Chapter 56: Coward
That hand hovered in midair.
Less than two centiters away from Lilia.
But to Lilia, who had just opened her eyes, that hand was ten thousand tis more terrifying than the gaping, blood-soaked maw of a Cerberus from hell.
The Demon Queen’s hand was aid at her neck… or her skull?
Was she about to strike?
Because she had actually committed the grave offense of treating the noble Queen as a Human Body Pillow and slept with her the entire night?
Before her brain could process these complicated thoughts, her survival instinct had already taken over her body.
“Thud!”
Lilia rolled off the bed like a lazy donkey, scrambling and tumbling onto the floor.
Her knees slamd hard against the ground.
It hurt.
But she didn’t care.
She didn’t even dare to lift her head—her forehead pressed directly against the cold floor.
“Master, spare !”
Her words fired out like a machine gun.
“I was just too tired last night! I only wanted to warm Your Majesty’s feet at first, but sohow I… I…”
Cold sweat poured down Lilia’s back.
“…passed out.”
Deathly silence.
Lilia lay prone on the ground, her body trembling uncontrollably.
That hand…
That hand just now definitely wanted to strangle her, right?
It had to be!
If she had woken up even half a second later, those beautiful nails would have probably already pierced into her carotid artery.
That was close.
She had nearly beco the first transmigrator in history to be executed for oversleeping.
There was no movent from the bed.
Lilia carefully lifted her eyelids just a sliver, her gaze trailing along the floor.
The tassels hanging from the bedside remained still.
Those beautifully shaped legs that had been pinned beneath her just monts ago also did not move.
Hera sat on the bed, frozen in that sa outstretched position.
That hand, which had originally intended to touch Lilia’s cheek, now awkwardly hovered in midair, the fingertips slightly curled.
Empty.
There was no warmth, no soft skin.
Only air.
In Hera’s golden eyes, which had just regained clarity, an extrely complicated emotion flickered.
Surprise.
Disappointnt.
And a trace of… hurt.
She had dodged it.
The one who had held her tightly in that nightmare last night, whispering “I won’t leave” into her ear—was that nothing more than a fleeting illusion?
Reality was that she was a tyrant feared by all.
And Lilia was rely a lowly human maid, a “pet” forced to please her just to survive.
With just a slight lift of her hand, this little one would be scared out of her wits.
Even if she only wanted to… pat her head.
Hera’s lips pressed into a straight line.
She slowly withdrew her hand.
The movent was stiff, even sowhat hurried.
That hand fell back to her side, gripping the bedsheet tightly.
The silk wrinkled under her grasp.
“Get up.”
Her voice was cold.
Even colder than the morning breeze outside the window.
Flat and emotionless, as if the person who had just tried to reach out wasn’t her at all.
Lilia trembled on the ground.
She didn’t dare move.
“Master…”
“I don’t want to say it a second ti.”
Hera’s voice rose slightly, carrying her usual pressure.
Lilia sprang up as if electrocuted.
She lowered her head, hands folded in front of her, her gaze locked onto her toes, not daring to breathe loudly.
Seeing her like a quail, Hera felt an inexplicable irritation rise in her chest.
But the urge to explain was forcibly swallowed back down.
Because she was the Queen.
“You stayed lying there so long. Do you like sticking to the floor that much?”
Hera suddenly spoke.
Lilia froze, not understanding. “Ah?”
Hera turned her head away, no longer looking at her, casually brushing her long hair by her ear to hide the awkwardness of her hand just now.
“Or do you think my bed isn’t as comfortable as that broken piece of stone?”
“The bed… the bed is very comfortable! Extrely comfortable!”
Lilia answered stiffly, her survival instinct maxed out.
“Lilia only felt that her status is too low, unworthy of defiling Your Majesty’s bed. When I woke and saw that I had overstepped, I panicked, and that’s why… why I fell off.”
Hera listened to the flawless flattery, yet the suffocating feeling in her chest not only didn’t ease—it grew heavier.
