The Incubus System Chapter 957. You Made Her Cry

The Incubus System Chapter 957. You Made Her Cry

Buni was hopping up and down with excitement. “Celia made fried rice for you!” he exclaimed, his little nose twitching eagerly.

Rave, perched on the back of a chair, cawed in agreement. “Yeah, but we can’t eat it since it’s not our food. Too bad. Why does human food taste bitter once it touches our mouths?”

I couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. Their excitement was contagious, and for a moment, I let myself be swept up in it.

But then, in the midst of all the excitement, Shadow approached with his usual calm and collected demeanor. Unlike the others, he didn’t bounce around or chirp with excitement. Instead, he gracefully jumped onto the couch and sat beside me, his eyes piercing and observant.

“You made her cry. What happened?” he asked, his voice carrying that calm yet arrogant tone as always.

The question hit me like a cold splash of water, and I felt my smile falter.

Due to what Shadow said, Buni jumped onto the couch and headbutted Shadow. “Ugh, Shadow, you talk too much,” Buni complained, her little nose twitching with irritation.

“Celia already said there’s no need to mention it,” Rave added, his annoyance clear in his tone as he perched on the back of a nearby chair. His feathers were ruffled, and he looked ready to give Shadow a piece of his mind.

“You shouldn’t say anything about that!” Red said irritably, his tail wagging with agitation as he stood protectively by my side.

But Shadow didn’t seem to care about his friends’ words. He remained calm and unbothered, his piercing eyes still focused on me. It was clear that he had something important to convey, regardless of the others' protests.

“It’s okay, guys. I want to know,” I interjected, raising a hand to calm them. I turned to Shadow, feeling a mix of concern and curiosity. “Does she look mad?” I asked him, hoping to get some clarity on Celia’s emotions.

“No,” Shadow replied, his voice steady. “It’s not mad for sure. Also not sad. I’m not sure about the emotions she showed.” There was a hint of worry in his tone, subtle but there. It was enough for me to understand that his concern was genuine.

I didn’t say anything more to Shadow and turned my gaze toward the kitchen where Celia was busy with Foxy. The distance between us, the living room, and the kitchen felt symbolic of the emotional gap I feared had widened between us. The dining room lay in between, an empty space filled with the remnants of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Celia was moving with practiced ease, stirring the rice with one hand while Foxy handed her ingredients with the other. They were chatting softly, their voices blending with the sounds of cooking. From where I stood, I couldn’t hear their words, but I could see the tension in Celia’s shoulders, the slight stiffness in her movements.

What I had said to her earlier must have hit her hard. The problem was, I didn’t know which sentence had affected her the most. Maybe it was the way I had asked her to live as a human for me, to remind me of my own humanity. Or perhaps it was when I told her she didn’t need to break her seal if she didn’t want to. The uncertainty gnawed at me, each possibility feeling like a sharp edge cutting deeper into my guilt.

“Did she say anything else to you?” I asked Shadow, my eyes never leaving Celia as she continued to cook.

“Nothing,” Shadow replied, his tone calm but laced with concern. “I'm just worried because I don't understand what that emotion is. Is that regret?” he added, his curiosity evident.

“I don’t think so,” I said, though doubt tinged my voice. I wasn’t sure of my answer, and the uncertainty made my chest tighten. “I hope not,” I repeated, this time with a more melancholic tone.

Shadow took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving mine. “You haven’t answered my question, Your Highness,” he reminded me, his tone steady and insistent. That made me turn to him fully, feeling the weight of his concern.

“What happened?” Shadow asked again, this time his voice carrying a serious undertone that made my other pets fall silent. They were all waiting for my answer, their faces reflecting a mix of curiosity and seriousness.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. “I said my thoughts and my wishes for her,” I answered, trying to keep my voice calm and measured.

“So she was moved?” Red asked, tilting his head to the side, his eyes wide with confusion.

I smiled dryly, feeling the complexity of the situation press down on me. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “I can’t really say how she felt. We both know, but we can’t explain it. It hurts, sure, but not in a way that could mess up our relationship.”

My words seemed to hang in the air, and I could see the confusion still lingering in their eyes. They tilted their heads in unison, trying to grasp the nuances of my explanation. It was clear they didn’t fully understand, and their puzzled expressions made me smile dryly.

“Let’s just say she was moved then,” I said with a huff, giving up on a more detailed explanation. It was easier this way, even if it didn’t capture the full depth of what had transpired.

“Oh…” they said in unison, like an orchestra tuning to the same note. Their synchronized response was almost comical.

‘Yep, much faster this way,’ I thought, feeling a small sense of relief that the conversation had moved past the most difficult part.

I leaned down, looking each of my pets in the eyes. “Anyway, don’t mention this to her again, okay?” I reminded them, my voice firm but gentle. They responded with eager nods, their expressions showing understanding and agreement.