The next day, when Isis awoke from her bed, she felt a profound weariness that reached deep into her soul.
Her body’s lifespan had reached its very limit; even rising from the bed now felt exceptionally strenuous.
Beacai had specially prepared her nightgown, a white, off-the-shoulder mini-dress. It not only beautifully revealed her two pale thighs but also gracefully accentuated her exquisite figure.
‘She claims not to like revealing clothes, yet her actions speak volumes, Beacai.’
After a quiet mental grumble, she laboriously changed out of the nightgown and turned her gaze to the dresses in the wardrobe.
As if to highlight her former status as a deity, these dresses appeared exceedingly opulent, yet were remarkably cumbersome to wear. Donning them left her utterly exhausted.
Nevertheless, she eventually finished dressing and approached the mirror.
The dress resembled an evening gown, hugging her hips and cinching her slender waist, thus making her figure even more pronounced.
The intricate patterns on the skirt shimmered with faint golden light under the candlelight. In that fleeting moment, she felt as though she saw Yggdrasil, seated upon the Elven Throne.
She had only ever dressed so lavishly during her time as a goddess. Since moving with Nona to live in Anhel Town, she had never adorned herself in such a manner again.
Filled with a touch of nostalgia, Isis reluctantly turned away from the mirror and opened her room door. At that very instant, warm sunlight streamed in through the window.
She froze.
‘Shouldn’t Beacai’s divine realm be eerie and terrifying?’
She walked to the window and gazed up at the sky. What should have been a canvas of crimson clouds was now a clear, boundless expanse, with white clouds churning and drifting into the distance on the wind.
‘Yesterday, Beacai didn’t just conjure the starry sky, did she?’
For reasons unknown, seeing the sunlight significantly brightened Isis’s mood. As she admired the view, Beacai slowly appeared from one end of the corridor, her high heels clicking softly.
“Mama, you’re awake?”
She approached Isis, and seeing her rather haggard face, asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Did you not sleep well?”
Rubbing her eyes, Isis lied, “It’s nothing, I just haven’t fully woken up yet.”
Her weariness stemmed from her rapidly dwindling lifespan, not from a poor night’s sleep. However, she didn’t want Beacai to know this, as there was no telling what an evil god might do to someone on the brink of death.
Her greatest hope now was simply to pass these final two days in peace.
“Oh, I see.”
Beacai didn’t dwell on it. Suddenly recalling something, she grabbed Isis’s wrist, intending to lead her towards the kitchen.
“Mama, come make a cake with me! This time, I’ve prepared plenty of ingredients, so there won’t be any more mishaps!”
Isis was pulled along by Beacai for a couple of steps, nearly tripping as she struggled to keep pace. Fortunately, Beacai quickly stopped, turned, and steadied her.
“Why are you so insistent on making a cake? I could teach you something else.”
“Because Nona doesn’t make cakes.”
Whenever Nona was mentioned, Beacai’s tone would lighten considerably, and her mood seemed to improve. Isis, however, let out a soft sigh.
“Beacai, you are you, not Nona. There’s no need to compare yourself to her in everything; you two are different.”
Beacai would become delighted if she could surpass Nona in even the smallest way, as if achieving victory in her role as a daughter. Isis truly did not wish to see this.
Beacai was Beacai; her personality and actions should be unique. She didn’t need to compare herself to anyone else; she simply needed to be herself.
Of course, her words were also, in part, meant to protect Nona.
After all, being constantly fixated on by an evil god was too dangerous. There was no telling when Beacai might suddenly lose her mind and seize Nona.
Beacai understood her meaning, but upon hearing Isis speak those words, her cheeks still flushed uncontrollably.
“I was just joking, really,” she replied casually.
‘Is Mama worried that I don’t have my own identity?’
She truly adored this feeling of being cared for; it was sweeter than honey and irresistibly addictive.
“Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll teach you.”
Looking at her, Isis no longer refused.
This was her repayment for Beacai showing her the starry sky last night.
****
Upon entering the kitchen, Isis immediately spotted multiple sets of ingredients laid out on the counter. Just as Beacai had said, even if there were more mishaps, it wouldn’t matter this time.
After tying aprons on Beacai and herself, she recalled the cake-making process, instructing Beacai step by step. However, when they reached the stage of adding sugar, she paused.
Following what she had seen yesterday, Beacai scooped a spoonful of salt, preparing to mix it into the ingredients. But Isis suddenly reached out, stopping her.
Pointing to the box next to the salt, she said, “This is sugar. Use this one.”
Now it was Beacai’s turn to be surprised. She tilted her head, asking in confusion, “But I remember, Mama added this one last time, didn’t you?”
A delicate sheen of perspiration appeared on Isis’s forehead. Crossing her arms and turning her head away, she feigned composure as she replied, “…Well, the flavor is just different.”
Seeing her expression, Beacai blinked, as if sensing something amiss. Then, she leaned closer to Isis and sniffed, a slight curve appearing at the corner of her lips.
‘Sniffing what? Could she smell the scent of my lie?’
As Beacai remained silent, Isis grew somewhat anxious, fearing that the evil god had discovered something and might erupt into madness once more.
Thankfully, Beacai ultimately just added two spoonfuls of sugar to the cake mixture, then asked, “So, when I make cakes in the future, can I add that one?”
“…It’s best not to.”
‘Unless you want to die of saltiness.’
Isis had found the previous cake unbearably salty after just one bite. She couldn’t fathom how Beacai had managed to eat the entire thing.
“Got it.”
With that single phrase, Beacai didn’t press the matter further. Isis secretly patted her chest in relief and continued teaching her how to bake.
However, due to her overwhelming fatigue, her mind had grown somewhat sluggish, causing her to forget to tell Beacai the precise baking time for the cake.
By the time they hastily retrieved the cake…
“Is this black lump the cake I just put in? It doesn’t quite look like it…”
Beacai blinked her eyes, her face a picture of innocence, while Isis could only cover her face and toss the utterly burnt cake into the trash.
It was merely one failure; they still had several more chances.
During their second attempt, the steps were all correct, and Isis didn’t forget the time. When Beacai took out the cake, she couldn’t help but gasp, barely believing she had made it herself.
The final step was to frost the cake with cream, shaping it however they liked.
There was little to teach for this step; Isis thought it best to let Beacai express herself freely. A moment later, however, she beheld a cake that defied description.
It was adorned with various colors of cream, piled together as if attempting to form a shape. Yet, the creator’s technique was so bizarre that the result looked somewhat like a visual assault.
‘Truly, a creation worthy of an evil god.’
Staring at it, Isis fell into contemplation.
‘So Beacai likes this kind of thing?’
She respected the preferences of every deity, even evil gods. But as she looked at Beacai, the latter’s face flushed. She casually stepped in front of Isis, using her body to block the cake from view.
If Isis hadn’t misheard, Beacai had even mumbled a soft, “So ugly,” under her breath.
‘Was she… shy?’
Isis chuckled.
Beacai pressed her lips together, utterly unwilling to admit defeat. After erasing the cream with magic, she tried several more times, each attempt ending in failure, her face growing red with frustration.
Unable to watch any longer, Isis quietly moved behind her. As Beacai picked up the piping bag and brush once more, Isis gently took her hand.
Leaning close to her ear, she softly said, “Let me help you.”