Chapter 13: Misunderstanding

Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Misunderstanding

Selena pressed her fingers against her temples, massaging the headache that was already forming a permanent residence there. A few minutes ago, when the words "doubt her" had left Selena’s lips, Azura had stopped kneeling so dramatically that it looked like she’d been yanked up by an invisible puppeteer.

And then—horror of horrors—she started washing the dishes.

Not just washing them. DOMINATING them.

She scrubbed, rinsed, and stacked like a woman possessed by the ghost of a professional housekeeper. Which was impossible, because the Azura everyone knew would sooner eat raw garbage than touch dishwater.

But this Azura wasn’t the spoiled, pampered brat who had never lifted a finger in her life.

This Azura was Chinese Azura. The Azura who had been washing dishes since kindergarten because her teachers believed in building character through labor. The Azura who could clean a wok in thirty seconds flat and make it shine like a mirror.

Selena watched, jaw slightly slack, as Azura finished the last dish, dried her hands with the efficiency of a sous chef, and spun around with a radiant smile that made Selena’s survival instincts scream.

"NOW!" Azura declared, grabbing the massive bag she had thrown on the floor earlier. "For my SECOND proof of sincerity, dear sister! Feast your eyes upon this!"

She shoved the bag into Selena’s arms with the force of someone delivering a sacred artifact.

"These are my FAVORITE new clothes! These are my FAVORITE delicious snacks! I am stingy! I am calculating! I have never shared a single crumb with anyone in my entire life! So for me to give THIS to you—it’s practically a love confession! Hurry, open it! APPRECIATE MY LOVE!"

Selena stared at the bag. Then at Azura’s beaming face. Then back at the bag.

A bad feeling crawled up her spine like a spider with a grudge.

Slowly, hesitantly, she opened it.

Her expression did not brighten.

It DARKENED. Like a cloudy sky that had just realized it forgot to rain.

She reached inside and pulled out a single peanut cookie.

"You said you were sincere," Selena said, her voice flat. Dead. Hollow. The voice of someone who had seen too much. "You know I’m allergic to peanuts. And yet you gave me this."

Azura’s soul left her body.

No. NO. She wanted to grab the author of this cursed novel by the throat and scream directly into their face.

Can you—CAN YOU JUST—WHY DOES EVERY FEMALE LEAD IN EXISTENCE HAVE TO HAVE A TRAGIC BACKSTORY THAT INCLUDES A RANDOM ALLERGY?! IS IT A REQUIREMENT?! DID SOME WRITING GOD DECREE THAT ALL PROTAGONISTS MUST SUFFER FROM BOTH EMOTIONAL TRAUMA AND SUDDENLY ANaphylactic SHOCK?!

But she couldn’t say that. Instead, she let out a nervous laugh, sweat dripping down her forehead.

"W-Well, you see, that’s—that’s a very reasonable misunderstanding—"

"A misunderstanding?" Selena’s eye twitched. "A MISUNDERSTANDING?"

Azura’s brain went into emergency damage control mode. She snatched the bag back, rummaging through it with the desperation of a raccoon who had just been caught stealing from a garbage can.

"Yes! Misunderstanding! Complete and utter misunderstanding! You see, the nut-containing snacks—they’re not FOR you! They’re for you to GIVE to the servants! Or the guards! BRIBE THEM! Win their loyalty! Build your own personal army of snack-fueled minions!"

She grabbed the four offending packages, slapped them onto the table, and began furiously tying tissues around them like she was gift-wrapping evidence at a crime scene.

"Look! Look how pretty! People will see these and think, ’Oh, what a generous and kind young lady Selena is! I shall now devote my life to her service!’ It’s basic social manipulation 101, sister!"

Selena stared at the tissue-wrapped snacks. Then at Azura. Then back at the snacks.

"...."

The silence was deafening. Azura could hear her own heartbeat and, somewhere in the distance, the sound of her dignity packing its bags and leaving forever.

"Ahem!" Azura cleared her throat loudly, pointing at the bag like a game show host revealing the grand prize. "FORGET THE NUTS! The MAIN EVENT is the clothes! You probably haven’t had new clothes in YEARS, have you? Well, feast your eyes! These are fresh! Trendy! Tailored specifically for your body type... probably... hopefully!"

Selena’s hand hovered over the bag. Her curiosity, that cursed trait, warred with her survival instincts.

Curiosity won.

She reached in.

She pulled out a dress.

It was short. Very short. Expensive-looking, sure, but also the kind of dress that would make a nun faint and a priest question his vows.

Then came the bikini-style shorts.

Then the long-sleeved shirt with strategically placed cutouts that seemed designed to display everything except the sleeves.

Selena’s face cycled through colors like a mood ring having a seizure. Red. White. Purple. A concerning shade of green.

Her hands trembled.

"You..." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper. "You’re trying to SET ME UP, aren’t you? You want me to wear this—this rag—so men will approach me! Harass me! And you’ll be there, snapping photos, spreading them around the pack so everyone thinks I’m a SLUT!"

Azura’s soul left her body for the second time that day.

Wait, wait, wait—she’s SMART?! Since when?! Most female leads in these novels would happily drink poison if the villainess handed it to them with a smile! Why is THIS one actually using her BRAIN?!

But then Selena’s next words hit her like a freight train.

"A MONTH AGO! You did the SAME THING! You made me wear a mini dress! LIED to me! YOU made me enter a room with a perverted man! The BETA of another pack! He tried to—IF I HADN’T ESCAPED—"

Oh.

Oh no.

So it wasn’t that Selena was unusually smart.

It was that Selena had already been through this exact trap. And barely escaped.

Which meant...

Azura’s mind, ever the multitasker, split into two warring thoughts:

1. Good! At least Selena isn’t a brainless damsel who falls for the same trick twice! She has WARINESS! She has SURVIVAL INSTINCTS! I RESPECT THAT!

2. BAD! Because if the female lead is SMART, then when she eventually gets her revenge on the villainess... I’M GOING TO GET DESTROYED! THE SMARTER THE PREY, THE BRUTER THE PAYBACK! I’M DOOMED! I’M SO, SO DOOMED!

Before she could formulate a response, Selena hurled the bag back at her.

It hit Azura square in the face.

"OUCH—!"

Selena was already gone. Running. Sobbing. Disappearing out of the kitchen like a wounded deer fleeing from a hunter who had just accidentally shot herself in the foot.

Azura stood there, alone, a bag on her head, clothes and snacks scattered across the floor, and the crushing realization that she had just made everything worse.

"...I really miss my world," she whispered to the empty kitchen. "At least there, the only thing trying to kill me was my alarm clock or my mom’s frozen dumpling..."