The Paranoid Elf Queen Turned Me Into Her Sister

Volume 4 Chapter 12 – Long Time No See

Yimi felt mentally exhausted lately. She was over four hundred years old, after all. Granted, she had spent most of those four hundred years in a muddled state with no memory of what she’d been doing, waking up only to find herself transported four centuries into the future. But even so, biologically, she was over four hundred.

Four hundred—an adult even among the Elves. Yet she, a responsible adult, was being raised like an elementary schooler by that rotten woman.

Not only had Teresa provided her with an entire wardrobe of ridiculously childish clothes, even her school uniform had been swapped for some baffling children’s dress paired with kids’ white stockings.

Yimi dared not voice her fury. Her only form of resistance after being “bullied” by Teresa was to quietly mutter under her breath, “I’ll kill you someday.”

Naturally, with Elven hearing, Teresa heard it all—but she didn’t take it seriously. To her, Yimi’s little protests were no different from a spoiled kitten’s whimpering.

Never mind that Teresa handled all her meals, clothing, and housing—Yimi even had to run errands for her. She was tasked with looking after her “toy.”

Because of that, every day after class, Yimi had to head over to Dylin’s classroom to check if the puppet was functioning properly, if it had gotten into trouble, or if anyone had picked a fight with it.

Sometimes Yimi really felt like a fool. Why was she running around and worrying over a lifeless puppet?

The situation even sparked misunderstandings. Because she always rushed to Dylin’s classroom after school, stood at the door without going in, and peeked around the corner to observe, many passersby had spotted her.

Soon, rumors of a campus romance started circulating at the Divine Child School: Class 4’s flower Yimi had a crush on Class 1’s Crown Divine Child, Dylin.

Yimi had no idea this was happening—she was actually the last to find out. When the rumor had already spread across the entire Divine Child School, she stood stunned.

I don’t even know I have a crush on Dylin. How do all of you know??

She was dazed for a long time before she finally processed the information. But it was too late. The gossip had taken root. Her supposed crush on Dylin had become public knowledge.

As always, the moment the rumor spread, countless students clutched their chests and gnashed their teeth, internally cursing Dylin’s entire family.

Living with four beautiful girls was one thing—he already had the goddess-like Saintesses by his side. Now he was making moves on the Divine Child School’s flower too? How much more did this guy want?

He was going too far!

Of course, these were just private complaints. Most Divine Children were rational. Still, even they had to admit—Dylin was beginning to resemble those wish-fulfillment web novel protagonists: down on their luck at first, a system gifting them wives to help them through tough times, then cohabitating with a group of beautiful girls, and now even catching the attention of classmates.

The perfect male lead template. What next—a foreign princess falling head over heels for him on sight?

Come to think of it, all the girls around Dylin really were princesses.

At this point, Yimi was tired. She didn’t want to explain anymore. The rumor had mutated beyond recognition, far from what it had been at the start. Even the original source wouldn’t recognize it now.

No point explaining.

If there was no stopping it, might as well ignore it. The wise don’t spread rumors.

People only spread gossip to relieve stress from study anyway. It would fade with time.

And indeed, it should have—except after school, Yimi still had to go home with that puppet who couldn’t talk or think, just mechanically walked the route back.

This meant many people had seen the “scandalous” scene of her and Dylin walking home hand in hand.

Yimi wanted to shout—what do you mean hand in hand?! I was just walking next to it to make sure it didn’t fall into a ditch and break! If it got damaged, Teresa wouldn’t let me off easy!

But the public didn’t care what she thought. They were just in it for fun.

Now, according to the gossip center’s unilateral confirmation, Yimi and Dylin were officially dating. Dylin was a scumbag playing multiple girls at once, and Yimi was the willing backup girl. All these “facts” had been established.

Yimi was furious. She didn’t care if people gossiped about the puppet—it wasn’t even real. But why did she have to get dragged down with it? Why did she have to bear the reputation of some flirtatious vixen?

She was full of resentment. But she had promised Teresa to take care of the puppet, to prevent unnecessary trouble. So she could only grit her teeth and endure.

And now, there was an even weirder junior at home. The moment she saw the puppet, she froze on the spot like she was in heat or something, staring unblinkingly.

Could she have figured something out?

That thought made Yimi’s gaze toward Astrid more suspicious.

She didn’t care if Astrid could tell—but if even a non-Divine Child like her could sense something off, then others surely could as well.

Was it really that obvious?

Yimi inspected the puppet beside her, rubbing her chin. As a top Divine Child, the disguise was laughably crude to her. But to outsiders, it should be flawless.

Its movements weren’t stiff. Could it be the material? Maybe it didn’t look quite lifelike enough?

Sitting on the sofa with time to spare while Wenfu cooked, Yimi began poking at the puppet.

Hmm, soft.

To check the texture, she poked her own stomach too.

They felt about the same.

In terms of belly button texture, it wasn’t any different from hers. What about other parts?

Yimi continued her examination, exploring the puppet’s body thoroughly in the name of research.

“What are you doing?~”

The sudden voice behind her made Yimi’s neck stiffen. She turned to see the golden-haired girl in an apron leaning forward slightly, hands on her knees, smiling sweetly.

The puppet sat upright on the sofa. Meanwhile, Yimi, somehow, was kneeling between its... legs.

