Chapter 163: Cuter By The Second

Leona stood frozen, her heart racing with a dangerous hope.

For just a moment, she imagined walking over to her daughters and her sister.

She thought of approaching them openly, without walls, without masks.

She imagined smiling at them. Laughing with them. Complimenting them.

Hugging them tightly, the way she had always wanted to.

Kissing their foreheads and telling them how much she loved them.

It would be the test, wouldn’t it?

The true test of whether the repercussions were still existent.

If she could show them her true self and nothing terrible happened, then maybe, just maybe the shackles that bound her were gone.

She took a step forward.

But immediately stopped.

A violent shiver racked her body and her face went pale, all color draining away as if she had seen a ghost.

Because in that moment, every single memory of the past came flooding back—every time she had let herself feel, every time she had opened her heart, every time she had shown love without reservation.

And every single time, something terrible had followed.

Loss. Pain. Suffering. Never to her as if the universe itself punished her for vulnerability by taking from her whatever she treasured most.

Her head spun. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t risk it.

What if something happened to Luna? To Lulu?

To anyone because of her moment of weakness?

She stepped back, retreating into herself.

And Luca noticed.

Without making a scene, he slipped sideways toward the others and suddenly clapped his hands loudly.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

The others blinked at him.

“Can’t you see she’s shy?”

Leona’s head snapped toward him.

“Shy?” She whispered, offended and confused.

“Yes, shy.” Luca repeated, gesturing dramatically toward her. “All of you are staring at her like she just descended from the heavens.”

A few of them exchanged amused looks.

“I mean, I understand.” He continued, folding his arms with exaggerated seriousness. “She’s beautiful. Elegant. Absolutely radiant. If I were you, I’d stare too. It’s only natural.”

“Luca.” She muttered sharply, her heart racing.

“But there’s a limit.” He went on smoothly. “If you keep staring like that, she’s going to faint from embarrassment.”

Leona’s pale face flooded with color—embarrassment this time, not fear.

She wanted to protest, to tell him to stop, but the words wouldn’t come.

“So…” Luca clapped once, pointing away from her. “Turn around. All of you. Give her some space. Let her recover her dignity.”

The elves, still chuckling, slowly complied. Heads turned away. Bodies shifted. The firing line began to resume its activity, though occasional glances and knowing smiles still flickered toward Leona.

Luna and Lulu turned too, though it was clearly difficult for them.

This was the first time in their entire lives they had seen their mother like this—so open, so expressive, so…human or elvish.

They wanted to watch, to memorize every moment, to bottle this rare version of their mother and keep it forever.

But they turned away. For her sake.

And Leona felt something loosen in her chest.

Not just because they had stopped staring. But because Luca was there. Right beside her.

His voice in her ear, his presence at her side, made her feel safe.

In the past, she had been alone. Desperately, utterly alone.

Every burden had been hers to carry. Every fear, every consequence, every loss—she had shouldered them all by herself because there was no one else.

But now, with Luca here, she felt different. She felt as if even if everything went wrong, even if the worst happened, he would be there.

He would handle it. He would protect her family, her villagers, everyone she loved.

It was an irrational feeling. She knew that. But it was there nonetheless, warm and steady in her chest.

A small smile crept onto her face.

She still couldn’t risk showing her true self to everyone.

The fear was too deep, too ingrained.

But with Luca? When it came to him, she realized she couldn’t hold back even if she tried. Something about him just made her walls crumble.

So she decided or perhaps accepted that with him, she would let herself be a little more open. A little more real.

Luca turned to her, concern replacing his earlier playfulness.

“Are you alright?” He reached into his bag and produced a water bottle, offering it to her. “You look pale. Here, drink some water.”

Leona stared at the offered canteen for a moment, then took it.

The water was cool and clean, washing away the dryness in her throat. She drank deeply before handing it back.

“Thank you.” She set the canteen on the table beside them. “I’m fine now. I was just…overwhelmed for a moment. By everyone staring.”

Luca studied her face and he knew it was because of something deeper, but he didn’t pry.

“You say you’re fine, but you still look a bit pale. But don’t worry…” He smiled. “…I know exactly what will make you feel better.”

Leona raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Luca gestured toward the table. Toward the sniper rifle.

“How about you shoot it?”

Leona blinked, caught completely off guard.

“You’ve been staring at this gun all evening.” Luca continued. “Analyzing it. Asking questions about every single part. It’s obvious you want to try it. And honestly?”

He shrugged.

“Everyone else has already shot something today. Even the little ones with their BB guns. You’re the only one who hasn’t actually fired a weapon.”

Leona looked at the rifle, then back at Luca.

Excitement flickered in her chest—genuine, childlike excitement—but hesitation quickly followed.

