Chapter 671: Heavenly Demon (8)
I watched Master walk away from Luna’s containnt chamber, noting the careful way he carried the drawing she’d given him. Even from behind, I could see the change in his posture—the protective set of his shoulders, the gentleness in his movents that hadn’t been there a week ago.
‘He’s falling in love with her,’ I realized, and the thought made my chest warm in ways I wasn’t prepared for.
“Bishop Cordelia,” Dr. Vance approached with his ever-present tablet, “I was hoping to discuss the subject’s recent behavioral modifications with you. Your psychological evaluation reports have been… interesting.”
If only you knew how carefully crafted those reports were. “Of course, Doctor. What specific aspects would you like to discuss?”
“The emotional developnt patterns. We’ve never seen such rapid socialization in any previous iteration. Your assessnt thodology appears to be yielding exceptional results.”
I maintained my professional expression while internally cringing at his clinical language. ‘Previous iteration. As if Luna’s predecessors weren’t children who died in agony.’
“The subject responds well to structured interaction,” I said carefully. “Consistent positive reinforcent appears to accelerate cognitive and emotional developnt.”
Consistent positive reinforcent. Such cold words for what was actually love, kindness, and basic human decency.
“Fascinating. And the attachnt behaviors toward Cardinal Matthias?”
“Natural developnt given the frequency and quality of their interactions,” I replied. “The subject has ford a positive association with Cardinal Matthias due to his patient evaluation approach.”
“Would you recomnd expanding this approach? Perhaps having you conduct similar attachnt-building sessions?”
Yes, my heart said imdiately. ‘Yes, let spend ti with her too. Let be part of whatever family Master is building.’
“That could provide valuable comparative data,” I said aloud. “I’d be willing to conduct supplentary behavioral assessnts.”
Dr. Vance nodded approvingly. “Excellent. I’ll have your sessions scheduled imdiately. The subject seems to benefit from… humanized interaction protocols.”
Humanized interaction protocols. He ant treating Luna like a person instead of a weapon, though he’d never phrase it that way.
An hour later, I found myself standing outside Luna’s chamber for my first solo visit. Through the observation window, I could see her sitting at her small table, carefully working on another drawing with the colored pencils Master Arthur had brought her.
I activated the door controls and stepped inside. “Hello, Luna.”
She looked up from her artwork, and I saw recognition flash in her dark eyes. “You’re Bishop Cordelia. You’re always with Arthur when he visits.”
Arthur. Not Cardinal Matthias. She felt safe enough to use his real na even with present.
“That’s right. I was hoping to spend so ti with you today, if that’s alright.”
Luna tilted her head, studying with the direct gaze of a child unused to deception. “Are you going to ask questions like the doctors do? About how I feel and what I think?”
The doctors. More people who saw her as a subject to be analyzed rather than a child to be cared for.
“No questions like that,” I assured her, moving to sit in the chair Master Arthur usually occupied. “I was actually hoping you might show your drawings.”
Her face lit up imdiately. “Really? You want to see them?”
“Very much.”
For the next few minutes, Luna showed her artwork with the enthusiasm of any child sharing sothing they’d created. Stick figure gardens, wobbly animals, houses that defied architectural physics but radiated warmth and imagination.
“This one is my favorite,” she said, pointing to a drawing of what appeared to be three stick figures standing together. “It’s Arthur, and , and you.”
My breath caught. “?”
“You’re always taking care of Arthur, and Arthur takes care of , so that makes us…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Like a family, right?”
Like a family. The casual way she said it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, made my heart skip a beat.
“Do you know what families are like, Luna?” I asked gently.
“Not really,” she admitted. “But Arthur tells stories sotis. About people who live together and take care of each other and love each other even when they make mistakes.”
‘Master has been telling her about families. Of course he has—he’s been preparing her for the life she deserves to have.’
“That’s exactly right,” I said. “Families are people who choose to love each other.”
