Soren still hadn’t let go of the hem of his shirt, the coldness from his fingertips creeping up through the fabric, making his chest tighten as well.
He watched Eula’s retreating back.
Her blue hair shimmered with fragmented light under the moon.
Though she had deliberately slowed her pace, her steps still exuded an irresistible force.
As he followed her up to the second floor, the wooden stairs creaked softly.
The silence of the night felt drawn out, and Soren could even hear his own unsteady breathing.
Eula stopped in front of a door.
When she reached out to push it open, her movements were uncharacteristically gentle.
The room was carpeted in light gray, with a solid wood desk near the window.
On the desk lay half-eaten Almond Tofu, indicating the room had been tidied up in advance.
“Go on in,” Eula said, stepping aside to let him pass.
Her gaze swept over his tense back, her tone softening a bit, though it still carried a trace of her awkward stubbornness.
“The bedding was just aired out, so it smells like fresh sunshine.
If you find it too rigid…
you’ll just have to make do for now.”
Just as Soren took half a step inside, his wrist was suddenly caught in a gentle grip.
He looked back and met Eula’s eyes–within them still lingered a thick possessiveness that hadn’t quite faded, but now mixed with an imperceptible panic, as if she were terrified he would run away.
“Um…” Eula pursed her lips, her fingertips unconsciously brushing over the skin of his wrist, her voice dropping very low.
“If you hear any noises during the night, don’t be scared.
My room is right next door.
If you…
if you call out, I’ll hear you.”
Soren didn’t dare nod, nor did he dare shake his head.
He only gave his wrist a gentle tug.
Eula seemed to suddenly realize what she was doing.
She abruptly let go, her fingertips still hanging in mid-air.
With her ears turning red, she practically fled as she turned away.
“I-I’m right next door.
If anything happens…
don’t keep it to yourself, tell me.”
The door closed with a soft click, hiding Eula’s flustered, retreating figure outside.
Soren froze where he stood.
The cool sensation from her fingertips still lingered on his wrist like a band of unyielding frost, tightening around his heart.
He walked to the window.
Just as he was about to draw back the curtain to look at the moonlit courtyard, he heard a faint rustling outside the door–the sound of fabric brushing against fabric, followed by the hesitant dragging of footsteps on the floorboards.
Soren held his breath, clearly discerning that the figure was leaning right against the outside of the door, refusing to leave.
“If the bedding really is too rigid…” Eula’s voice filtered through the door, even lower than before and laced with a subtle awkwardness.
“Don’t just endure it.
I have another thin blanket in my room.
Although I’m used to using it…
it’s not like I can’t give it to you.”
Soren didn’t respond.
The hallway fell quiet again for a moment, followed by a very soft huff that almost melted into the night.
“What a hassle.
If I’d known, I wouldn’t have agreed to that jerk Kaeya’s request.”
Though they were words of complaint, the tenderness in her tone was impossible to hide.
After an unknown amount of time, the footsteps outside finally drifted away, and the door to the neighboring room shut carefully.
Soren let out a sigh of relief and lay back down on the bed.
In a daze, as the moonlight outside the window gradually faded and he was just about to fall asleep, he suddenly heard a soft clatter from next door, like something dropping to the floor.
Soren woke up right away.
Just as he was about to sit up, he heard Eula’s muffled voice coming from next door.
“He’s just an outsider…
Why should I care if he sleeps well or not?”
Then came the rustle of fabric.
“I’m just afraid he won’t have any energy tomorrow, and then people will say I’m a terrible host!”
The words sounded as if they were meant to convince herself, but the panic in her voice was unmistakable.
Soren gripped the corner of his blanket tightly and didn’t dare make a sound.
Only when the neighboring room fell completely silent did he lie back down.
….
As dawn approached, Soren was awakened by a light knocking on his door.
He rubbed his eyes and stood up.
Just as he reached the door, he heard Eula’s voice.
“If you’re awake, come out quickly.
I made porridge.”
Her tone still carried a trace of stubbornness, but Soren could faintly detect the nervousness in her voice.
“Don’t dawdle.
Porridge doesn’t taste good once it goes cold.”
He opened the door and saw Eula standing outside.
She had changed into a light purple casual outfit, her blue hair tied behind her head, and she was holding a white porcelain bowl.
