Late that night, the light in the little head maid's room was still burning.
Xiao Ling circled Xiao Lan, walking around her again and again.
She looked like a stonemason admiring a newly finished sculpture, her gaze holding a little curiosity and a little wonder before finally giving way to wholehearted satisfaction.
Xiao Lan stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her hands helplessly twisting the hem of her nightdress.
Under her younger sister's scrutiny, her cheeks flushed so deeply they almost looked ready to bleed.
"Sister." Xiao Ling stopped, her expression serious.
"I have to admit, you did far better than I expected."
She extended a finger and lightly touched the red swelling on Xiao Lan's forehead, still clearly visible despite the ointment covering it.
"In any knightly romance, this would count as the most dreamlike beginning."
The assessment left Xiao Lan even more mortified, and she lowered her head further.
Her sister, however, gave her a reassuring look.
She knew her sister's temperament very well: timid, weak-willed, and unable to make use of her own advantages.
Yet everything that had happened tonight had stumbled into the best possible outcome.
An inadvertent mistake;
a perfectly timed moment of physical contact;
an inexperienced yet utterly sincere kiss.
Xiao Ling believed Lord Veylin could not possibly resist taking a bite of such a delicious cake, delivered willingly to his doorstep with a touch of absentminded innocence.
The fact that he had personally applied ointment to her sister was the best proof.
At that thought, the last trace of worry in Xiao Ling's heart vanished.
She could follow Miss Lilia to the Duchy's Royal Capital without concern now.
Her sister's future was secured under a very sturdy lock.
On the day he returned to his territory, the wearying journey did