Vierenna dashed swiftly through the dimly lit corridors, where a soft yellow glow cast a gentle light. Droplets of water dripped from her half-wet body, staining the carpeted floor. Strands of her hair clung to her neck, tickling her senses lightly. The cold air striking against her damp skin as she ran in the opposite direction only made her enjoy each bounding step forward even more.
She increased her speed while keeping her movements light, making her leaps long—like a little girl playing in a garden. Her foolish smile mirrored her joy. All thoughts, whether painful or distressing, vanished in that moment. The small things had always brought a unique kind of happiness, even if they never lasted long.
Her steps came to a halt in front of her baby brother's room. Her fleeting joy disappeared, replaced by another kind of satisfaction. But even that had to step aside for the near-serious expression she forced onto her face.
'You two need to settle things between yourselves—'
Her mother's words echoed in her mind. She had planned to leave the confrontation for the morning, yet here she was now. Wouldn't it be somewhat amusing to confront her baby brother right now?
But Vierenna didn't feel like laughing.
She brushed away the damp strands sticking to her forehead and neck. Her appearance was still visibly cold and wet.
What if he misunderstands? she thought. But she knew she was only giving herself excuses—hoping to find one convincing enough to back out. She had never been the type to hesitate, even if she were naked. Yet, she had to admit she was afraid.
Her mind only anticipated imperfect outcomes from this confrontation. That was why she had delayed it for so long.
"What am I even doing to myself?" Vierenna crouched slightly in front of the door, hands pressing against her knees. Her pale skin reddened beneath her grip. "I can't keep torturing myself like this."
She stood up again, her expression hardened and tense. Setting her belongings beside the door, she grasped the handle with a semi-firm grip.
"Don't overthink it!"
And with that, she pushed the door open.
—
Deon's room was dark and cold as death. The curtains were wide open, as were the windows. Vierenna quietly shut the door behind her, maintaining the silence, then let her gaze fall on Deon's curled-up form beneath his blankets. His training cube rested beside his head.
Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her chest, but she was here now. Besides, she could feel Deon was awake—likely aware of her presence.
She took careful, light steps toward him, stopping only when she faced his half-covered face. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, and his long hair fell over his forehead.
Vierenna's expression softened as she sat beside him. She didn't know what she would say, but she could only be herself—that was something she was good at.
She reached out and placed a hand on Deon's forehead, brushing his hair aside to reveal his full features. Her fingers then slid down to his cheek, warm despite the cold air.
"I'm angry at you," she said the moment Deon opened his eyes, looking at her hand on his face.
His gaze followed her bare hand up toward the rest of Vierenna—and his heart skipped a beat.
Before Deon could say anything—or even process why she was here—no, he understood why she was here. What he didn't understand was why she was wet and wearing such revealing clothes.
Then her hand slipped deeper toward his neck. Her touch was cold, but her skin was soft.
Deon would have shoved her hand away immediately, but his eyes were still locked on Vierenna. More specifically, the slit in her clothes beneath her hand—it gave him a nearly unobstructed side view of her chest and its general shape.
"Oh? You're heating up fast!" Vierenna teased, leaning in closer. "But I'm here for an answer."
Deon finally found the willpower to break his gaze away, only to meet her mocking face. Her eyes were lifted high in disdain, and a wide grin split her lips, revealing her white teeth.
'She was enjoying this! Madness!'
Deon tried to sit up and push her hand away, but she applied counterforce, pinning him in place on the bed.
"Not so fast, baby brother. The night is long—you'll have plenty of time to do many things."
She shifted her position on the bed, now facing him directly. Pulling the blankets off him, she revealed his nightwear but left his lower half covered. She cast a side glance in that direction before looking back at him as if she had just done him a favor.
'This is the worst day of my life. Embarrassment and humiliation!'
The look on Vierenna's face was one of muted understanding and pity—but the enjoyment hadn't faded. She was savoring his breakdown in real time.
Though nothing had reacted in Deon's body yet, he expected it to if this situation continued.
That was exactly why Vierenna had left his lower half covered.
"Let me sit up, and we can talk civilly," Deon said through gritted teeth, still struggling against Vierenna's dominance.
"You had your chance," Vierenna answered. Restraining him had been easier before, and she didn't seem bothered by his resistance. "But it seems a quick glance at my chest was more important to you."
'I suppose I can't blame him. I stare at them for long periods myself,' Vierenna thought, though she didn't say it out loud.
