Their Queen's Back - Chapter 64: Chapter 64

"Emily, isn't this delicious?" Claire cautiously scooted closer and said in a coaxing tone, "Let me tell you, I know all the best food spots here and which rides are the most fun. So... want me to show you around?"
Emily narrowed her peach-blossom eyes with disdain, looking down like a proud peacock. She let out a cold snort. "No way!"
"Don't think I don't know what you're up to," she thought. "You've got ulterior motives, trying to get close to my sister. Not a chance."
Claire put on a pitiful expression and looked at Sis Skye. "Sis Skye, I just don't have any friends to hang out with. Even though my grades are top-notch at school, I'm still pretty much friendless. You're so kind and gentle—I thought your sister Emily would be just as wonderful as you, but it turns out she can't stand me either."
Skye gently explained, "She doesn't dislike you, Claire. Emily just isn't used to you yet."
Emily interjected sharply, "I do dislike her!"
Then she quickly ducked her head, idly poking at the little strawberries in her glass bowl. She scooped one up and popped it into her mouth, her eyes crinkling into satisfied crescents as she savored the sweet taste.
Skye gently ruffled Emily's hair. "Be polite—Claire is a wonderful girl. I even heard she ranks fifth in her grade."
Claire was over the moon when Skye mentioned her grades—she felt like she was walking on air.
With feigned modesty, she smiled and said, "Oh, Sis Skye, I'm just slightly above average, no big deal!"
Emily lowered her head, her chewing slowing to a stop. "Does she really only like people with good grades?" she wondered.
In a muffled voice, Emily looked up at her sister and asked, "Sis, you... you like people with good grades, don't you?"
Her last words were barely audible amid the din.
Skye didn't catch everything, only hearing the part about liking people with good grades.
She nodded honestly. "Yeah, I like people who do well in school."
The words sank deep into Emily's heart, and her expression darkened.
Lauren walked over, leaned in close, and whispered something in Skye's ear. Skye immediately stood up, her eyes flashing with urgency. Skye asked, "Are you sure? She's really there?"
Lauren replied, "She's on the street up ahead, Ms. Sky. Do you want to go now?"
Skye nodded decisively. "She's hard to track down. I'll go myself. You stay here and look after Emily."
"Understood, Ms. Sky," Lauren confirmed.
Skye reached out and pinched Emily's fair, tender cheek. "Emily, how about hanging out with Claire and Lauren for a while? Sis has something to do, but I'll be back soon."
Emily nodded. "Go ahead, I won't wander off."
"I'm not a little kid," she thought. "She must have something important to do if she's leaving."
Claire threw an arm around Emily's shoulders and grinned. "Hey, Emily, did you hear? Your sister wants you to hang out with me. You're done eating, right? Come on, let's hit the roller coaster—it's a total thrill! Let's go!"
"No way! I'm not going!" Emily struggled against her, glaring furiously.
Claire raised an eyebrow with a playful smirk and pulled Emily along. "No use saying no! This princess is taking you out—consider yourself lucky. Plenty of people would kill for this chance!"
Emily stubbornly turned her head away. "Then go play with them. Like I care."
Claire couldn't resist pinching Emily's adorable cheeks. "So soft and tender!" she thought.
"No wonder Sis Skye loves pinching her face so much," Claire mused.
Emily froze in shock for a moment, then instantly flew into a rage. She snapped, "What are you doing, Claire?! Who said you could pinch my face? You're so annoying, you know that? You evil old hag! I'm not playing with you—get lost!"
Claire wrapped her arms around Emily's, batting her dewy eyes coquettishly. "Come on, Emily, don't be mad," she cooed in a sugary voice. "I'm sorry! Let's hang out together, okay? Look how pitiful I am—just a lonely single girl with no one to play with. If we stick together, we'll make a perfect pair, won't we?"
Emily's face flushed crimson at Claire's sudden coquetry, and she pushed her away in embarrassed indignation.
"Who wants to be a pair with you, Claire? I'm not forgiving you—hmph!"
Emily glanced at her, her heart softening for a moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, putting on a feigned stern pose.