“Is it really alright?” She glanced at the weapon uncertainly. “I don’t know if I should be handling such a magnificent…but deadly…weapon on my own.”

Luca scoffed as he said in a accusing manner,

“Leona, I gave Nyx a shotgun.”

He pointed toward the clay pigeon range, where Nyx was currently reloading with practiced ease, surrounded by exploded targets.

“If I can trust someone like her—someone who’s literally dying to shoot that thing and coat everything in blood—then I think I can trust you with a rifle.”

He fixed her with a look.

“So I’ll ask you plainly: do you want to shoot it or not? Your choice.”

Leona looked at the sniper rifle. At its long barrel, its scope, its perfect balance of elegance and lethality.

She had been admiring it from a distance, studying it, dreaming about it without admitting to herself that she was dreaming.

And now Luca was offering her the chance.

She didn’t hesitate.

“Yes!”

The word burst out before she could stop it.

She nodded eagerly, rapidly, like a child being offered a treat.

“Yes, I want to shoot it! I most definitely want to shoot it!”

Her eyes were fixed on the rifle with undisguised reverence and Luca couldn’t but feel smile at her reaction as he said,

“Then let’s set it up.”

Luca spent the next hour guiding Leona through every aspect of the sniper rifle.

He showed her how to load the magazine, how to chamber a round, how to engage and disengage the safety.

He explained the breathing techniques, the trigger control, the importance of steady hands and patience.

To his surprise—and perhaps not so surprising—Leona absorbed everything effortlessly.

She had already asked so many questions about the gun’s mechanics that the technical aspects were familiar territory.

But more than that, she was simply a natural shooter.

Whether it was a bow or a gun, the fundamentals were the same: stance, breath, focus, release.

Her archer’s instincts translated seamlessly to this new weapon.

Soon enough, she was lying on the ground, the sniper rifle resting on its bipod before her.

The position felt strange—elves didn’t typically lie in the dirt to shoot—but Luca had been firm about proper form.

In the distance, a target had been set up. Much farther than the ones the others were shooting at.

So far that most elves couldn’t even see it clearly.

The other villagers noticed, of course.

They stole glances between their own shots, curious about what their former matriarch was doing.

But they didn’t dare approach or disturb her. This was her moment.

Meanwhile, Leona herself shifted uncomfortably on the ground, her brow furrowing.

“Luca.” She called out, looking up at him with mild indignation. “Can I not simply stand and shoot like you did? This position is…undignified. I’ll get dirty.”

Luca, standing nearby with arms crossed, shook his head firmly.

“Not a chance. I already told you, only I can do shoot while holding the gun.”

“If you try to shoot this standing up, not only will your aim be completely off, but the recoil will destroy your shoulder.”

He gestured at her prone position.

“This is how it’s done. Trust me.”

Leona’s expression remained dubious.

And seeing this, Luca sighed, then lowered himself to sit on the ground right beside her.

“There. Now we’re both on the ground. Does that make you feel better?”

Leona blinked at him, then a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

“…A little.”

Luca grinned.

“Good. Now—everything we went over. Safety off?”

“Off.”

“Loaded?”

“Magazine seated. Round chambered.”

“Cheek weld solid? Breathing controlled?”

She nodded once for each check, movements precise.

Luca gave a satisfied hum.

“Then whenever you’re ready. Take your time and shoot.”

Leona took a deep breath, centering herself.

This was it. After all her questions, all her analysis, all her careful observation—she was finally going to fire this magnificent weapon.

Luca watched her from the side, smiling quietly.

Seeing her like this—open, eager, trusting him enough to let the mask slip made something warm settle in his chest.

She adjusted her grip ever so slightly.

Finger brushed the trigger.

And then—

To his surprise, she pulled back.

Blinked. Frowned. Before finally looking up at him.

“…Luca.”

Her voice came out small. Confused.

“The scope isn’t working.”

“What?”

“I can’t see anything. It’s just…black.” She explained in confusion. “Completely black inside. Like looking into a wall.”

Luca’s brows shot up.

“That shouldn’t happen. The optic’s fine—I zeroed it myself.”

He leaned down, bringing his face close to hers to look through the scope.

They were inches apart, their faces nearly touching, and Leona suddenly became acutely aware of his proximity.

Her cheeks flushed and she pulled back slightly, flustered.

But Luca wasn’t paying attention to that. He was looking through the scope.

And it was perfectly fine.

He could see the target clearly. The crosshairs. Everything.

He pulled back, thoroughly confused.

“The scope is fine. Perfectly clear. Try again.”

Leona leaned forward once more, pressing her eye to the scope.

A moment later, she pulled back again, shaking her head.

“No, Luca. It’s black. Completely black. I can’t see anything at all.”

Luca stared at her, genuinely baffled.

Was it possible the scope only worked for humans?

Some strange biological incompatibility with elves?

