I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl

Velthya looked at Sylvia, her eyes still shining with relief, and let out a light laugh. The sound was gentle, echoing faintly in the wide chamber, as if brushing away the last chill carried in from outside.

"Sylvia, you must be tired after such a long journey." Velthya leaned forward, her silver-furred tail swaying softly, as if to speak along with her voice. "Would you rather eat first, or go straight to rest?"

Sylvia turned slowly, her face calm as ever. Her red eyes caught a faint reflection of the firelight from the hearth. "Hmm… I'd like to eat first."

Velthya laughed again, this time with a warmth only found in old friendship. "I thought you'd say that. Then dinner shall be served." She raised her hand, summoning one of the servants who had been waiting respectfully by the door.

"Bring in the full meal," Velthya ordered. "Make sure the table is filled. Tonight, we must welcome Lady Sylvia properly."

The servant bowed deeply and departed quickly.

The main hall fell quiet again, filled only with the crackle of firewood and the occasional whisper of wind slipping through the seams of the old windows. Velthya kept her gaze on Sylvia for a long moment, as if trying to make sure her friend was truly there, not some trick of longing.

"I still can't believe it," Velthya finally said. "You're sitting here, in front of me, after so long. So many nights I wondered… do you still remember Anarats, or… have you forgotten this little city?"

Sylvia lowered her gaze for a moment before replying softly. "How could I forget? This place holds much for me. And you, Velthya… I could never forget you."

Velthya smiled, her golden eyes glinting. "Those words alone put me at ease."

For a while they fell silent, but it wasn't the silence of distance rather the ease that comes only from an old bond.

Soon, the carved wooden doors of the hall swung wide. Several servants entered, carrying large trays laden with steaming dishes. A savory fragrance immediately filled the air: rich spiced meat stew, golden-crusted loaves of bread, roasted cuts glistening under thick sauce, and bowls of bright winter vegetables.

Steam rose and mingled with the woody scent of the fire, wrapping the room in comforting warmth.

The servants arranged the feast neatly across the long table: polished silver spoons, ceramic plates adorned with wolf motifs, and crystal glasses catching the hearth light. At the center, a bottle of dark red wine gleamed in the fire's glow.

"Please, sit," Velthya said, patting the chair beside her.

Sylvia obeyed, her steps unhurried. The dark gown she wore shimmered faintly in the light, and her long black hair slid down her shoulders. She sat without fuss, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

Velthya smiled with satisfaction at the sight, then turned to the servants. "Leave us. I want to be alone with my guest."

They bowed and withdrew quietly, closing the doors behind them. Only the two women remained along with the laden table and the crackle of the hearth.

Velthya lifted the wine, pouring the red liquid into two crystal glasses. "To this night," she said, raising hers. "To our reunion."

Sylvia looked at the glass for a moment, then lifted her own. "To our reunion," she echoed, her voice flat but her eyes carrying a faint warmth.

The glasses touched with a soft chime, sealing the threads of friendship anew.

They began their meal. Velthya ladled steaming stew into her bowl and took a careful sip. Her cheeks flushed from the heat, yet her smile broadened.

"Ah… this is what winter food should be. Nothing beats root stew when the snow falls," she said.

Sylvia only regarded the bowl before her. She touched the spoon and stirred slowly, knowing her body no longer required human food. Yet for the sake of company, she sipped the broth. The rich spices warmed her throat.

Velthya's eyes gleamed as she watched. "You can still enjoy it, can't you?"

Sylvia gave a slight nod. "The taste… is soothing."

For a time they ate in silence only the faint clink of silver and the quiet pour of wine. It wasn't awkward, but peaceful, as if words were unnecessary.

After a while, Velthya leaned back in her chair, turning her glass in her hand while watching Sylvia. "You know… since you left, much has changed in Anarats. The city has grown, but the attacks have grown as well. Monsters from the north come bolder, and the Church… they meddle more often in city affairs."

Sylvia set her spoon down, her eyes narrowing. "I expected as much. The world drifts toward instability."

"Exactly," Velthya nodded. "That's why your presence matters not only to me, but to this city. The people will rest easier knowing Lady Sylvia is here, even if only for a while."

Sylvia studied her in silence, then said quietly, "I cannot stay long. There are things I must finish. But… for now, I will remain by your side."

Velthya's smile returned not merely relieved, but grateful. "That alone is more than enough."

Dinner went on until nearly all the dishes were touched. Velthya ate heartily, often laughing or recalling old memories. Sylvia, though she barely sampled the food, remained with quiet grace, listening, offering the occasional faint smile or brief remark.

