Chapter 70 – Wh… WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?

Come to think of it -- not once, in all the time since she had washed up here in Seldia, had Letaria ever invited anyone into this room.

This space was, for her, a sanctuary that belonged to no one else -- a place to shed the taut armor of pride she wore at all hours, and to sink alone into the quiet of her own heart. That was exactly why the sensation of another person existing in her personal space felt so strangely fresh, carrying with it an odd, inexplicable flutter of warmth she couldn't quite name.

(... It feels rather like those days, doesn't it.)

From the depths of memory, the Adeniam ducal estate in the world she had come from. Her own room in a corner of that house -- it surfaced in her mind without warning.

Though, of course, the scale was simply incomparable. That room had been vast enough to fit several of this sterile residential-quarter room inside it, and furnished throughout with the finest things money could provide. And most of all -- in that too-large space, there had always been Chiara, standing quietly nearby with her gentle smile.

A familiar, nostalgic ache moved through her chest without warning. Whether Milea caught the faint shift in Letaria or not, she looked up from the built-in chair where she had settled herself.

"So -- how have you been lately?"

An easy, offhand question. Nothing to it.

But Letaria tilted her head inwardly. She spent nearly every day in Milea's lab, and they saw each other constantly for examinations and adjustments. For Milea to ask after her health and condition now, in this formal manner -- it was conspicuously unnatural.

Is there some other intent behind this? The question crossed her mind, but Letaria immediately arranged her expression into its usual imperious smile and sat up straight with practiced self-satisfaction.

"Why, I am in exceptional form! I did, after all, just now defeat Ethan-sama in the simulator. Even that man was no match for my splendid 'Grave Arc'!"

A pleased little hm, and Letaria puffed up her chest with proprietary pride. In the instant Milea looked at that supremely self-confident expression -- so very like her -- the composed lines of her face softened quietly into something warm.

"My, you beat Ethan? Impressive. ...Though getting carried away immediately is entirely like you."

There was exasperation in her voice, but underneath it, something that sounded unmistakably fond. Then, quite without warning, Milea rose from the chair. She crossed the room to stand directly in front of Letaria where she sat on the bed -- and in an entirely natural motion, reached out and placed her hand gently on Letaria's head.

Those slender fingers moved, slowly, through her hair.

"...Pardon?"

Letaria froze. Completely, like a statue, for one moment.

In her old world, for a commoner or a stranger to lay hands casually on the person of a ducal daughter would have warranted the harshest censure imaginable. Even here and now, proud as she was, it would not have been strange at all if she had shaken the hand off and raised her voice in sharp objection.

But Letaria said nothing. She didn't pull away, didn't twist aside with displeasure. She only sat with wide eyes, quiet and still, receiving that warm touch -- like a child cherished by a mother. Or a younger sister held dear by an elder one.

Milea drew her hand back after that one slow, gentle stroke.

A short silence fell between them. No words passed. Only the sound of the soft, melancholy artificial rain continuing to fall beyond the window filled the quiet room in a way that was, somehow, entirely comfortable.

False rain, generated by an artificial world. And yet -- the cold of it only made the faint warmth that had gathered in this room feel more vivid by contrast.

At last, Milea drew in one long breath. It carried the weight of a decision, of something steadied against. Her violet eyes found Letaria's, directly and without wavering.

"Letaria. ...Would you become my little sister?"

"..."

The air of the room froze.

Seconds passed. Letaria's cognitive processes had stopped entirely -- her thoughts spinning their gears furiously in an empty whirr as she tried to make the meaning of those words cohere.

Little sister.

What -- did this doctor just -- say?

"Wh... WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?!?"

A scream that threatened to rupture the walls erupted through the quiet room.

Letaria wore her heart openly at the best of times, her emotions large and her expressions extravagant -- but this was, without a single doubt, the largest reaction she had produced since washing up in this sea of stars. The shock sent her bouncing half off the bed; she was sitting upright, staring at Milea with eyes that could not believe what they were seeing, one finger pointing at her in disbelief.

Milea, for her part, received the full force of that extraordinary shriek and expression of stupefaction from point-blank range -- and showed not the slightest sign of being taken aback. If anything, she looked entirely as though she had anticipated exactly this response from the beginning. She merely shrugged with a patient air, pressed her fingers lightly over one ear, and smiled with something that was almost, just slightly, mischievous.