Seeing Soren come out, she immediately handed the bowl over while averting her gaze.
“Drink it quickly.
I spent a long time cooking it.
If it’s not to your liking…
well, that’s just too bad.”
Soren took the bowl, a comforting warmth spreading from his fingertips.
Inside the porridge sat a poached egg, its yolk perfectly soft and runny.
He lowered his head and took a sip.
The delicate sweetness of rice filled his mouth, accompanied by a faint hint of sweet osmanthus; it was prepared in the Liyue style, indicating she had clearly put deep thought into it.
“How is it?” Eula couldn’t help but ask when she saw him stay silent.
The expectation in her voice was impossible to hide, but she quickly corrected herself.
“C-Consider yourself lucky; I just happened to have some leftover sweet osmanthus.
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
Just as Soren was about to thank her, he noticed Eula’s expression suddenly darken.
Her gaze landed on his other hand–the one Rosaria had gripped tightly the day before.
Although not injured, faint red marks were still visible.
“That woman Rosaria really doesn’t know her own strength.”
Eula’s voice grew cold.
Her fingers unconsciously gripped her hem, and that familiar possessiveness welled up in her eyes once more.
“Stay far away from her in the future.
With me here, no one will lay a single finger on you again.”
Her words carried an unyielding firmness, yet Soren noticed her ears flushing red.
She quickly averted her gaze.
“And don’t get the wrong idea.
I just don’t want anyone to be treated unfairly while under my roof.
Understand?”
“I…
I understand…” Soren nodded in response, his fingers still subconsciously gripping the rim of the porridge bowl.
The warmth of the porcelain couldn’t completely soothe the tension in his chest.
Barely two seconds after he spoke, a light, rhythmic knocking sounded at the door–brisk and brimming with unmistakable energy.
Eula moved faster than the sound could travel.
She stood up almost the exact instant the knocking began, her brow furrowing–she hadn’t expected any sudden visitors.
She threw a quick glance back at Soren, her tone carrying a quiet warning: “Wait here.
Don’t move.”
With that, she turned and headed for the door, her steps a fraction faster than usual, as if terrified the person outside would burst in.
The hinge creaked softly as she pulled the door open just a crack, and a crisp, lively voice immediately filtered inside, carrying the fresh scent of the morning sun.
“Eula!
Good morning!
I came to see you!
Surprised?”
Amber practically pushed her way through the door to peek inside, her orange-red ponytail swaying merrily as she moved, holding an oilpaper package that emitted a faint, savory aroma of roasted meat through the creases.
Seeing Eula, her eyes lit up.
She held up the oilpaper package in her hand.
“I made Sticky Honey Roast this morning, and I brought a portion just for you!
It’s fresh out of the pan, still hot!”
As she spoke, Amber was about to step further inside when her gaze inadvertently drifted over Eula’s shoulder, landing on Soren sitting by the living room table.
She froze mid-step, blinked, and tilted her head in curiosity.
“Huh?
Eula, who is this…?”
Eula reacted instantly, stepping sideways to block Amber’s view.
Her tone was somewhat awkward, but she deliberately tried to change the subject.
“It’s nothing.
Just a friend staying over temporarily.
Weren’t you headed out for morning practice?
You should get going; if you keep dawdling, the sun will be high in the sky before you know it.”
“A friend staying over?” Amber’s curiosity only grew, and she leaned in a bit closer, trying to get a clear look at Soren.
“But Eula, you’ve never brought anyone home before!
And he looks so unfamiliar.
Is he from Mondstadt?”
The hand hanging at Eula’s side unconsciously gripped her hem, her fingertips brushing against the subtle patterns in the fabric.
Her heart felt like a frantic rabbit bouncing around inside her chest.
She remained silent for two seconds, the redness on her ears still lingering.
Ultimately, she let out a quiet sigh and stiffly stepped aside, completely exposing Soren to Amber’s view.
Her tone still carried her characteristic pride, though it lacked some of her previous stiffness, replaced by a subtle, awkward reluctance.
“His name is Soren.
We met recently…
Judging by his clothes and the way he talks, he’s probably from Liyue.”
Amber smiled and waved at Soren.
“Hi!
Hello there!
My name is Amber, Outrider of the Knights of Favonius!”
…