignited in his heart instantly suppressed by more than half.
He unconsciously gripped his shirt hem, his fingertips turning white, able only to lower his head and let out a muffled, dejected “Mhm.”
The moment Rosaria’s figure vanished around the street corner, with the wind at the alley entrance still carrying the cold fragrance brushed from her hem, Venti used the cover of the Anemo element to float down behind Soren like a feather.
He deliberately quieted his breathing, muffling even the sound of his shoes brushing against the ground to the absolute minimum.
Only when he was a half-step away from Soren did he lightly raise his hand, his fingertips carrying a trace of breezy chill, to gently tap Soren’s back.
“Do you want me to help you escape?”
Venti’s voice was pressed incredibly low, while carrying a hint of confident cheerfulness, as if presenting a treasure as he waited for Soren’s response.
The moment the words fell, Soren’s body stiffened abruptly.
Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, he whipped around, his hands instinctively coming up defensively in front of his chest, a short shriek bursting from his throat.
“Ah!”
The sound still carried a lingering tremor.
Only when he clearly saw that it was Venti did Soren clutch his chest, panting heavily.
His face had paled by several shades, his voice full of shaken, lingering resentment.
“Seriously…
why did you just pop out of nowhere!
Don’t scare me like that!”
Venti was taken aback by his reaction, then scratched his head and smiled with a bit of sheepishness.
“Well, I was afraid of being spotted by Rosaria, so I specifically used the Anemo element to mask my footsteps.”
As he spoke, he pointed to the swirling teal wind currents around his feet.
Venti took half a step back, swaying his body with his hands behind his back.
The teal tips of his hair gently brushed past his shoulders with his movements, his tone filled with the confidence of someone saying “I’m definitely not lying.”
“As the Anemo Archon, if I wanted to take you away, no one in Mondstadt could stop me.”
He paused, deliberately dragging out his words, and even tapped his chest with a “look how amazing I am” look.
“But as you know, I’ve been ‘absent’ for so long.
I can’t just use my divine power willy-nilly.
If word got out, it would really ruin my image as a ‘bard’!”
At this point, he suddenly leaned closer to Soren, blinking his deep blue eyes rapidly, as if sharing some magnificent scheme.
“So, I’ve decided to pull a few strings and ask Kaeya for help.
He’s got plenty of connections; finding an inconspicuous path out of Mondstadt should be a piece of cake for him!”
Soren stared at his confident display, not believing a single word.
He knew Venti’s personality all too well.
Every time he claimed he’d “pull a few strings to ask for a favor,” it usually didn’t end well.
He arched an eyebrow, his tone carrying a trace of helpless exasperation from seeing right through him.
“Are you sure it’s not because you can’t get Kaeya to help yourself, and in the end, I’ll have to go beg him in person?”
At this, Venti’s movements visibly faltered.
His eyes wandered, and he instinctively rubbed his nose, though he remained stubbornly mouthy.
“How could that be!
I’m the Anemo Archon, how could Kaeya not show me some respect…”
His voice grew smaller and smaller as he spoke, until he finally just changed the subject altogether.
“Oh, forget about all that.
Let’s go find Kaeya first!
If we wait, it’ll be too late!”
With that, he grabbed Soren’s wrist and pulled him away into the distance.