Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

The rigid social system virtually sealed off everyone's upward mobility. A farmer's child remained a farmer, at best becoming a skilled craftsman. A merchant's son remained a merchant, and no matter how wealthy he became, he could never compare to the nobility. Wealthy farm owners would rather spend a fortune to marry their children to a pig-like girl or boy, just for that pitiful bit of respectability.

The nobles were even more ridiculous. They were down on their luck and unable to adapt to the dramatic changes of the times. Even if they went bankrupt, they would still try to maintain their dignity. If they really couldn't hold on any longer, they would rely on their former noble titles to cheat and swindle. After all, there would always be rich people who wanted to climb up the social ladder and would pay for the title.

If nothing changes in the future, even with extraordinary abilities, the little parrot will most likely be nominally married off to the son of an official in order to curry favor with the powerful and obtain a title.

Fortunately, the clever and capable Miss Watson has arrived. Soon, she will uproot the entire old aristocracy of Tingen. Even if she dies, her glory will be undeniable.

"That's my bedroom. There's nothing much to offer you, Josephine, but I hope you won't mind..."

The apology reached my ears, and with each movement, the emerald green feathers on the little parrot's wide-brimmed cap playfully bobbed up and down, which was extremely amusing.

This amused Charlotte, making her want to stand on tiptoe and tug at the two upturned feathers, as if to tease them.

Unfortunately, the girl was hard-hearted and almost couldn't withstand it.

Pushing open the driftwood door, one enters a small, square room. The interior is simply furnished, with a European-style wooden bed next to a wardrobe, and a desk and chairs on the side. Apart from that, there are stacks of books neatly piled up, and not even a dressing mirror.

If you sniff carefully, you can smell a faint fragrance, which comes with the weight of the book.

Charlotte liked women like that.

It doesn't mean I like Miss Parrot, but rather that I like this type of woman.

After all, girls who are both beautiful inside and out are always so well-mannered. Even if they stay out all night after winning someone's heart, they can comfort themselves and find some suitable reasons. When they love deeply, even if they know this, they will still deceive themselves, humbly tugging at the corner of their clothes and begging to stay.

Yes, she's a good match, someone you could secretly pledge your life to.

Melina pulled out the chair back to make room for Charlotte before stretching and sitting down diagonally opposite her.

"Finally, we can relax a bit. Winters in Tingen are really depressing."

While the words were directed at the city beneath their feet, they were actually a veiled reference to their own family.

Charlotte could tell that this small room was far from the foyer, and the corridor in between was exceptionally long and narrow, with not a single servant in sight. Melina felt as if she had been banished to the cold palace while living here.

Was it because of his own actions that he was isolated and ignored?

So, following the topic, she posed a fitting question.

“It seems that your relationship with your father is even more strained than previously thought.”

Melina gripped the frame tightly with her slender fingers and gave a bitter, dry laugh.

"I'm sorry to make you laugh. This has been going on for a while now. Ever since I became an adult, he has become increasingly critical of my behavior. Even though he has never inquired about our situation, he criticizes my mother for keeping in touch with old friends as inappropriate, and he accuses us of being irresponsible and neglecting our duties over trivial matters."

"He blames this and that, as if all his relatives are against him. He is clearly frustrated at every turn and he is so tolerant in public, but he only knows how to vent his frustration and anger on us. It is obvious to anyone with eyes to see the suppression and coercion, but he insists on being a special case only at this time."

"He has forgotten his roots, completely severed ties with his former commoner identity, and is now arrogant and complacent..."

Her chest heaved, her breathing became slightly rapid, and even her pale pink, thin lips were pursed with a hint of blood, making her look haggard and pitiful.

At that very moment, the snowmelt that had accumulated under the dome began to slide down, drop by drop, spreading and flowing like a brush, reflecting the furrowed brows and lowered bright eyes.

So beautiful, an intellectual yet bleak beauty.

Charlotte couldn't help but praise it in her heart.

At this moment, the little parrot was more charming and captivating than the bright peacock.

Although she really wanted to watch, as a friend, she should patiently offer words of comfort to the girl at this moment.

Then, a sweet taste melted on the lips and teeth, flowed into the throat, and made the body and mind relax.

It refers to sugar.

She slowly withdrew her fingertips, leaving a faint trace of water. Above them, the chocolate from the melted sugar cubes and the dampness remained.

Charlotte didn't do anything excessive; she simply held the candy between two fingers, then gently pried open the little parrot's lips and teeth, offering it into its warm, moist interior—a perfectly reasonable comfort.

"Josephine?"