The hearth crackled, the wine dwindled, and the night deepened.

At last, when Velthya laid down her final spoon, she looked at Sylvia with softened eyes. "I hope tonight eased a little of your weariness. You always seem strong, Sylvia… but I know even you need a place to rest."

Sylvia met her gaze, then gave a small nod. "Perhaps you're right."

Velthya's smile grew, and she stood. "Come, I'll show you to your chamber. I've kept a room prepared just for you. I never knew when you might return, but I always hoped you would."

Sylvia rose slowly. Her black mantle shimmered faintly, her gown trailing with natural grace. "Then show me the way."

They walked side by side, their steps echoing down the long corridor lit by oil lamps. Their shadows stretched across the stone walls, two figures from different worlds, yet walking the same path.

The guest chamber lay upstairs, its wide window overlooking the city. Heavy silver curtains framed the view; a large bed dressed in fresh white linens awaited. On a bedside table, a vase of dried lavender spread a faint fragrance.

"This is your room," Velthya said with quiet pride. "I've made sure it was always kept clean. I wouldn't let my friend sleep in dust."

Sylvia stepped inside, her eyes sweeping the space. "You prepared all this… for me?"

"Of course," Velthya said warmly. "Because I knew one day you'd return. And when you did, I wanted you to feel Anarats was still your home."

Sylvia fell silent. Something flickered in her gaze not sorrow, nor joy, but a warmth seldom seen on her face. "Thank you, Velthya."

Velthya's smile widened as she stepped back toward the door. "Rest now. Tomorrow, I want to show you much about this city… and myself. We've both changed."

Sylvia inclined her head. "Very well."

Velthya closed the door gently, leaving Sylvia alone.

Sylvia moved to the window and drew back the curtains. Below lay Anarats, blanketed in snow, its streets glowing with torchlight, the night sky studded with faint stars.

Her hand touched the cold glass. Her red eyes glimmered, her reflection a pale shadow behind the pane.

"Anarats…" she whispered. "I may not be able to stay long. But tonight… I will call this place home."

She let the curtain fall, then sat upon the white bed. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and weariness from the long journey finally settled. She closed her eyes, and sleep claimed her swiftly.

Outside, snow kept falling, covering the traces of the road that had carried her here.

- - -

Velthya walked back to her room with slow steps. A faint smile still lingered on her face, though her mind was filled with many thoughts. Every moment she had spent with Sylvia tonight brought her a sense of relief, a feeling she had rarely known in a long time.

She truly came… she thought. At last, I'm no longer alone in facing all this.

She closed the door behind her and leaned for a moment against the carved wooden panel. The candlelight on her desk flickered with the draft from the window, casting shifting shadows across her thoughtful face.

There was so much she had wanted to tell Sylvia tonight. About the Church, which was slowly but surely weaving its way into the politics of the great kingdoms. About how, under the guise of spreading "light," they had begun planting their influence among the nobility even upon her own father, the Lycanthrope King who should have stood firm in defense of their kind.

Velthya clenched her hand into a fist. "Father… such a fool. So quick to believe the honeyed words of priests."

She walked to the window, drew back the thin curtain, and gazed at the falling snow outside. The night was tranquil, yet her mind was restless. Humans had never truly favored her people, but the Church wrapped everything in cunning politics. They pressed the idea that human must reign above all, while every other race was nothing more than accessories.

It was poison. Poison creeping into the very veins of the kingdom.

Velthya drew a long breath. I can't burden Sylvia with this too soon. She knew Sylvia had come after a long journey and needed time to breathe, to steady herself.

Yet the truth weighed in her heart: she had never been fully honest with Sylvia. All this time, she had hidden her status as a princess of the Lycanthrope Kingdom. To the people of Anarats, she was only the governor, the leader both stern and close to the folk. No one knew she bore royal blood blood that had chosen exile, leaving the palace behind, sickened by its ceaseless intrigues.

She closed the curtain again and sat at the edge of her bed. The memory of her mother rose in her mind as a wise woman who should have been the balance of power.

"If only Mother were still alive…" she whispered. "The kingdom wouldn't have fallen into such disarray. But that accident… even her body vanished. None of it makes sense."

Her eyes blurred for a moment. Then she shook her head slowly, straightening her back once more.

For now, all I want is for Sylvia to rest. Tomorrow… Tomorrow I will begin to speak.

With that thought, Velthya extinguished the candle on her desk and lay down upon the bed. Her heart felt a little lighter for the first time in a long while, she no longer felt truly alone.