For the next three days, Virelle kept Lia hidden as if her very soul depended on it.
Because, perhaps, it did.
Every time a servant knocked, Virelle sprang into action—slipping Lia into a wardrobe, nestling her beneath the bed, even once lowering her into a laundry basket and pretending she was carrying soiled sheets. Each time, her heart thundered so loudly Da-eun could hear it even in her tiny kitten body.
And yet—Virelle never hesitated.
Not even once.
She fed Lia from her own plate, saving pieces of tender bread or carefully slicing slivers of meat into kitten-appropriate bites. She brushed Lia's fur with her fingers, whispering to her softly after the curtains were drawn and the candlelight flickered low.
At night, she would lie beside her on the bed, one hand resting gently over Lia's little back, like she was making sure she was still there.
Safe. Breathing.
Alive.
---
One evening, the estate was more chaotic than usual. There had been a noble guest in the main hall. The maids scurried. The head butler barked orders. Everything reeked of pomp and formality.
Virelle used the chaos as a distraction and snuck back into her room, cradling Lia close against her chest inside her cloak.
Once the door closed behind them, she exhaled a long, shaking breath and sat down on the bed, drawing the kitten into her lap.
"You're everything to me now," she whispered.
Lia blinked.
She hadn't expected to hear that aloud. It startled her, how raw and unfiltered Virelle's voice sounded in that moment. No calculated coldness. No controlled poise.
Just a lonely girl and her one secret comfort.
"You probably don't understand," Virelle said, staring down at her hands, "but I've never had anyone stay."
She didn't look up, even as Lia shifted and crawled into her lap, curling into a ball of fur that pulsed with warmth.
"I had a brother once," Virelle continued, voice soft and far away. "He died when I was eight in an accident with my mother... . Father was already a statue before that, but after… he became ice."
A pause.
"And then she came. The second wife. She called me things I didn't understand. Took my books. Told the staff to pretend I didn't exist. And they did. No one spoke to me unless it was to scold me."
Lia leaned against her, purring. Virelle gently placed a hand over her tiny head.
"You… you didn't run away," Virelle murmured. "Even when I hid you. Even when I stuffed you in a box like some thing. You stayed."
She laughed. It was a soft, bitter sound. "Maybe I'm selfish, thinking of you as mine. But if I let you go, I think I'd vanish too."
Lia's ears twitched.
She wanted to scream, You're not selfish. You're human. You're a child!
But she couldn't speak. Not yet.
So instead, she curled tighter against Virelle's leg, her tiny paw resting over the girl's fingers.
And Virelle smiled.
Only a little. But it was real.
---
> Lia's Thoughts (Da-eun's POV):
She's breaking, little by little. But not because she's weak.
Because no one ever let her rest.
I watched her—this girl who was meant to be the villainess, the monster, the scheming noble brat the world turned its back on. And I realized the story had never seen her. Not really.
But I had.
And I would not let it crush her again.
> I will protect you. Somehow. I don't care if I'm stuck in this fur-covered prison for eternity—your story won't end in blood this time.
---
The next morning, Virelle sat by her writing desk, scribbling in a black leather notebook. She had tucked Lia into her lap, petting her absentmindedly.
"I've decided I need to find out why you're so special."
Lia tilted her head.
"You're not a normal cat. You look at me like you know what I'm saying. You nod. You cry. You comfort me when I fall apart."
She turned, her green eyes sharp and inquisitive now. "And you have silver fur and one blue eye. That's not common. You don't even meow like other cats. It's like… like you're part spirit."
Lia froze.
> Crap. She's onto me. Already?!
"But I don't care," Virelle added quickly, scratching under Lia's chin. "Even if you were a demon sent to steal my soul, I'd still hide you in my wardrobe and feed you steak."
Lia purred involuntarily.
Virelle grinned. "See? Possessed or not, you're mine now."
She glanced toward the window, where storm clouds brewed above the rooftops.
"I'll figure out how to keep you safe. I'll find a way to make this house fear me again. I'm done being silent."
> And I'll figure out how to protect you, Lia thought in return. Even if it means changing the entire plot.
Because one thing was now very clear to her:
Virelle Elerian wasn't a villainess.
She was a survivor.
And Lia would be damned—again—if she let her go down without a fight.