A Morning of Secrets and Stew

Had my plan failed?

Stella awoke, her first thought lingering on Mylian’s expression just before she lost consciousness.

Mylian’s eyes, filled with vengeance and ruthlessness, and her cold, unforgiving commands, unequivocally declared that Stella’s self-rescue plan had made no progress.

Finally steeling herself to face reality, Stella opened her eyes.

The sunlight outside the window was gentle, and the gradually warming room was no longer cold. People were gathered around her.

“Stella, do you feel unwell anywhere?” Delilah gently touched Stella’s forehead, a touch born of maternal worry.

“Mother, I’m fine. My head just feels a little heavy at the back.” Stella truly felt this way, unable to recall anything that happened after she fainted.

“Oh, you’re just like Mylian. Two little invalids, taking turns falling ill, yet stubbornly refusing to say anything.” Delilah seemed to know the truth, her expression one of helplessness.

“What illness do I have?”

“Sleep deprivation, coupled with excessive mental stress. Have you been staying up late recently?”

Delilah tenderly stroked Stella’s hand, then tucked the blankets more snugly around her.

“I haven’t been staying up particularly late, Mother. Look, I’m still quite energetic.” Stella forced a smile, but her true feelings were far from happy, making the smile appear utterly false.

“You’re lying. Is there something troubling you that you don’t want to tell me? Mama wants to hear what’s in your heart.” Delilah rose and sat on the bed beside Stella, pressing close to her.

“Mother, I truly haven’t encountered any difficulties. Everything will be fine in a few days.” Stella could not reveal her secret to Delilah; this was something she had to handle herself.

“Stella, you’ve grown and changed. You have secrets you’re unwilling to share with your mother.” Delilah looked at Stella, feeling a wall between them despite their closeness.

“I’m sorry… Mother.” Stella could only apologize, keeping her inner thoughts to herself.

“The old you would cry and fuss, coming to me whenever you faced a problem. I used to find it quite bothersome back then. Now you’ve suddenly grown up. Alas, how quickly time passes.” Delilah sighed deeply, gently brushing Stella’s bangs aside.

Stella silently looked up, noticing that Delilah’s eyes were slightly red.

“Stella, you and Mylian are both my daughters. No matter what insurmountable difficulties you face in the future, please tell us. We will fully support your righteous decisions. We are your strongest backing.”

Delilah seemed unable to continue speaking. She moved away from Stella, adjusting her daughter’s blankets again to ensure she was warm, only then feeling a little relieved.

“Your sister will be here to look after you soon. Get some good rest; we leave tomorrow.”

“Yes, goodbye, Mother.”

Stella watched Delilah leave, her mood plummeting to rock bottom once more. How would she face her sister, and what would she say when she arrived?

However, time did not wait for Stella to ponder.

Creak.

Mylian pushed the door open and entered the room. Her body had fully recovered, and she strode purposefully towards Stella’s bed.

Whoosh.

A gentle gust of wind stirred Stella’s eyelashes. She turned to look at Mylian, her neck retreating further into the covers.

“Sister… good morning.”

“Good morning. Has your illness improved?”

“It’s alright.”

“You…”

“I’m fine.”

“I haven’t asked yet, are you hungry?”

Mylian frowned at Stella’s terse reply. Stella was afraid of her, truly terrified to the point of panic upon seeing her.

Although the priest confirmed it was due to late nights and stress, Mylian felt her own actions were largely to blame. She felt guilty about yesterday’s behavior and intended to look after her often-disliked younger sister.

“I’m hungry… I mean, not really.”

Stella reconsidered, changing her answer to ‘not hungry.’ She maintained her distance from Mylian.

“Are you hungry or not?”

Mylian leaned closer, her eyes demanding a clear answer from Stella.

“Then… not hungry.”

Stella actually wanted to be left alone, but Mylian mistook her for sulking.

Ah… this is so difficult for her.

What is she thinking? Did I scare her yesterday, causing her to deliberately distance herself? I haven’t even settled the score yet!

Mylian scratched her head, feeling annoyed. However, she had promised Delilah to look after her sister for a day, just as her sister had looked after her yesterday.

“What do you like to eat?”

“Nothing.”

“Name something, quickly.”

“Ugh… tomato stew… stewed beef brisket.”

Stella finally spoke, her blue eyes observing Mylian with a humble gaze. Her timid demeanor evoked pity.

Why do I seem like a tyrant?

Mylian grew more perplexed. However, having finally gotten the name of Stella’s favorite food, all she had to do was make it.

“You wait here.”

Mylian opened the door and left the room, but the words “You wait here” echoed in Stella’s mind, refusing to fade.

What is she making me wait for?

Judging by Mylian’s irritable tone, Stella believed she had annoyed her sister again. She had to get out of bed and see.

Draping a warm white cloak over herself and stepping into slippers, Stella walked through the corridor. She heard the maids gathering in one direction.

A crowd has gathered in the kitchen?

Stella decided to follow and investigate. Thanks to her recent efforts to move discreetly, her footsteps and movements were naturally well-concealed, and the maids did not notice her.

“Miss Mylian, the raw beef brisket should first be blanched with ginger slices. And you forgot to cut it into pieces.”

“I know. I’ll do it myself; you just guide me from the side.”

Mylian, clad in an apron, busied herself in front of the cooking utensils. Her clumsy knife skills resulted in unevenly cut brisket pieces, looking as if she might easily cut herself.

Sister intends to cook for me personally?

Stella felt a surge of curiosity, but recalling her sister’s words about ‘equality,’ she seemed to understand it once more.

Mylian was meticulous about emotional debts: if you treated her well, she remembered it; if you treated her poorly, she remembered that too. Her gratitude repaid a hundredfold, and her revenge was no different.

Stella observed the kitchen for a while before returning to her room. Lying back in bed, she pondered and analyzed the connection between her sister’s expression yesterday and her behavior today.

There’s a hint of affection, but not much. Moreover, Sister’s twisted feelings for me lean more towards imprisonment; this is already the dominant trend.

It’s only different when I’m Della; then Sister would even blush and act shy around me.

Stella was certain that her true self couldn’t win over her sister; she could only endure daily bullying. Compliance was the appropriate course of action.

However, Della could take the initiative, at least to become her sister’s ‘white moonlight’! Only then would there be a chance to turn the tables later.

Stella solidified her strategy, but the consequences naturally became foreseeable.

If my affection isn’t enough, but I reveal my true intentions midway, Mylian will surely lock me up and interrogate me fiercely. It’s not impossible that I might even be ‘turned into a little cake.’

“Will I win?”

Stella gazed at the ceiling. The upcoming trip to Twilight Academy was a turning point, and her only chance to bring about change.