"Like I said, the night is long. You can keep struggling and whining, or you can surrender, and we can talk about what's bothering me. I'm not leaving your room until morning." She paused for a moment before continuing with a mischievous smile. "Look on the bright side—there's a lot for you to see. It's not every day I dress like this. And just so you know, I took a cold bath. It was—"
"I don't need the details!" Deon shouted, looking away. He kept his eyes open so he wouldn't imagine the details.
"Fine, I'll stop. But move your hand away."
Vierenna smiled as if she was going to obey—but instead, her hand slid deeper into his clothes.
Deon froze in place, making sounds that Vierenna found satisfying. She leaned over him, pressing her weight down against him. Her hand was now in an awkward position.
"Listen carefully. You are not in a position to give orders. Of course, you may have your moments of dominance over me, but I will always be on top."
As if her words weren't enough, she covered his mouth with her hand and pressed her chest against his. She slipped one of her legs between his, the bedsheets separating them, and began pushing upward toward his meeting point.
He tried to trap her legs with his, but the force he applied was meaningless to Vierenna. Her knee continued toward its intended destination without resistance.
"I can always take your dignity away."
A look of horror covered Deon's face—he looked like a small boat caught in a storm. But the most ridiculous part of the situation was how his eyes kept losing focus on her chest against his wish, even when there was so much else at stake.
"I'll free your mouth, but I want a verbal confirmation of your submission." She pressed herself harder against him, though she stopped her leg below. She wasn't that crazy. "I want you to say, 'I will always be under my dear sister's. She is in control, and I am her puppet.'"
She let go of his mouth, but no words left Deon's lips. He looked defeated, but he wasn't ready to admit it.
Vierenna seemed to understand the reason for his silence and decided to reassure him.
"Look on the bright side—you're getting a lot out of this. Every inch of your body knows it and is enjoying it."
She touched her chest while watching his eyes drift downward again.
Against her expectations, Deon's expression turned calm. His gaze still flickered across various parts of her body, but he was noticeably more composed.
"I won't say that, whether it's true or false," he said. "You said it yourself—I'm getting a lot out of this. I won't complain. Now that you know."
Vierenna was momentarily stunned by the shift in Deon's behavior. Before she could react to counter it, he threw another question at her.
"Since when did you know?"
Vierenna closed her eyes and got off of him. She knew she had lost the control she once had. If she pushed further only by relying on her strength, it would just be pointless cruelty.
Deon took the opportunity to sit up quickly. He didn't abandon the bedsheets, pulling them around himself like a protective layer.
Vierenna did nothing but watch. She simply adjusted her clothes to cover herself better. It wasn't as fun anymore, but that didn't stop Deon from stealing glances at her.
"Since when did I know, you ask?" Vierenna knew he was talking about his repressed feelings for her. "I've known all along."
She moved to sit beside him—him under the blankets, her on top of them—their shoulders touching against the bed's headboard.
"Just like you have your sword sense, I have something called 'soul sense.' Or at least, that's what Mother named it. She warned me never to tell anyone about it."
Deon looked at her as she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She rested her head on them and looked at him.
It was quite the sight to see.
"Don't tell anyone, okay?"
Deon nodded without asking for details. Instead, he asked something that intrigued him more.
"And you're okay with that? Doesn't it bother you?"
Vierenna stared at him without changing her expression. "Not really. I take it as a compliment. So I don't mind, really. And you used to talk a lot about your feelings. You don't anymore, do you?"
Deon didn't know what to say. But the way his mouth hung open put a smile on Vierenna's face.
"Only now are you thinking about whether your thoughts are appropriate? Too late, baby brother!"
"How…? How is this acceptable?! How are you okay with this?!" Deon barely managed to voice his thoughts. He couldn't understand how she could be fine with something that everyone else in the world would find wrong.
He knew she was crazy—but not this crazy.
"Don't put this on me." She raised her hands in mock defense. "This is your problem. And you're making it worse than it actually is. Though, as you described it, the Imperial family has shifted people's perceptions in recent years."
Deon still couldn't find the words to say—especially in response to her cryptic remark. Before he could even attempt to voice his frustration, Vierenna placed a hand over his mouth.
"Shh! We can talk about this later. There's still something else we need to discuss."
Despite the mocking look on her face, there was a seriousness mixed with hesitation and fear.
'So, it's time.'
Deon had been afraid before.
But looking at Vierenna beside him, none of those feelings remained.
She exaggeratedly puffed out her cheeks and said in a loud voice, "I'm mad at you." Then she buried her face between her knees.
Deon nearly laughed at the sight—but he played along, asking the question that would push the conversation forward.
"Why are you mad?"