That intimacy from last night, that closeness where even their heartbeats seed to resonate, felt as though it had never existed.
Hera closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the last trace of emotion had been swallowed by a bottomless indifference.
“Since you know your status is low.”
She lifted the blanket and stepped barefoot onto the floor, her black nightgown slipping down with her movent, revealing a large expanse of fair, pale skin.
“Then co here and assist in dressing.”
“Yes!”
Lilia felt as if she had been granted amnesty.
As long as work began, it ant her life was temporarily safe.
She hurried over, quick and efficient.
Hera spread her arms, allowing her to fuss with her clothes.
Yet her gaze occasionally fell on Lilia as she busied herself.
This girl hadn’t changed clothes yet.
Her maid outfit was wrinkled, even the collar slightly crooked—that was the “evidence” left from being held all night.
And those dark circles.
“Last night…”
She suddenly spoke.
Lilia’s hands, which were fastening the belt, trembled, nearly snapping the gem-studded strap.
“Yes!”
Lilia imdiately stood straight.
Here it cos!
The delayed reckoning had finally arrived!
Hera looked down at her panicked expression, and the words at the tip of her tongue shifted direction.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Ah?”
Lilia was stunned.
That was more like it.
That was what a normal servant should look like.
Genuine emotion was always better than forced obedience.
“That’s enough.”
Hera released her hands and turned toward the massive mirror.
“Fix yourself up.”
She looked at Lilia in the mirror, at that wrinkled maid outfit that looked like pickled vegetables, and frowned in disgust.
“This outfit is ugly.”
Lilia glanced down at herself, on the verge of tears.
Whose fault is that?
Wasn’t it because you refused to let go of last night? I even wanted to change into sleepwear, and you wouldn’t allow it!
“Yes, Lilia will go change right away.”
“Wait.”
Hera stopped the Lilia who was about to slip away.
“Co here.”
Lilia paused, then walked back resignedly.
Hera picked up a comb from the dressing table.
“Turn around.”
Though confused, Lilia obediently turned her back to Hera.
The next second—
A faint sensation touched her scalp.
Hera… was combing her hair?
Lilia froze completely.
What was going on?
Did the sun rise from the west today?
If word got out, those Demon Generals outside would probably have their eyeballs popping out in shock.
Hera said nothing.
Her movents were unfamiliar, even sowhat clumsy.
The comb passed through Lilia’s silver-white hair, occasionally tugging at a few tangled strands.
“Hiss…”
Lilia sucked in a breath from the pain.
“Endure it.”
Hera spoke coldly, but her movents clearly beca gentler.
Lilia didn’t dare make a sound, only staring at their reflection in the mirror.
In the mirror, the Queen who usually stood high above all others was lowering her head, focusing intently on “battling” her hair.
Those golden eyes, usually filled with killing intent, actually seed… gentle?
An illusion.
It had to be an illusion.
She must not have slept well last night and was seeing things.
“Done.”
Hera set down the comb, looking at the now smooth and tidy hair in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction.
“Next ti you dare appear before with a bird’s nest on your head, I’ll shave it all off.”
Lilia touched her hair, lingering fear in her heart.
“Thank you, Master.”
“Go.”
Hera waved her hand as if dismissing a fly.
“Change your clothes and co back to see .”
Lilia turned and retreated.
Watching Lilia close the door to the Bedchamber, the cold mask on Hera’s face finally cracked slightly.
She lowered her head and looked at her palm.
It seed to still carry the faint, cool, silky touch of those silver strands.
And the warmth of that neck she had accidentally brushed just now.
Hera remained silent for a long ti.
Then she picked up the comb she had used on Lilia and gently placed it into a drawer.
Locked it.
“Coward.”
In the empty Bedchamber, a soft whisper echoed.
It was unclear whether she was referring to Lilia, who had fled in panic, or to herself—who needed an excuse just to reach out.
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