Deep within the parlor of the countess's estate.
The night was deep, and the moonlight seemed all the more distinct.
Countess Rosalinda sat at one end of the sofa, while Lanqi and Talia sat at the other.
Hearing Rosalinda's words, Talia's eyes flickered with a hint of unnaturalness, though her expression remained completely impassive.
She knew that Countess Rosalinda's romantic rival—the immovable, rightful demon wife—was none other than her younger sister, Efatia.
"Please, go on," Lanqi said.
Lanqi had received professional training; whenever he listened to a story, he always maintained an earnest and calm demeanor.
While the hysterics of a sore loser could easily coax an unintentional chuckle, that was a negligible detail.
"God only knows how old that woman actually is! It's true she doesn't age, but that doesn't mean she's actually young!"
Tears welled in the corners of Countess Rosalinda's eyes as she poured her heart out to them.
"Every time I saw her sit down, she'd immediately sprawl out on the sofa with her head in Mikhail's lap. Aside from meal times, she practically spent all twenty-four hours a day with her eyes blissfully closed, and she even made Mikhail carry her on his back whenever she had to walk anywhere! It was like a cat was clawing at my heart!"
She had clearly tried so hard, yet she still couldn't hold a candle to that demon woman. Before she even realized it, Mikhail had already been completely captivated by her—it was utterly incomprehensible to her.
"..."
Lanqi turned his head to look at Talia.
*Your younger sister certainly has a distinct personality. Does Hyperion know she's like this?*
Talia shook her head gently.
*Hyperion doesn't know.*
Talia couldn't bear to shatter Hyperion's fantasies about her mother.
If they truly brought Efatia back, Efatia would probably demand that Hyperion take care of her; it would be hard to tell who was the mother and who was the daughter.
In a way, Efatia leaving Hyperion when she was young had been a blessing in disguise. Otherwise, Hyperion might have had to learn how to take care of her mother at only a few years old—Talia could never bear the thought of honest little Hyperion being subjected to child labor.
Lanqi fell into deep thought.
Though Miss Efatia was also a demon, and might sometimes seem aloof on the surface, she lacked the nuanced charm that came from eight centuries of maturity—Hyperion might not necessarily like that.
In an instant, Lanqi felt a chill run down his spine.
*Just like fine wine, the longer it is aged, the more captivating it becomes, and its value increases beyond measure. All one can say is that Hyperion has good taste,*
he quickly amended his thoughts.
Only then did the chill gradually thaw and disperse.
"I don't think the problem lies with you, Miss Rosalinda. Sometimes, it's just a matter of lacking that little bit of fate," Lanqi comforted the lady across the sofa.
"Be that as it may, if Mikhail had simply rejected me, I could accept it! But why did that demon woman get to win his favor? Where do I fall short compared to her?! I just can't accept it, I really can't!"
Countess Rosalinda picked up her nearly empty glass and tipped the remaining drops into her mouth, growing increasingly agitated as she spoke.
"Do you know what the worst part was? Mikhail even had to hand-feed her meals! Ugh, it literally makes me sick! Watching the two of them so willingly indulged in it—even now, just thinking about it gives me goosebumps all over!"
Countess Rosalinda continued her tearful lament.
Both Lanqi and Talia's expressions froze.
"Can you even imagine that kind of scene?! Do they have any shame as grown adults?!"
"..."
Neither Lanqi nor Talia could find any words. Subconsciously, each edged slightly away from the other.
The parlor fell silent for a moment.
"Why did you two stop talking?"
The countess wiped away her tears, her gaze gradually coming back into focus as she asked.
"Perhaps we should discuss our official business," Lanqi suggested, feeling exceptionally awkward.
"Ahem. Right, I accidentally went off on a tangent. Let's save talking about Mikhail and his wife for next time."
Countess Rosalinda cleared her throat. The flush faded from her face as she regained her dignified composure.
At any rate, she still wanted to pick up her glass for another sip, but upon confirming there was hardly a drop left in the tumbler, she stood up lightly and walked over to the liquor cabinet to select a bottle of precious red wine. She then bent down.
"Do you drink?"
Pulling two delicate goblets from the lower shelf of the cabinet, she turned her head and asked.
"I can," Talia nodded.
Low-alcohol beverages practically never got her drunk, and having a glass with dinner was quite pleasant sometimes, very helpful for sleep.
"I abstain from alcohol. Could I have a glass of sparkling water, please?" Lanqi declined with a polite smile.
"Sure! It's rare for me to have friends here to chat with, so let's drink and talk together."
Holding the wine bottle, she instructed an attendant to bring Lanqi a beverage, then walked back to the sofa and sat down.
As the red wine was slowly poured into the glasses, a rich, deep aroma spread through the air, adding a touch of crystal-clear ruby to the late night.
"I didn't expect you not to drink either, Lanqi. You're quite like Professor Borao in that regard; he never touches alcohol so he can stay sharp in the testing grounds. Mikhail, on the other hand, often sampled all kinds of liquor—he had a constitution with very high poison resistance."
Rosalinda handed a glass to Talia and then spoke to Lanqi.
"I'd rather not get arrested in the City of Flowers for drunken rowdiness," Lanqi chuckled and shook his head.
"...It's really hard to imagine you drunk," Countess Rosalinda said in surprise.
In her eyes, this junior fellow disciple was exceptionally composed in both manner and speech.
"For those with low tolerance, the greatest allure of alcohol is knowing that touching it will get you drunk, yet sometimes being unable to resist doing so anyway. And yet you can actually hold back?"
She raised an eyebrow with curiosity.
Not just alcohol, but certain people were like that too—just like wine, it was hard to say whether they were poison or the antidote.
"Evidently, I can," Lanqi answered with confidence.
Talia took a silent sip of her wine.
She was starting to realize now that Lanqi genuinely didn't drink.
According to what Lanqi's father and butler had said, there had been a period when Lanqi was heavily indulged in alcohol, but ever since meeting her, he had never touched it again, almost as if he had forgotten about alcohol entirely.
"Though it's quite embarrassing—to make a fool of ourselves right after arriving in the City of Flowers," Lanqi added to Countess Rosalinda, recalling the air disaster earlier.
"I heard. You ran into Duke Tiffany's executioner. There was nothing that could be done about it; emergency safety regulations were just implemented in the City of Flowers today. As long as you're safe and sound, that's what matters," Rosalinda answered with a sigh of relief.
Lately, incidents of cursed demons going berserk had increased exponentially, to the point where the news could no longer be suppressed. The Kingdom of Posen had decided to disclose information gradually, elevating the security control level in Palieu, the City of Flowers, to exert every effort to uncover the culprit behind the mysterious cases while minimizing panic.
Although she did not sit in the Senate, she had quickly learned about what had transpired aboard the Floating Castle airship tonight.
What truly surprised Rosalinda was not that Lanqi and Tata had encountered an incident,
but that they had managed to walk away completely unscathed from the hands of Duke Tiffany's executioner.
Chapter 667