Chapter 72: Asking for help
Stefan’s POV
Belladonna held me under just long enough to make her point before something in her seemed to catch, some thread of control reeling itself back in even though the fury still radiating off her in waves.
She hauled me up out of the water and flung me straight onto the floor outside the tub, no gentleness in it at all, and I hit the ground hard enough that the air punched clean out of my lungs.
I coughed, water spilling out of my mouth, my whole spine screaming from the impact, my neck aching in a way that told me I’d be feeling this for days if I didn’t do something about it fast.
"Damn it!" I gritted.
Belladonna stood over me, dripping, her heavy chest heaving, water running in rivulets down her arms as she stared down at me like I was something she was still deciding whether to finish off.
"You lie to me," she began, snarling, each word landing like a strike, "you mock me in my own chambers, and now you dare put your hands on me without permission." She crouched slightly, close enough that I could see the fury still burning steady behind her eyes, controlled but not diminished.
"Understand this clearly, Alien. I do not tolerate insolence from warriors twice your strength. I certainly will not tolerate it from a slave."
"I meant no disrespect, General." I managed, my voice coming out hoarse, throat still raw.
"You meant exactly what you did," she snapped, straightening again. "Do not insult me further by pretending otherwise."
"Tread softly around me," she went on, colder now. "I could end you with less effort than it takes to blink. The only reason you still draw breath is because my Flowers still need whatever you claim to be able to give them. That debt is the sole thing keeping your throat intact. Do not test how thin that thread has already worn."
I swallowed hard, throat raw, because I knew, with total certainty, that she wasn’t exaggerating even slightly.
"Remove yourself from my presence. And do not return to me again without my Flowers standing behind you as proof of your worth." She said sharply.
The system chimed at the exact wrong moment, because of course it did.
[BELLADONNA — STAT UPDATE]
Desire: 0%
Loyalty: 0%
Trust: 0%
Affection: 0%
I glared at the empty air like it might actually feel the weight of my resentment. "Really? Rubbing salt in it now?" I muttered under my breath.
The system, predictably, said nothing to that.
I dragged myself up off the floor, every movement pulling at something bruised, water still dripping off me in a trail down the corridor, and limped my way out of her chambers, wincing with every step, one hand braced against the gold-veined wall just to keep myself upright.
[INVENTORY REMINDER: Healing oil available for purchase. Cost: 60 AP.]
I stopped mid-limp and stared at that notification like it had personally insulted me because it actually just did. "You want me to pay you for an injury I got trying to complete a mission you gave me?" I snarled aggressively.
[Host chose his own approach,] the system replied, calm as ever, infuriatingly reasonable. [No party is to be blamed but host himself.]
"You could’ve warned me she was going to try and drown me."
[Host was warned. Repeatedly. By The General herself.]
I had nothing to say to that. I gritted because the system was correct. I groaned, long and pained, and kept walking, dripping the whole way back to my own room like some half-drowned rat someone had decided to let live out of spite.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Back in my room, I’d finally handed over the AP, sixty of it well spent the second the healing oil hit my skin. The ache in my spine dissolved almost instantly, the bruising along my ribs fading like it had never happened at all, and I let out a long, grateful breath as the last of the pain finally released its grip on me.
Now I lay stretched out on the bed while the Hand worked her fingers slow and careful over my shoulders, easing out whatever tension the oil hadn’t fully caught. Her hands were gentle, practiced, nothing like the bone-deep ache Belladonna had left behind, and for a few minutes I just let myself exist in the simple relief of it.
"Keep going like that. Good girl." I moaned with relief.
The system’s mission notification blinked quietly in the corner of my vision the whole time, patient, unbothered by my injuries, utterly indifferent to the fact that I’d very nearly drowned trying to earn it.
[INCUBUS ASCENSION — Development Arc]
Mission: Encourage Jonquil and Belladonna to accept the soft treatment.
Reward: 50 Miracle Authority, +10 Charm, 1x Wooden Chest.
Penalty: -50 Miracle Authority.
[1/2 completed]
I stared at those numbers for a long moment, doing the math I really didn’t want to do. Fifty either way. Fifty gained if I somehow pulled this off, fifty gone if I didn’t, and I was standing right in the middle of that gap with absolutely no idea how to tip it in my favor.
I’d tried sincerity. Failed, cleanly, without even a flicker of interest to show for it.
I’d tried pride, the exact trick that worked so cleanly on Zinnia. Failed, and made things measurably worse, judging by the look she’d given me right before ordering me out.
I’d tried force, dragging her bodily into water and hoping proximity alone might do what words couldn’t. And that had very nearly gotten me killed, then earned me a flat, humiliating row of zeroes across every stat that mattered, plus a lecture on exactly how thin the thread keeping me alive had already worn.
I didn’t have a fourth idea. Not one. My entire arsenal, every trick I’d ever used to talk my way into a bed, a bank account, a stranger’s trust, had just been tested against one woman and had failed at every single turn.
The Hand’s hands paused briefly on my shoulders, waiting for some instruction I hadn’t given, and I waved her on absently, my mind still stuck circling the same impossible problem.
Belladonna had made herself painfully, formally clear. She would kill me. Not threaten, not posture the way half the women on this planet did before eventually softening under enough charm. She would actually do it, calmly, without hesitation, and the only thing standing between me and that outcome right now was her own sense of duty toward two unconscious warriors still lying somewhere waiting on a miracle I hadn’t figured out how to give either of them yet.
I closed my eyes, exhaled slow, and finally did something I genuinely couldn’t remember doing since I’d landed on this planet.
I asked for help.
"Alright," I muttered, low enough that only the system would catch it.
"I’m out of tricks. Give me something. Anything. How do I get through to that woman without losing a limb in the process?"