He watched as Leona tried again, her eye pressing to the scope—

And then he saw it.

He saw the problem.

And the moment he did, he slapped his forehead, a groan escaping his lips.

Then, despite himself, he started chuckling.

The chuckles grew into quiet laughter, and he shook his head back and forth.

Hearing him laugh, Leona’s head snapped up, offended.

“W-What? Why are you laughing? It’s the gun’s fault! There’s clearly something wrong with the scope!”

Luca waved his hand, still chuckling as he said,

“No, Leona. There’s nothing wrong with the scope. The scope is perfect.”

“Then why can’t I—”

“The problem…” Luca interrupted, pointing at her with an amused grin. “…is you. You’re the one causing this.”

Leona’s mouth fell open.

“What do you mean, me? I followed every instruction! I did everything exactly as you said! Loading, positioning, safety, breathing—all of it!”

“You can’t possibly blame me for—”

“Yes, yes, all of that was perfect.” Luca interrupted again, his grin widening. “But when it comes to actually looking through the scope? You screwed up.”

He demonstrated with exaggerated movements.

“Normally, you put one eye to the scope and keep the other closed..”

“But you?”

He pointed at her in wonder and amusement.

“You’re closing both eyes the moment your face touches the scope.”

Leona froze at the absurd accusation.

Then her face twisted with indignation.

“That’s ridiculous! There’s no way I would make such an elementary mistake! You’re just teasing me!”

Luca held up his hands. “I’m not lying. I’m being serious.”

“You are lying! I would never—”

Without a word, Luca reached into his bag and produced a small hand mirror. He held it out to her.

“See for yourself. Prove me wrong.”

Leona snatched the mirror from his hand, determined to expose his lie. She positioned herself exactly as before, leaned toward the scope, and watched her reflection in the mirror.

But the moment her eye touched the scope—both her eyelids squeezed shut.

Baffled by this sight, she pulled back, stared at her reflection, and tried again.

Same result.

Again.

Same.

And the moment Leona realized what had been happening, her face burst into flame.

The color rushed into her cheeks so suddenly that it felt almost painful, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears.

The dignified composure she tried to maintain shattered instantly, replaced by a deep, burning embarrassment that left her momentarily speechless.

“I…what have I done…”

She turned her face away, unable to bear looking directly at him.

“I don’t know what I did.”

She said, her voice strained with mortification.

“I thought I was doing everything perfectly…but for some reason my eyes were closing at the same time. I-I didn’t even realize it.”

The admission itself only seemed to deepen her embarrassment.

For someone who prided herself on precision and self-control, such a simple mistake felt almost unbearable.

Luca, however, did not laugh at her.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly and asked in a calm tone,

“Can you wink, Leona?”

She looked back at him, still flushed.

“Wink?” Her brows knit together. “What does that mean?”

“It means closing one eye like this.”

He said, demonstrating casually. He exaggerated the motion slightly so it would be obvious.

“Like this. Can you do that?”

Leona tried.

She focused carefully, attempting to close one eye while keeping the other open.

Both of her eyes shut immediately.

She blinked and tried again.

Once more, both eyes closed together.

Her expression shifted from embarrassment to surprise as she attempted it again and again, concentrating harder each time.

Yet no matter how carefully she tried, no matter how much she focused on isolating one eye from the other, the result was always the same—the moment she attempted to close one eye, the other followed automatically.

Luca watched quietly, and after a few attempts he nodded slightly to himself.

“Ah, I see.”

His tone carried the quiet satisfaction of someone who had just confirmed a suspicion.

“It seems like you can’t close one eye without the other. That’s the problem right now.”

“But it’s totally fine.” He shrugged lightly. “Some people have that issue. It seems like you’re one of them and you can just wear an eyepatch to counter it.”

But then Luca leaned a little closer, curiosity now replacing amusement in his expression.

“But how in the world were you able to shoot a bow and arrow with that kind of problem?” He asked. “Normally you close one eye and keep the other open when you’re aiming.”

She answered quickly, almost defensively.

“I don’t do that.”

He blinked.

“I normally use both eyes when I aim.” She explained. “That technique works much better for me. So I never close one eye.”

Her gaze drifted down toward the rifle resting in front of her.

“I suppose that is why I did not realize it before.” She said quietly. “It feels strange for me to try to close only one eye and then to have the other close by itself…”

She trailed off, suddenly aware that Luca was looking at her with a peculiar expression.

A soft smile played at his lips, and his eyes held a warmth that made her stomach flutter inexplicably.

“W-What?” She asked, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Luca’s smile widened, but he simply shook his head.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

But inside, he couldn’t help thinking that the same cold matriarch he had first met—the woman who had looked at him as if she might prefer to see him dead rather than alive—was somehow becoming cuter with every passing moment.

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