The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 200 - A Cute Sound, A Serious Mom, & The Volume Of Love (Wait…)

Chapter 200: Chapter 200 - A Cute Sound, A Serious Mom, & The Volume Of Love (Wait...)

A certain Yecine momentarily reminisced about the morning she was pulled aside to ’chat’ by the reddish-blonde woman. Taken to Yatrel’s study and politely but forcefully told to sit in a chair... to say that she hadn’t felt a little nervous at the time - with the serious look on Dame Goltbred - would not be the truth.

The brunette holding onto her in the night now immediately had a ’temper’ rising before she could completely explain the whole matter. Qat warningly pinched at the small girl’s waist.

"Hyaa!"

Her pigeon-blue eyes flew wide at the loud, emotion-filled sound. The swordswoman had not expected such a reaction at all! Even though she was sure they had a certain amount of privacy thanks to Elua, she couldn’t help but look up to see if anyone would approach.

The one responsible for that sudden noise also looked up and dared to seem *aggrieved*. Of course, there were innumerable other familiar emotions mixed in.

"W-w-why would you just do that?!"

It took a while to not be dumbfounded, but ultimately realized that the girl was much more ’amused’ than offended. Though... there definitely still was a layer of ’vexation’ that remained. The problem was she couldn’t tell if it was from what she did, or still from mentioning a complaint from her mother!

"...I didn’t think you..."

When her beloved mumbled like this, the rascal felt she could watch her for a whole dozen minutes past one second without untangling the problem for her~

"It was both our faults. I shouldn’t have been forcefully using physical energy to make my skin more sensitive while playing with your face."

Once again the tall girl was struck silent. It only made sense that such a thing could be done, but would a cultivator actually spend enough time to master it without harming themselves?

Qat felt only that someone who had lived for many centuries would bother... and she would be right to guess that her El hadn’t learned it until that age in her last life. Though she would be wrong to state that there wasn’t a sense of ’use’ for any younger and skilled cultivator.

"...or at least I should have stopped at the same time. That was a little too stimulating."

Elua mumbled and ’blushed’ while petting her own brown hair. She tried to hang it over her face and vainly cover the sight.

’That technique is banned! Banned, you hear? At least until... until my Prime...’

She vowed to herself in her heart, ashamed to even place such a promise anywhere next to the fragment of Qat. Without knowing this decision, the Yecine could still feel the wife that was being so adorably shy in front of her spiritually pummeling away at her ’hunger’.

The blonde cleared her throat and grabbed for the girl’s wrist.

"Any...way. About what your mother said to me."

She started to pull the heiress away from the scene of the vandalism. Clearly it would be better to tell the tale on the move... and hopefully get both of their minds off of this new ’distress’.

<---

The study door closed with a subtle click. Yatrel settled into her chair behind the dark wooden desk while maintaining eye contact. She ’made’ Qatrand sit with a hand gesture and a look in the woman’s mint eyes that held little of their usual warmth.

"I need to discuss something with you about my daughter."

Qatrand’s back straightened instinctively. Her pigeon-blue eyes caught the slight tremor in the older woman’s fingers as they traced the edge of a letter. The iridescent wax seal made it clear who it was from, but with only a glance she would have recognized it as being in Elua’s elegant hand.

"Has something happened?"

"Not yet."

The reddish-blonde’s gaze flickered to a frame holding a portrait of a young Elua clutching a book nearly half her size. When she looked back, some of the coldness had thawed from her expression.

"You’ve been good for her. Better than I initially hoped, if I’m honest. Particularly the way you handle her... nature."

Qat’s fingers tightened slightly on the armrests of her chair. She hadn’t expected praise to precede whatever prompted this conversation. In fact, it had seemed like bad news.

"But I know what it’s like to love someone so completely that you’d tear down mountains for them. To watch them day after day and notice every little thing they do for your sake."

The woman stood and moved to look out the window. Servants could be seen attending the outer gardens that Elua had helped redesign here and there over the years. Little comments and requests that made it into something hardly recognizable from when she had been born.

"My daughter thinks she’s clever... and she is. Creating this image of herself that she believes people want to see. And we... *you* let her."