“??” Yimi’s expression twisted. She didn’t know exactly what this posture implied—but it felt very wrong.

“Are you... violating your duties?” Teresa teased.

“What do you mean by violating my duties?! Don’t say weird things! I was just checking if the puppet’s still functioning properly, making sure there are no visible flaws!” Yimi puffed her cheeks and lowered her voice to avoid being overheard.

“Ohhh~” Teresa replied meaningfully, her gaze full of implication. “It’s okay, I get it. You’ve lived a long time. It’s only natural to be curious about the opposite sex’s body.”

“I said that’s not it!!”

Astrid, who happened to walk in from the kitchen, caught sight of the scene. Her pupils tightened. Seeing two Gold Elves flanking Dylin—especially Yimi’s posture—her face flushed red at a visible speed.

Th-This was way too indecent… doing something like that in front of everyone…

Wait?

Peeking through her fingers, Astrid suddenly felt puzzled.

Why… wasn’t the underwear removed?

“You little rascal.” Teresa poked Yimi’s nose. “Taking advantage of my puppet when I’m not looking? You like my toy that much? I can lend it to you for a couple days if you want.”

“Rrrgh!” Yimi bared her teeth, lunging like a rabid dog to bite Teresa’s finger—only to get her forehead flicked instead.

“Alright, time to eat.” Teresa tugged on Dylin’s arm—a signal only she and Yimi understood. It was how she prompted the puppet to move with her.

To outsiders, though, it looked like a display of affection.

Astrid watched silently, lips pressed together.

At the dinner table, she listlessly picked at her food. For once, she was home for dinner, and Wenfu had made a deluxe fruit and veggie salad for her. Yet she barely touched it. This made Wenfu a little disheartened, wondering if her standing in the team was at risk.

After dinner came nap time.

Once the puppet was safely stored, Teresa returned to being Dylin.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she had once believed this was her true form. But after regaining her memories, she now knew the body she was most familiar with was actually her second life’s body—like the part of an iceberg hidden beneath the surface, vast and real.

But this body was also real—there was no doubt.

They were both her.

After wiping her face, she left the third-floor bathroom—only to bump directly into a silvery figure at the corner.

“Dylin?” I had been walking back to my room, lost in thought, and hadn’t noticed him. When we collided, that familiar scent of books and grass hit me, and I felt dazed.

Suddenly, I remembered our first meeting. I had been lost in the woods, attacked by some thugs, and he had saved me before I had even awakened as a Divine Princess.

He wasn’t strong—thin, slight of frame—but I remembered how he’d shielded me without hesitation. Even with just a poor-quality flintlock, this frail, unqualified Divine Child had stood between me and danger.

Courage wasn’t the absence of fear. It was the will to act in spite of it.

He’d threatened the thugs with his weapon, shouting at them, eventually getting beaten up, but still holding on to the leader’s leg and telling me to run.

Maybe that was when… I fell for him.

Yes...

How could I forget something so important?

“...Astrid?” Dylin looked confused. After bumping into me, I didn’t move. I remained in his arms.

What was going on? Was this some Elf mating instinct?

“Don’t move.” He tried to pull away, but I wrapped my arms around his waist.

He was taller than me. If I buried my head, it landed in his chest.

Dylin didn’t expect me to be this assertive. His human body had no chance against mine—my strength was far greater.

...The familiar scent. It was him, no doubt.

Inhaling deeply, I let out a long sigh, like a smoker savoring the first puff.

Maybe it was his imagination, but Dylin thought my eyes looked... strange just now.

Beautiful moonlit irises—were they... heart-shaped for a moment?

Must’ve been his imagination.

Reluctantly, I let go, realizing how out of line I had been.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“Mm...” I nodded.

Dylin’s expression twitched. Of course he knew I wasn’t sick. I’d been lively that morning. There was no way something happened just this afternoon.

He was just being polite—but I actually responded.

“Then go rest. Drink plenty of hot water.”

He clutched his chest.

Now that his memories were back, it used to take the hair ornament to transform into Teresa. But now it was reversed—without the ornament, he couldn’t stay in Dylin’s form long.

And the ornament... was in the room...

He tossed out the famous straight-man line and turned to leave—only to find he couldn’t move.

Two delicate hands had clutched his coat hem. They looked fragile like porcelain—but the strength they conveyed left him rooted in place.

This is your idea of “not feeling well”? Dylin muttered inwardly.

“Is there something else?”

“Can you… stay with me for a while?” I lowered my gaze, voice soft with a tinge of vulnerability. “We haven’t talked in so long.”

“Don’t you want to talk to me?”

There was something I didn’t say aloud.

Even though I had seen Dylin several times since coming back—this was the first time it felt real.

This was our true reunion.

“But I...” But my ornament’s still in my room...

That was what Dylin wanted to say. But when those usually cold eyes looked at him with such fragile longing, his heart melted.

...Fine. Just a little while. What could go wrong?

Dylin knew I wasn’t sick. I probably just wanted his company.

But was this really okay?

Dylin was a fictional identity. The more this baseless fantasy continued, the worse it would be for me.

Still, seeing his silent agreement, I gently tugged on his sleeve, covering my mouth slightly, pulling him—toward my room.

Just a talk, and it has to be in your room?

Dylin was... confused.