Dila, still swaying slightly from weakness, said sharply to the maid, "You know what… forget it!. Just leave us alone!. I don't need your help!, and I don't need you!. Sorry if I was in your way—please, step aside. I want to go outside."

The maid hesitated for a moment, then quickly stepped aside, bowing deeply again while murmuring, "Sorry… sorry…"

Fran, still close to Dila and assisting her, smiled slyly and thought in her head, You better beware… Sister Dila is only mine. Her eyes gleamed mischievously as she glanced toward the maid, subtly weaving her body to subtly assert her presence without saying a word aloud.

As they reach outside and stepped into the open garden, careful to remain unnoticed, an elderly elf gardener came into view. He hummed softly to himself, "Hmmm! Hmmm! Hmmm!" as he gently watered the flowers, eyes closed in peaceful focus.

Suddenly, his ears twitched, and he opened his eyes. "Ohhh… what brings you here, Princess?" he asked warmly.

Fran stiffened beside Dila, her ears twitching and a small squeak escaping her lips, "Eek!"

Dila froze for a moment, startled, her eyes darting frantically around the garden, searching for any possible way to escape without being seen. Her heart raced, every instinct screaming caution as she weighed her next move.

Dila coughed lightly, her voice strained as she said, "Well… I was just… searching for some fresh air to breathe."

Fran quickly chimed in, her tone bright and a little nervous, "Yeah, Mister… fresh air! Hehe… that's right! I was helping the Princess… to breathe some fresh… air, hehehe." She closed her eyes and tilted her head, smiling awkwardly.

The elderly elf gardener chuckled heartily, a deep "Ohh, hohoho… you're a funny cat girl!" escaping him. Fran's tail flicked rapidly side to side, betraying her nervous excitement as she tried to appear casual.

Dila, meanwhile, kept a wary eye on the surroundings, making sure no one else had spotted them yet.

The gardener's eyes twinkled as he suddenly shifted the topic. "Ohh, Princess… I heard you were fighting your father, hahaha!" His laugh was loud and blunt.

Dila glanced to the side, avoiding his gaze, unsure of how to respond. The gardener leaned a little closer, grinning, "So… who wins?"

Dila swallowed nervously, her cheeks warming. "Errr… ummm… I think… I win… yeah… ahhh hahahaha…" Her laugh was forced and jittery as Fran continued assisting her, steadying her unsteady steps.

The gardener nodded slowly, smiling faintly. "I see…" His tone carried a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

The gardener paused, his expression softening, but then he chuckled lightly. "Hmmm… you look like you've been beaten up pretty badly, Princess. And I heard… your father cried for days, so much that he would have destroyed everything just to see you revive."

Dila's eyes sharpened, a flicker of anger flashing through him. Her voice tightened, trembling slightly with restrained rage. "Tch… you should not have stuck your nose into this, mister."

Fran tensed beside her, subtly shifting to shield Dila as her tail twitched with irritation, ready to intervene if needed.

The gardener raised his hands slightly, a gentle smile still on his face. "Ohh, Princess… you just misunderstood me," he chuckled softly. "I'm not here to fight. I was just… here to talk, and, well, garden."

Fran relaxed a little beside Dila, her tail lowering as she felt the tension ease.

Dila, still frowning, shook her head slightly. "Still… you should not bring that topic up. That old fart—father of mine—almost killed me."

The gardener's eyes widened in surprise. "Why…?"

Dila's gaze hardened, cutting the conversation short. "It's none of your business. I don't want to bring this topic up anymore."

Dila turned her head toward Fran, her expression tired but determined. "Let's go, Fran," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Fran blinked, slightly startled. "Where do we go, Sister?" she asked, tilting her head, her ears twitching with curiosity and concern.

Dila sighed, her shoulders slumping a little as she glanced around the quiet garden. "I… I don't know yet," she admitted, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for some invisible path forward.

The old gardener, has bent back over his flowers, hummed softly to himself as he watered the petals. Without looking up, he called out gently, "Good luck, Princess… and to you too, cat girl."

