Sitana sat cross-legged on the bed, her face stern, her delicate toes curling uncomfortably.
The sweet fruits on the table, which she would have devoured in the past, now held no appeal for the snow-haired girl.
In the center of the room, Malena knelt in prayer, eyes closed. The Rancemalos family did not worship any gods, but at this critical moment, Malena was willing to try anything, no matter how intangible, that might help Sitana.
Thump thump thump—
The brief, powerful knock made Malena's eyes snap open, and she quickly stood up, dusted off her skirt, and hurried to the door.
"Miss Malena," greeted a tall, gentle, conservatively dressed maid, "it's time to depart."
"Thank you for the notice... Sitana, come here!"
No longer using her usual affectionate nickname for her sister, Malena hoped Sitana would understand the gravity of the situation.
"...I know, I know."
Despite her reluctance, the young wolf, arms folded and sitting cross-legged on the bed, had no choice but to pout and hop down, walking barefoot towards the door.
She glanced at her sister, then at the maid, and muttered, looking away, "Lead the way."
"Please wait, before that, Miss Sitana needs to prepare herself," the maid said, lifting her arm draped with clothes, her voice gentle, "Please change into this outfit."
"What's the big deal, do I have to change clothes just to fight?"
Unaware of what she was supposed to do, Sitana looked puzzled at the maid, then immediately became suspicious, "Is he trying to screw me over by making me wear something really pricey, so I gotta cough up if I ruin it?"
The experienced maid did not show any reaction to Sitana's rash words, simply explaining calmly, "You are required to accompany Master to a banquet tonight, and your current attire would disgrace his reputation."
Malena was stunned, and Sitana even more so, immediately exclaiming in surprise:
"A banquet? Not a fight? What does he want to take me to a banquet for?"
"...Master needs a bodyguard." The maid sighed, "It was Miss Malena's recommendation that gave you this opportunity. Please do not squander the grace of fate, Miss Sitana."
"Bodyguard?"
Malena had never expected that Anselm would go this far, but... could Sitana handle such a role? What if something unexpected happened...
The once highly anticipated prospect had suddenly become a dilemma. The only flaw in Malena's perfect character—her feebleness—made it impossible for her to make a decision.
It was Sitana who spoke first: "Fine, I get it, toss me the clothes, we'll change ourselves."
She grabbed the clothes from the maid's hand, looked at her sister, and said, "Help me change, Lena."
"...Ah? Oh, um... okay." Coming to her senses, Malena took a deep breath, her expression apologetic as she bowed to the maid, "Sorry for the trouble, we'll be quick."
The maid nodded slightly and closed the door.
Meanwhile, Anselm, now dressed in a new silver-gray wolf cloak, had descended the stairs, leaning on his serpent-headed cane. Seeing the maid waiting at the door, he greeted her warmly:
"Meryl, how is our bodyguard doing?"
The maid Meryl curtsied modestly and replied, "She is changing, I apologize for the delay, Master."
Before Anselm could respond, a loud scream came from the room behind her:
"WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE CLOTHES! NO WAY I'M PUTTING THIS ON!"
Meryl frowned slightly, about to turn and knock on the door, but she glanced at Anselm's expression first.
Seeing the amused and cheerful look on her young master's face, she decided not to intervene and quietly stood guard at the door.
"No way, I'd rather wear bear skin than this... Lena, I won't do it!"
"I! I..."
Whatever conversation took place between the sisters inside the room, Sitana's voice, which was both sweet and tinged with a strange irritability, gradually softened.
By now, Anselm had reached the door, and he knocked, his tone cheerful, "Miss Sitana, are you ready?"
"Wait!" A panicked voice came from inside, "Just wait a moment, I... I..."
"It appears the dress is not to your liking?"
"How friggin' shameless to wear this in public, mmm mmm mmm!" Miss Sitana's anger was not something walls and doors could contain—nor could her foolishness.
"Lord Hydra! Sitana was just talking nonsense, please don't take it to heart! She's almost done changing!"
Malena's extremely anxious voice came from inside, along with a clattering sound.
Anselm leaned against the door, his tone casual, "If it doesn't suit your taste, there's no need to change."
The maid's expression changed immediately, but she managed to hold back from speaking.
Inside, there was a moment of silence, then Sitana's hesitant voice: "Really?"
"Of course, Hydra never lies. Considering Miss Sitana's vehement opposition to the dress, she is free to choose casual clothing."
In less than two minutes, Malena opened the door, looking at Anselm with trepidation, "Lord Hydra, but this will make you—"
"Make me what at the banquet? Lose my noble demeanor?" Anselm laughed, "I've already made up my mind to bring Miss Sitana to the event; why would I still concern myself with such trivial matters?"
Although Anselm's tone did not convey any sarcasm, Malena's face turned red, unable to refute, or even dare to.
"Like I'd definitely make you look bad."
Dressed in hunter's attire, Sitana squeezed past her sister, looking up directly into Anselm's eyes.
—Even though just a short while ago, she had been too afraid to meet Anselm's gaze after being slapped by Saville.
"You want me to be your bodyguard, huh? Let's get this straight, I ain't no protector, I'm all about hunting down preys. You sure that's what you want?"
"Sitana!" Malena was both anxious and angry, "You can't talk to Lord Hydra like that!"
Sitana glanced at the floor, her words already out, leaving her unable to retract them.
Anselm, however, smiled as he looked at the future hero.
Her face was petite, her figure slender, far from the tall and mature woman in Anselm's memory. The hunter's attire he had prepared for her fit her body well, the simple clothes not concealing the youthful curves unique to a girl.
And in contrast to her physical beauty, Sitana had a face so perfect that even the finest artists could find no fault in it, her well-defined features hinting at the seductive beauty she would possess even in her youth.
But she was mentally deficient.
To reiterate, Sitana Rancemalos, at this stage, to describe her as foolish and impulsive would be a compliment. Having read Sitana's life, Anselm believed that only the term "mentally deficient" could adequately describe her at this time.
Arrogant, conceited, self-important, lacking in propriety, shortsighted... most criticisms aimed at the foolish could be applied to Sitana at this moment.
But Anselm did not feel impatient or anxious; he had prepared for this for far too long, to the point where his animosity towards Sitana had almost worn away.
All that remained was a dark desire.
—The dark desire to tame this insolence, violent and savage young wolf into a fanatic and loyal hound.
Good Tame this bitch
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