Melina instinctively bit into the candy, and only when the sweet aftertaste lingered in her mouth did she realize what was happening.

I was...

The rosy clouds were bright, my heart was pounding. Watching Watson wipe the delicate touch of his fingertips, the sensation on my lips not only didn't fade but intensified, becoming more and more fragrant and mellow. The more I thought about it, the sweeter it became, and the sweeter it became, the more I missed it. As I thought about it, even my eyes gradually became hazy, and my emotions bloomed like flowers.

How bold! But if it's someone as learned and knowledgeable as Miss Watson, who is also kind to the people, then it's hard to dislike her. Perhaps, in the Duchy of Plantagenet, this is how ladies express affection.

They easily found an excuse, and besides—

"Yes, it's toffee, I made it myself. Is it sweet?"

Without denying it, her slender eyes were slightly upturned, her shimmering gaze focused and tense, as if she were expecting and hoping for her friend's approval.

That's obviously a lie. You can buy the same toffee by turning left and walking a few steps outside, but who would know that?

Making something by hand represents one's heartfelt intentions, and one's imagination is the catalyst for attraction. As long as one speaks it out, this bird, that sparrow, will always believe it, will always think more, will think more about whether they are special, will think more about this, will think more about that. In the midst of reflection, one is moved, one falls in love, a love that a young girl will not take responsibility for.

Of course, there was a tiny bit of sincerity in her heart; she did want to thank Melina after all, the radiant sun talisman had attracted demonic insects to her, allowing her to transcend the extraordinary.

"Very sweet."

"So, are you feeling a little better?"

With a soft, inquiring sound uttered from her thin lips, Charlotte gently cupped the little parrot's pretty face, letting her fingertips knead its soft flesh, shaping Melina's already somewhat chubby cheeks into various comical forms.

However, this time, Miss Watson misjudged the situation, forgetting that the little parrot was not a bird that could be easily manipulated.

She can cry and peck.

"Um......"

Although her mood was no longer low, perhaps because she had been manipulated by one side for too long, or perhaps because of her playful nature, Melina believed it was just a joke, and even harbored a hint of resentment.

If you pinch me, I'll pinch you back.

Looking at Watson's equally beautiful, or even more beautiful, doll-like features, she boldly raised her hand and gently pinched the soft flesh of the girl's cheek.

It's soft and delicate, with an excellent feel.

More importantly, seeing Watson's unexpected, adorable, and slightly bewildered expression, the little parrot felt an extraordinary sense of satisfaction.

That's great, I don't want to let go.

"Eh?"

No, you have to stare at them.

Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise, and she instinctively pushed Melina away.

Actually, in terms of height, this puppet is a little shorter than both the little peacock and the little parrot, so she can hardly be considered a beauty.

"Well, actually, I came to see you, Melina, about something."

Realizing her loss of composure, the girl coughed twice, having lost the initiative for the first time.

"Oh......"

The little parrot released her hand as promised, but the sensation of her skin being kneaded lingered on her fingertips, making her savor the memory.

The more you reminisce, the more excited you become, and the more you want to try it again. This is desire, and this is the driving force that inspires people to keep moving forward.

Unexpectedly, the reliable Miss Watson would reveal such an adorable and endearing side.

The conversation subsided, and our gaze returned to the table.

"Melina, what do you think of the India Party? Or rather, what do you think of what happened in the port area last night?"

After a moment of silence, when they spoke again, the atmosphere between them gradually returned to the initial harmony and understanding.

"Is Josephine referring to the death of Brett Canning?"

Melina gently pressed her finger against her chin, squeezing out a shallow indentation from the soft flesh there, carefully choosing her words.

"Actually, I've spoken with the dockworkers about this party. They used to be a self-elected union in the port area, advocating for their rights and demanding equal and fair treatment, but—"

With its long, delicate eyebrows furrowing slightly and a stern voice rising from its lips, the little parrot did not suppress its emotions.

"Their recent actions have nothing but betrayal of the workers' interests. This is the act of traitors, and it deserves to be punished. I do not believe that Bright was completely unaware. Although it is immoral, I must stand in support of the gentleman who fired the bullet. He did the right thing. Silence is useless; only bloodshed can awaken the masses."

It is a genuine expression of indignation and sorrow.

He thought to himself, "Good. Since Melina's reaction is as I expected, it's time to be honest with her and extend an invitation."

