Chapter 136: Misunderstanding II
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"The Contract Market," Lily repeated.
Bat Bat’s eyes widened.
"Yes," Bat Bat said immediately. "Master left Bat Bat. Bat Bat wanted to go. The master say no. The master is cruel."
Lily turned slowly to look at Bat Bat.
"You wanted to go to the Contract Market," Lily said.
Bat Bat nodded vigorously.
"Yes," she said. "Bat Bat can buy jam."
Lily blinked.
Then she laughed once, sharp and disbelieving.
"You think the Contract Market sells jam," Lily said.
Bat Bat nodded again.
"Everything sells," Bat Bat answered with absolute faith.
Elena cleared her throat softly.
"He said he needed something," Elena said, returning the conversation to reality. "He should return before lunch, if business does not trap him."
Lily’s lips pressed together.
For a moment, she looked like she wanted to storm out of the house and drag Sekhmet back by his collar like an angry protective wife.
Then she exhaled and forced herself into a calmer posture.
"Fine," Lily said. "Then we wait."
Bat Bat’s face lit up.
"Yes," Bat Bat said. "Wait is good. No letters."
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
Bat Bat’s face fell.
Lily’s gaze flicked to the paper again, then to Elena.
"You are teaching her properly," Lily said.
Elena’s voice stayed steady.
"I am trying to keep her from becoming a public menace," Elena replied.
Bat Bat gasped, offended.
"Bat Bat is private menace," Bat Bat corrected.
Lily’s laughter returned, softer this time.
She moved toward the table and picked up a spare pen like she had done this before, like she had grown up in rooms where learning was expected and disobedience was punished.
Then she looked at Elena, eyes bright with challenge.
"You know," Lily said, "I was taught by the best tutors in the city lord mansion."
Elena’s gaze remained calm, but the air around her felt slightly sharper.
"And I raised Sekhmet Dawn," Elena replied.
Bat Bat looked between them.
Her eyes widened slowly.
"War," Bat Bat whispered.
Lily pulled a chair beside Bat Bat.
"All right," Lily said warmly. "Show me what you learned."
Bat Bat puffed up again, happy to perform.
Elena did not object.
She simply sat on the other side, posture straight, hands folded, watching Lily like Lily was a guest and also a threat.
For the next hour, the room became something strange.
A battlefield dressed as a classroom.
Lily taught with charm.
Elena taught with discipline.
Bat Bat learned like a creature trying to steal knowledge without paying the price.
When Lily praised Bat Bat, Bat Bat glowed.
When Elena corrected Bat Bat, Bat Bat sulked.
When Lily corrected Bat Bat, Bat Bat tried to charm her.
When Elena praised Bat Bat, Bat Bat looked suspicious, as if praise from Elena meant a trap.
At one point, Lily tried to teach Bat Bat basic manners.
"When you greet someone," Lily said, "you do not demand respect like a tiny tyrant."
Bat Bat tilted her head.
"But respect is important," Bat Bat argued.
"Yes," Lily agreed. "But you can earn it."
Bat Bat frowned.
"I already earn," Bat Bat said.
Elena tapped the paper.
"You earn nothing until you write your name correctly," Elena said.
Bat Bat stared at the paper, then at Elena.
Then she whispered like it was a confession of deep pain.
"My name is hard."
Lily leaned in.
"Your name is two words," Lily said.
Bat Bat nodded solemnly.
"Very hard," she repeated.
Elena did not smile.
But Lily did.
Two hours passed like that.
Bat Bat’s growth as a being did not leap in massive numbers, not today. She was too chaotic for that.
But she did learn a few things.
She learned that writing was not an enemy, just a tool.
She learned that Lily could laugh and still threaten you.
She learned that Elena could praise you and still crush you.
She learned that if she ran away, both of them would catch her.
At one point, Bat Bat tried to escape by climbing the bookshelf.
Lily grabbed her ankle.
Elena grabbed her wing.
Bat Bat dangled between them like a tiny criminal caught in two different legal systems.
Bat Bat stared down at them with wide eyes.
"Bat Bat surrender," she announced.
Lily smiled sweetly.
"Good," Lily said. "Now write."
Bat Bat whispered, defeated.
"Elena is evil."
Elena answered without missing a beat.
"Yes."
Lily laughed again.
By late morning, Bat Bat finally slumped on the chair, wings drooping, cheeks puffed, eyes half closed.
"I tired," Bat Bat muttered.
Elena’s expression softened a fraction.
"You will nap," Elena said. "Then you will eat. Then you will write again."
Bat Bat’s eyes widened in horror.
"No," she whispered.
Lily leaned over and patted Bat Bat’s head.
"Do not worry," Lily said. "If you behave, I will buy you jam later."
Bat Bat perked up slightly.
"Jam," she whispered.
Elena’s eyes narrowed at Lily.
Lily’s smile widened innocently, like she had not just bribed a tiny monster.
Then the front hall stirred again. This time, the movement felt different.
Heavier.
More direct.
Servants’ footsteps quickened. Someone whispered a name with surprise.
"Young master is back."
Lily rose immediately.
Elena stood as well, composed but alert.
Bat Bat’s head snapped up like someone had shouted the word freedom.
"Master," Bat Bat whispered.
She tried to run, but her legs wobbled, because even Bat Bat could not sprint after two hours of being forced to write letters like a civilized creature.
Elena caught her gently by the back of her collar.
"Wait," Elena said.
Bat Bat pouted.
Then the story slid forward into the current time.
Outside the Dawn House gate, midday light fell across stone and iron.
Sekhmet stood a few steps away from the entrance, posture calm, face unreadable, as if he had not just walked out of a place where human lives were priced like furniture.
Auri stood beside him, quiet and sharp, wings concealed, eyes scanning for threats the way a blade scanned for a throat.
And behind Sekhmet, the three women waited.