Dila and Fran exchanged a brief glance, a shared understanding passing between them. Without another word, they began walking down the garden path, the morning sunlight glinting off the dewy leaves, leaving the gardener to his work and the quiet rustle of flowers behind them.

Suddenly, as Dila and Fran made their way along the garden path, Dila's sharp eyes caught sight of a familiar figure sitting on a bench at a crossroad farther ahead. Albedo was there, basking in the warm sunlight, his posture calm but commanding, his gaze wandering idly over the garden as if surveying his domain. The sunlight glinted off his white hair, and the quiet rustle of leaves framed the otherwise still scene.

Dila's heart skipped. She quickly crouched a little and whispered urgently to Fran, "Let's hide… Fran, this fart is about to see us if we don't." Her voice trembled slightly, a mix of fear and lingering anger.

Fran froze, her blue eyes widening as she twitched her face. "Really, Sister… you're going to call your father a fart now?" she whispered back, a small hint of disbelief lacing her tone.

Dila's lips quivered, and tears welled in her eyes. Her voice cracked as she hissed through her teeth, "He's a murderer, Fran… he's a murderer!" A shiver ran through her, and a quiet sob escaped, her grief and anger blending together as she clutched Fran's hand tighter.

Fran's tail flicked nervously, but she gently pressed a hand to Dila's back, offering silent support as the two of them crouched low behind a row of flowering bushes, hiding from Albedo's distant, unknowingly watchful eyes. The garden smelled sweet and warm, but for them, the moment was thick with tension and unspoken emotion.

Suddenly, Albedo's deep voice cut through the gentle rustling of the garden leaves. Even though he was still basking in the sun, he didn't turn his head. "Where are you going, my daughter?" he asked, his tone calm but carrying that familiar weight that made the air feel heavier.

Dila's eyes widened in panic, her chest tightening as if the words had physically struck her. She leaned slightly back behind the bush, her hands clutching Fran's arm for support. "Ohh… my god," she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with fear and the leftover anger she could not fully mask.

Fran's eyes mirrored Dila's shock, widening as she glanced at the imposing figure of Albedo, still serene under the sunlight yet radiating that subtle, unyielding authority. Fran instinctively shifted closer to Dila, ready to support her if needed.

Albedo spoke again, his voice gentler now, almost coaxing. "Come out, please. I won't bite you, my daughter." There was a softness there, but Dila's heart pounded too fast to trust it.

Fran started to rise slightly, trying to step forward, but Dila gripped her arm firmly, pulling back and shaking her head. She whispered, a mix of defiance and fear, "No." Her body tensed, her back pressed against the hidden shadows of the bush, as though willing herself to disappear from sight.

The garden around them felt suspended in that moment—the sunlight warm, the scent of flowers in the air—but all that beauty seemed distant, swallowed by the tension between Dila and her father, and the fragile thread of safety she clung to behind Fran.

Albedo's voice carried across the warm morning air, calm yet edged with that quiet authority that made even the flowers seem to bow. "Ohh, my daughter… why did you leave your room while you're still healing? Don't tell me you're planning to escape this castle." His eyes glowed faintly blue, a soft shimmer that didn't need to meet theirs to make their hearts thump, as he continued basking in the sun.

A sudden breeze rolled through the garden, ruffling Dila's silver-white hair and Fran's dark navy locks, carrying with it the scent of flowers and fresh grass. It felt almost like the world was trying to breathe with them, but it only made the tension heavier.

Fran leaned closer to Dila, her voice trembling as she whispered, eyes wide with fear. "Sister… are you planning to escape now? I thought you only planned to leave once you were strong enough."

Dila's face darkened, shadowed by frustration and exhaustion, her whisper barely audible. "Sorry, Fran… I can't take it anymore… I don't like this place."

Fran's voice cracked as she whispered back, her worry evident and tears glimmering at the edges of her eyes. "No, sister… don't do it now… it's suicide at this point."

Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the garden's life. Fran's chest tightened as she watched Dila's trembling figure, her small hands gripping hers, knowing that any decision made now could change everything.