The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 161 - Waking Up Late To Bitter Memory And... Plots?

Chapter 161: Chapter 161 - Waking Up Late To Bitter Memory And... Plots?

The light had grown brighter within the room of the Yecine estate. The blonde swordswoman stirred quite slowly while waking from a deeper sleep than she was used to. She instinctively reached for the tiny warmth that had been pressed against her side through the night.

But emptiness met her hand as well as her spiritual sense. She opened her heavy pigeon-blue eyes. Her body was reluctant to move and lose the lingering impression of Elua’s weight. She could still imagine the soft breathing against her ribs, where a small patch of dampness still marked where the brunette had dozed with her mouth open.

The hem of her shirt remained twisted and raised up from being gripped at during the reincarnator’s nightmare. The troubled murmuring from the night filtered back through her waking mind. When she had tried to shift onto her back, she had briefly heard Elua speaking in her sleep.

She had experienced the girl upset and in panic. Happy, sad, angry. Afraid to tell her something but telling her anyway. But the monotone mumbling at her was ’frightened’ in a way she’d never witnessed while she was awake.

"I don’t know how to make the medicine work... The coughing won’t stop... Please, don’t leave me alone..."

The swordswoman had tightened her hold on the small hand and the ancient cultivator stilled before letting go. The heiress turned about and began frantically burrowing closer. Even in that desperate state, her physical cultivation was tightly suppressed and her grip didn’t tear any clothing.

’It was almost like... she was trying to be a mortal in her dream.’

Staring at the empty space beside her, Qat felt she understood a little more about why her wife sometimes watched her with such intensity.

"Does losing someone really do that to you, even after all that time?"

Tendrils of spirit wavered uncertainly in the morning air. Usually, they were rigid with purpose by this time of the day as she engaged in sword training. Trying to be cognizant of their positions at all times without stopping to focus on them had been her goal.

Which is why, even without shutting her eyes, she could tell they were seeking out traces of Elua’s presence. She sighed and felt them contract around her heart, squeezing the fragment tightly while telling it and the person on the other side ’good morning’. Qatrand had been doing so every day.

Waking late made it feel like the entire morning was a loss, but she decided it was much better to get up and do something. There were plenty of ways of being productive. The bed she never had any real complaints about... now felt uncomfortably vast without her small wife curled against her.

’Missing someone who was just here. It feels kind of bitter.’

She sat up slowly with a hand smoothing over the indentation where her El had lain. Her thoughts turned to the strain she noticed forming in those mint eyes lately, the way her wife’s usual ’sweet’ had seemed even more forced. When the swordswoman was thinking of the most productive thing she could possibly do...

"I should ask for advice. Or at least let them know."

She dressed in more appropriate clothing and changed the color of her hair to the raven black that her family required. Staring into her mirror, the young cultivator decided that she would keep that look until she was able to meet with one of the Goltbred parents. She wouldn’t change on the carriage ride there.

When she could speak with someone who had watched over Elua’s sleep for years, then she would shift it - as they talked - and prove that it was a personal matter.

’I feel like I only just told her that I’m not a scheming cultivator. Now, here I am planning to impress them with my care ahead of time. Using a technique...’

---

Qatrand rode in one of her family’s carriages toward the estate of her wife’s family in silence. The Yecine doorman had informed her, when she specifically questioned, that the heiress left an hour before. The certainty of her purpose helped distract from how empty the vehicle felt... and from that strange bitterness she’d been feeling.

After she was let off at their gates, the Goltbred’s own gatekeeper delivered some unexpected news.

"Young master. The young miss has not yet returned this morning."

Pigeon-blue eyes narrowed but she nodded quickly her thanks. She knew El would have her reasons for leaving early. For leaving without waking her. Distracted steps carried her into the kitchen, where a now familiar voice caught her attention.

"You seem troubled today. Was there something wrong with the advice I gave to practice at home?"

The cook’s friendly question made her pause in the doorway. She had been so worried about what her El might be doing this morning that she walked right in the wrong direction. The swordswoman shook her head, embarrassed that her *new* cooking teacher had noticed her mood so quickly.

’How many from my own home saw but said nothing? Or am I just being more obvious now that I am here?’

Qat had passed many busy servants and more than one proper Yecine as she vacated her room. The only words that had been spoken were when she stopped and questioned the man at their gate.

