Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1798: The Real Big Sis

Kaede, however, was anything but steady. Her eyes were red, her fingers twisted in her lap, and everything about the way she sat said she was keeping herself upright through stubbornness alone.

Ayame crossed the room and stopped in front of her. ”How do you feel?”

”...Terrible.”

Ayame’s mouth stayed level. She nodded in understanding.

Losing most of her stats, getting carved apart in the arena, then healed while everyone else interrogated the elders who, as she learned today, were using her as a pawn.

The toll of all that would’ve put anyone on the floor. ”I can imagine,” Ayame nodded.

Kaede’s fingers tangled tighter at that. ”Ayame...” She opened her mouth, closed it, and the guilt pressing behind her eyes stayed where it was.

Ayame turned to the two healer souls stationed on either side of the frail oriental woman. ”Take her to a room and put her to bed. Get her something easy to digest, and fresh water.”

They came forward, each taking one of Kaede’s arms, and the younger Fujimori let herself be hauled upright without resistance.

But she looked back.

”Sister...”

Ayame didn’t turn. Kaede waited, and when no answer came she lowered her head and let the healer souls guide her through the doorway.

The footsteps faded down the hall.

”You’re strong.”

Black Fang’s voice came from behind her, flat and unhurried.

Ayame’s hands curled together at her sides. ”It’s really hard. Even just looking at her without trembling takes all that I have.”

The hard line of Black Fang’s mouth eased by a fraction, and she stepped closer.

Ayame didn’t wait. She crossed the remaining distance on her own and pressed her face into Black Fang’s neck, arms wrapping tight around her waist.

Unlike the first time, the body she held didn’t go rigid. The flinch was gone.

Black Fang’s arms came up and closed around Ayame’s shoulders, less stiff than before. She was a fast learner.

”Even being able to stay in the same room shows great fortitude.” Black Fang’s chin rested above Ayame’s head. ”If it were me, I would’ve killed her and moved on.”

Ayame giggled against her chest, and the sound was still a little wet around the edges. She tilted her face up, eyes red but bright. ”That’s why I’m the actual biggest sister.”

Black Fang raised an eyebrow.

”You might be older by four hundred years-”

”Three hundred and eighty,” Black Fang corrected instantly.

”Hehe~” Ayame’s giggle deepened, the color coming back into her voice. ”Fine, three hundred and eighty, but you didn’t have the chance to mature the way people are supposed to. Growing up in terrible circumstances, killing creatures from the age of three, abandoned in a forest...”

She looked up at the unamused face with warmth that didn’t bother being subtle. ”One could argue you’re still a kid in a woman’s body.”

The raised eyebrow flattened into narrowed eyes. Black Fang did not agree with this.

Not one bit.

But before she could voice the disagreement, Ayame reached up and placed her palm on top of Black Fang’s head.

”???” Black Fang looked more bewildered by this gesture than anything she’d learned today.

Ayame, observing the perfect expression she’d not forget for a long time, finished her statement: ”So naturally, the real big sister has to be the stronger one.”

Black Fang went still.

Her gaze traveled upward to where Ayame’s hand sat on her hair, then came back down, and the temperature in that stare dropped considerably.

Ayame removed the hand with alarming speed and grinned wide enough to show teeth.

Black Fang’s expression eased, but barely. ”Your logic is faulty. I’ve had plenty of time to mature despite the circumstances of my early life.” The flatness in her tone sharpened. ”And are you really the mature big sister if you keep hugging me so emotionally?”

Ayame waved the observation away like a fly. ”Irrelevant.”

”It’s anything but.”

”Moving on.” Ayame clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. ”How about you tell me some stories? There’s so much I still don’t know about you...”

Her gaze drifted downward to Black Fang’s belly, where the Bloodfather mark lay beneath the fabric, dim and inactive.

”Starting with...”

The ominous aura that followed was immediate.

Black Fang’s hand came down and caught Ayame under the chin with a single finger, tilting her face back up in a tap that carried more menace than most people could fit into a drawn weapon.

Ayame met the unamused violet stare with the purest expression of cheek the Fujimori bloodline had ever produced.

Then she grabbed Black Fang’s hand. ”Come. Let’s talk in my room.”

Quinlan watched the two of them walk away, well, one walking and the other letting herself be dragged by extreme reluctance, Black Fang’s hand still caught in Ayame’s grip.

Watching the beautiful sisterly moment, warmth of fulfillment bloomed in his chest.

What a gorgeous heart warming scene that was to witness.

At the last moment, Ayame glanced over her shoulder and found his eyes.

”>

A beat. Then, softer, with a bashfulness that crept through the bond like warmth through cold hands, she added:

”>

Quinlan’s grin spread slow. He remembered exactly what she was referring to, an old desire of hers she once told him with gorgeous, flustered cheeks.

”>

Her smile sharpened, pure Ayame, mischief and affection tangled past separating, and then the two sisters turned the corner and were gone.

The corridor went still.

Footsteps faded in every direction, laughter trailing behind some, comfortable silence behind others, until the only sound left was the faint hum of the mansion settling around the two men who hadn’t moved.

Quinlan turned to find Alexios exactly where he’d been since they stepped out of the soul realm. Standing, one hand loose on his sword hilt, staring through the floor.

”You were rather quiet in there, old friend.” He started toward the passage that led deeper into the mansion, and the old king fell into step beside him without protest. ”My girls did all the detective work.”

”We’re not friends. Banish the thought immediately,” Alexios muttered. The objection was so automatic it barely qualified.

”Eh. Are we not?”

”No, we aren’t. I’m not confident why your wives seem to believe otherwise.”

”Wait, are you a tsundere? At age one thousand? Come on...” Quinlan chuckled, shaking his head.

”A what? Speak the language of Thalorind.”

”I’ll think about it.”

”...”

They walked. Light from narrow windows striped the stone floor, and the banter drained away with every step.

”They were on top of things.” Alexios’s voice came low, and the dry humor was gone from it.

Quinlan glanced sideways. The old king’s face had gone still in the way it did when everything behind it was running at full speed.

”Yeah,” Quinlan said, letting the word carry. ”My girls are far too amazing, as always. I often find myself wanting to blend into the background just so I can listen to them lead the conversation as I simply marvel at them all.”

”... Can’t say I know the feeling,” Alexios grumbled, and received a pat on the back.

”Many lasses out there, old friend.”

”...” Alexios didn’t respond. His grip shifted on the hilt, and the two of them descended the stairs toward the basement where Iris and Gorthrax were waiting.