Yatrel honestly had no belief that she could change her daughter’s mind that easily.

"Do you know what she wrote here?"

The woman’s tone softened as she returned to her seat. With a slow touch she slid the unfolded paper forward. Qat recognized the script detailing work at the competition grounds. She had received one like it herself.

"She mentions you by name three times in what should be a fairly formal report about something else."

A hint of fondness crept into Yatrel’s voice despite her still serious expression.

"Just like you’ve been visiting Onya every day you aren’t busy and talking to my youngest about the eldest. Making sure she doesn’t miss her sister too much. Both of you are always thinking of each other."

The swordswoman felt her cheeks warm at being caught. She hadn’t realized her frequent visits were so transparent - or that her chatting had been overheard and reported.

"What began as a family arrangement changed into a lucky coincidence. I’ve watched you grow into someone worthy of her devotion. When I’m not careful, sometimes I forget you’re not truly my own..."

Yatrel’s fingers drummed once on the desk before she leaned forward. All the warmth had fled her voice and eyes... though it wasn’t like her El’s monotone at all. There was still emotion within it - hard edged as it was.

"Which is exactly why I need to say this. You’re both so careful with each other - you accept her plots to maintain this perfect image. I can’t complain about that choice. But I know my daughter. The real her that you’ve somehow managed to reach."

She paused to gather her thoughts before continuing and Qat couldn’t help but feel an adamant refusal in her heart. The woman before her cared for her daughter and might know more than most, but the Yecine was certain that no one knew the real Elua er Goltbred.

’Though my hand is currently the closest to clutching it. To reaching her fully.’

"When she thinks she’s protecting someone she loves, she’ll handle everything herself. My daughter will create these elaborate plans that deal with serious matters. And... you’ve learned to let her without forcing your involvement, haven’t you?"

The swordswoman’s hand unconsciously moved while looking down at the desk. She gripped at the hilt of her sheathed blade resting against the side of the chair. The gesture of self-comfort didn’t go unnoticed.

"That sword. She gave it to you, didn’t she? She never did tell us about what lengths she went to get it for you. The way you treasure it tells me everything about how deeply you value her."

Yatrel’s expression softened again.

"But sometimes... sometimes love needs to be a little selfish. To demand rather than accept. I learned that in my time with Ondua. Lines have to be drawn."

The mint eyes she had given her first child held a knowing light as her gaze drifted to her own favorite gift, twisting the brown crystal ring once on her finger. It was hard to maintain the hard face against this heir.

After all, she knew the elders the boy dealt with likely gave such stern looks all the time.

"The Yecine put such weight on duty and family obligation. I know because I’ve watched them try to shape you with it for years. Before that, I watched it work on your father. And my Elua, she sees it too."

Knuckles loudly rapped on the wood furniture.

"That’s why she’ll keep crafting these plans. For you. Finding ways to make everything work without forcing you to choose between drowning in her or drowning in them."

Qat felt her throat tighten at the amazing accuracy of those words. She knew that the girl’s parents loved their daughter, but this... it made her understand something slightly differently. That even without knowing ’everything’, the Dame Goltbred had been paying enough attention to grow affection for the *person* her small wife was.

An open palm reached across the desk. The woman watched Qatrand hesitate to take her hand - eventually lifting their own so that it was not quite touching, but close. Yatrel made a complicated face as she lightly gripped the calloused hand.

’Poor child. You are so willing to indulge the one you love, but so timid around me still.’

"What worries me isn’t that you’ll let duty pull you away permanently. It’s that you’ll both keep dancing around each other’s feelings until something breaks."

The held hand was gripped just a little tighter, implying the growing pressure.

"That she won’t tell you when she needs to be chosen over your family openly - and that you won’t tell her when you need her to stop hiding her actions for your sake."

The reddish-blonde dropped the hold and retreated. Her firm voice was filled with all her personal experience. The love story she wrote together with Ondua had never been simple, even if it had a lot of happy moments.

"Sometimes love needs to be *loud*, my dear. Enough to make the need to compromise clear. Especially with someone like us. Like me or my daughter."