"No. Not that. I’m just... concerned about something."

The low voice speaking back to the cook wasn’t very different from normal, but the man smiled at the young miss’s husband anyway. As the one preparing the food, he was of course informed that the most ravenous member of the house was not in attendance.

"Ah. Well, learning when to care must be trickier than anything I can teach you."

She almost smiled at his cryptic wisdom - but the sound of familiar laughing drew her toward the dining hall. The raven black of her hair began lightening at the roots as she walked through the doors.

"Good morning, Mother. Father."

Yatrel and Ondua sat together with the Talcres pair at the table. Onya occupied a cushioned high chair at once corner, smashing her hand down excitedly while being spoon fed a vegetable and fruit puree. A harried attendant tried to keep the mess on her little face contained.

"Good morning, son. We were just speaking of our wayward daughter."

The Dame Goltbred lips curved into a maternal smile... but her mint eyes had a slightly harsh glint to them. Her eldest had been making a lot of troubling moves lately!

"She left us a letter about staying in her ’assigned room’ at your estate last night?"

The teasing in her voice made it clear she doubted the truthfulness of her daughter’s script. The woman was no stranger to invading the room of a younger Ondua and was regretting being so open with those tales. Qat felt heat creep up her neck as her hair continued its full transition to blonde.

She should have expected Elua to leave notice... and knowing what happened in hindsight, she was sorry to say that she would also doubt such a note. The Yecine warred between being honest with them and keeping the night they shared together private.

"That’s... not entirely accurate."

She decided it might come up when making her case about the problem she came to try and solve. The woman she was directing her answer to had eyes that softened with dim amusement - her daughter was her mother’s girl!

Meanwhile, her Ondua suddenly became very interested in his empty teacup. He was wondering whether it was reasonable to go to the kitchen and make a new batch himself... to avoid hearing any details that he would rather-

"She’s been having trouble sleeping lately. I’ve noticed she seems more tired. El has been trying to hide it."

The two parents sharpened their attention. The heiress keeping all sorts of things to herself certainly wasn’t new. However, things she studied, thought, worked on, or planned behind their backs were one thing... and a health concern was another.

"Knowing that, when she asked if she could try to sleep next to me I would never think to refuse."

"Oh? Are you sure that wasn’t just part of the trick?"

Yatrel smiled awkwardly after she asked. For some reason, she hadn’t remotely believed her own attempted explanation. Meyran diplomatically took his wife’s hand and led her away in quiet conversation. Giving the family a moment of further privacy was just good manners.

"It wasn’t a trick, mother. At least... not entirely."

Qat’s fingers unconsciously traced the edge of her sleeve as she considered how to explain without fully explaining. Her pigeon-blue eyes drifted to where Onya was making sounds at a spoonful of food approaching her face. The swordswoman’s voice rose just a bit higher than normal.

"El has been working very hard. I think that is part of it. But last night, she had a nightmare that worried me."

Ondua’s attention shifted from contemplating escape from hearing details to genuine concern. His daughter had never needed his Dream Astralism technique before - not even as a small child. She had always been an unnaturally peaceful sleeper.

"A nightmare? That’s... unusual for her."

"Yes. She was very upset..."

Qat trailed off. It was not like she could repeat the sleeptalk words or explain their meaning. She didn’t know the details herself... and El’s other secrets were hers to protect.

"I see."

Yatrel’s earlier teasing had vanished entirely and she exchanged a look with her husband. He nodded at her before he made an offer.

"Perhaps I could help. The next time she’s home, my Astralism might ease whatever’s troubling her dreams."

"That would be... thank you, father."

A weight eased from the tall girl’s shoulders. She hadn’t come to them with specific solutions in mind. Just a little information that Elua’s family should know. That they might understand what she was seeing in ways she couldn’t yet.

Her gaze drifted to the glare of morning light on a section of the window. She was sure no one but her wife could help or explain her other concern. The monotone words kept echoing in her mind along with the strange way the girl’s power retreated.

’She didn’t know how to make medicine work...?’

Qatrand wondered if she should really broach the topic so bluntly the next time they met. Her wife - the ancient cultivator who seemed to know how to make *everything* work... had felt so lost underneath the bout of terror.

Not like when she had talked about losing a romantic partner. But like a child.