She pursed her lips, raised her voice, and spoke in a low, then deep tone, her face flushed. She spoke with a light yet firm voice:

"Your praise puts me to shame. If I were the leader of yesterday's incident, if, like you and me before, I had pointed out the way, shown the way to those who were lost and suffering, then, Melina—"

As she spoke, Charlotte spread her five fingers and placed them in front of the little parrot, lowering her gaze to reveal her irresistible silver eyes.

Would you be willing to lend me a helping hand?

No longer need to be a nightingale crying blood in a gilded cage, just come to my side and be a lively parrot on a branch, like...

"as always."

The trust placed in someone, the fleeting glance—for a lost soul pursuing ideals, this is hardly an invitation, but rather a naked temptation.

Chapter Sixty-Five: Death and Sweetness (5.8k)

As these words echoed in her ears, Melina stared blankly at Charlotte, like a little parrot that had fallen from a branch and was now belly up.

Josephine?

"I'm here."

A chorus of incredulous whispers met a playful and charming call, accompanied by a fragrant breath brushing past the ear.

The hot air exhaled from her lips felt like scalding flames, landing on Melina's neck and easily reddening her skin, making her thoughts somewhat unclear.

Not stopping there, as if concerned about the former's incomprehension, Charlotte slowly took the little parrot's delicate hand and placed it on her fair cheek, letting the touch spread and the warmth pass through.

"Now you can feel my presence, right?"

With the confirmation of distance and the touch of hands, Melina truly felt Watson's companionship, and a strange feeling immediately welled up inside her.

Although the words failed to express the meaning, this gesture was more intimate and direct than any rhetoric.

The pleasant scent wafted into my nostrils from her silver-gray hair, and her fair, rosy face was so close, it felt as if I could just lean in and press that pudding-soft cheek onto my lips, possess it, and savor it with a kiss.

Unable to let go or look away, the little parrot's breathing became somewhat rapid.

But how could I have such thoughts? Josephine explained the ideas of the Enlightenment to me, freeing me from the shackles of old acquaintances. She was the sun that broke through the clouds, the light that shone into my palm.

She is intelligent, lively, and unconventional. She is gentle, kind, and does not look down on others. How can there be such a perfect person in the world? It is as if the spotlight shines on her from beginning to end, making people yearn for her yet feel that she is out of reach.

Aspiration is the furthest distance.

So, when the sun lowers its body, casting its warm light, it confesses everything to itself, clarifies its identity, and invites the hazy girl to walk alongside it.

As a prisoner in the cave, how could Melina refuse? How could she possibly refuse?

Pursuing ideals and yearning for equality, the transcendence of class could not choke the parrot's wings. She willingly basked in the sunlight, even if she crashed to her death on that ancient tree where her feathers rested, finding peace and contentment.

Perhaps some might say that she went against the social class she belonged to, but there has never been such a thing as a middle class. That is just a deceptive term used by the bourgeoisie to deliberately spread propaganda and divide the working masses.

So Melina extended her fingertips and carefully reached into Charlotte's palm.

When those fair fingers touched Charlotte's soft skin, she instinctively recoiled, but the girl did not allow her to back down. Instead, their palms met, their fingers intertwined, and a warmth slowly seeped into her heart.

It is an embrace.

It wasn't a strong embrace, just a light hug, as if entrusting the softest parts of their hearts to each other.

"Thank you for your trust, Melina."

An opportunity that cannot be refused arises from the soft voice on the lips, as light as a feather, yet ticklish, constantly tantalizing the heart.

It is unconditional trust, and also a silent plea.

"I will repay you in the future."

The whispers in her ear sounded like a tender whisper, and an unsuspecting person might have thought Charlotte was saying something that would make one blush and their heart race.

The little parrot, whose heart had been wavering, was instantly disarmed by the gentle breeze and the caress of the autumn waves. It lowered its head and let itself slump into the hollow of its shoulder, leaving more of Josephine's scent on itself.

Seeing the unspoken feelings between us, the gentle smile on our thin lips, the ripples in our clear, silvery eyes, and the intertwining strands of hair, she felt an indescribable mix of emotions, a knot of melancholy, and before she knew it, she had convinced herself.

If Watson were a hero in a biographical epic, then I would surely be captivated by her charm, seeing her as a naive and clumsy girl in the story.

Pfft, what a cliché, unoriginal text.

However, Melina doesn't dislike such stories, even though she has written countless sentences and received various criticisms and praises. Popular novels are, after all, just imagined stories.

Which girl wouldn't fantasize that on a shameful stage, on a chaotic battlefield, she falls to the ground, only to have a destined knight, braving a hail of swords and arrows, defying condemnation, pull her out of her predicament, and release her from her gilded cage, even if she is just a young girl, a thin young girl.