“Choose?” Luna’s eyes widened. “You an it’s not sothing that just happens? People decide to be family?”
“Sotis. The very best families are the ones where people choose each other.”
Luna looked down at her drawing, then back up at . “Do you think… do you think Arthur chose ? Like family?”
Oh, sweetheart. The hope in her voice was almost too much to bear.
“I think Arthur cares about you very much,” I said carefully. “And yes, I think he’s chosen you as soone special to him.”
“What about you?” The question was so quiet I almost missed it. “Do you care about too?”
The words hit like a physical blow. This little girl—this brave, artistic, loving child—was asking if I cared about her. And the answer that rose in my throat surprised with its intensity.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, Luna. I care about you very much.”
The smile that spread across her face was like sunrise after a long night. “Really? So we’re all… we all care about each other? You and Arthur and ?”
‘Master and my daughter.’ The thought appeared in my mind unbidden, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
‘What am I thinking? Our daughter? When had I started thinking of Luna that way?’The idea of her calling sothing like… like Mama Reika made my face burn with embarrassnt at my own presumption.
“Luna,” I said, trying to regain my composure, “what do you know about mothers?”
“Mothers?” She looked confused. “Arthur ntioned them sotis. They’re like fathers, but different? Ladies who take care of children?”
‘She doesn’t even know what a mother is.’ The casual cruelty of her upbringing hit anew.
“That’s right. Mothers are won who love and protect children. They teach them things, and comfort them when they’re scared, and are proud of them when they accomplish sothing.”
Luna was quiet for a long mont, processing this information. Then she looked up at with those too-wise eyes.
“Do you think… could soone like you be a mother to soone like ?”
The question made my heart stop entirely. The way she phrased it—so carefully, so hopefully—as if she didn’t dare ask directly but wanted to know if it was possible.
The thought of Luna calling Mama made my cheeks burn. The image of her and Master as a real family, with as… as his wife in raising her…
‘What am I thinking?’ The rational part of my mind tried to reassert control. ‘This is a mission. We’re here to extract intelligence, not adopt children.’
But looking at Luna’s hopeful face, at the drawing of three stick figures she’d labeled as family, rationality seed less important than the overwhelming urge to protect this child.
“I think,” I said carefully, “that you deserve to have people who care about you like family does. People who want to protect you and help you grow.”
Luna nodded thoughtfully, then smiled. “I think that would be nice.”
If only she knew how much I already want to protect her. The thought of Luna soday calling sothing maternal—maybe Mama Cordelia—made my heart race and my cheeks burn with embarrassnt at my own presumption.
‘What would it be like?’ I wondered, watching Luna return to her drawing. ‘To have Master and I raising her together? To be a real family?’
The fantasy was so appealing it was almost painful. Luna bead and imdiately returned to her drawing, adding details to the three stick figures with renewed enthusiasm. As she worked, she chattered about the people she was drawing—how Arthur was kind and brought her books, and how I was nice and answered her questions, and how maybe soday they could all be together sowhere with a garden.
A house with a garden. She was imagining a future together, this child who’d never experienced anything beyond sterile walls and clinical procedures.
I watched her work, noting the careful way she drew each figure, the hope evident in every line. In her mind, we were becoming sothing like a family. She was choosing us as much as we were choosing her.
We have to save her, I thought fiercely. Not just extract her—save her. Give her the family she deserves.
“Cordelia?” Luna’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Do you think… when people leave places like this… do they really get to stay with the people who care about them?”
The question was asked with such innocent hope that it nearly broke my heart. She was asking if we would really save her, if we would really be her family, without quite daring to say the words directly.
“Yes, Luna,” I said aloud. “When people find their real family, they get to stay together.”
She smiled and returned to her drawing, humming softly to herself as she worked. And sitting there, watching Master Arthur’s… our… this precious child create art with colored pencils, I realized that my mission priorities had fundantally shifted.
It was about saving this little girl who was already becoming so important to both Master and .
Reviews
All reviews (0)