Then she said, "I'm only sticking with you out of pity. If you lay a finger on me again, I'm done playing with you."
"Alright, alright!" Claire grabbed Emily's hand and pulled her into a run.
"Slow down, Claire! I'll spill my drink," Emily protested.
Lauren picked up the water bottle and followed behind the two girls.
Following Lauren's clue, Skye walked onto Artisan Avenue—a street lined with small shops and walls covered in all kinds of graffiti. It seemed like a trendy spot for young people. She checked out several places, but still couldn't find the person she was looking for.
She asked the shop owner, who shook his head and said he didn't know the girl she was talking about.
The shop owner scoffed, "Most of the kids around here are just delinquents—always causing trouble, real troublemakers, the lot of them."
Skye nodded and said nothing more. Suddenly, a girl dashed past her, and in an instant, Skye grabbed the girl's shoulder.
"Charlotte?" she called out, hope in her voice.
The girl turned, but it wasn't her.
"Hey! What are you doing? Why are you grabbing me? Let go of me!" the girl snapped.
"Sorry," Skye apologized, releasing her grip.
She glanced at her watch—hours had slipped by. It was time to head back.
Jason was taking out the trash when he spotted a familiar silhouette in the distance. "Could that be her?" he wondered, quickening his pace.
Skye, sensing someone was tailing her, slowed down and ducked into an alley. Jason lost sight of her and anxiously rushed forward.
Suddenly, Skye was right beside him. So, it was him.
"Why are you following me?" Skye's voice cut through the air, startling Jason.
He spun around and saw her.
She wore a fitted black long-sleeved T-shirt that accentuated her figure, paired with simple blue pants—an ordinary outfit that, on her, radiated an indescribable, frosty elegance.
Even with her face half-hidden beneath a cap and mask, her commanding presence was unmistakable. When Jason met her piercing, ice-cold gaze, he instinctively stepped back, putting distance between them and lowering his head in embarrassment.
"S-sorry," he stammered, "I—I didn't mean to follow you. I just... wanted to thank you. For last time. Thank you."
Skye studied the boy carefully. "Sixteen years old?"
Standing at about 5'7", his posture was straight as a pine. His face was strikingly handsome, and his mature eyes hid a sharp, dangerous edge. If she had to describe him in one word, it would be a fierce, brooding intensity.
Recalling what Lauren had said, she wondered, "Could he really be the Fosters' illegitimate son?"
Skye dismissed him with a cold, "No need," and strode right past. Jason barely dared to breathe until she was far away, only then sneaking a glance at her retreating figure.
He wondered, "What's her name?" But he still didn't have the courage to ask.
Emily and Claire had an absolute blast together. By afternoon's end, soaked in sweat from nonstop fun, they'd become inseparable friends who shared everything.
"That was so close—we almost bit the dust back there!" Claire laughed, still catching her breath.
Emily nudged her friend's shoulder. "Oh, come on, Claire! Don't blame me—it was your stupid shoe that got stuck, remember?"
Claire raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, it's my fault, okay? Emily, I'm heading home now. Don't forget the gift you promised me tomorrow."
Emily nudged her. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You're so annoying! I said I'd bring it, so I will. Now scram before your driver leaves without you."
"Bye! And don't forget to say goodbye to Sis Skye for me!" Claire called out, waving as she got into the car.
Emily watched Claire's retreating figure, and to her surprise, she actually felt a twinge of reluctance.
She shook her head, trying to shake off those silly thoughts.
"It's not like I won't see her again. Why am I even feeling this way?" she thought.
Hmph.
"And I still have to bring her a gift tomorrow—what a pain," she grumbled inwardly.
Claire really is a handful.
"Emily, did you have a good time?" Skye suddenly appeared behind her, smiling warmly.
Emily looked up, meeting Skye's bright smile.
She gave a big, emphatic nod. "So much fun!" It was from the bottom of her heart—she'd never felt happier in her life.
Skye had taken her to the amusement park, and she'd even made a friend. Sure, Claire was a bit of a chatterbox and liked to get handsy—annoying at times, but actually pretty nice.
Skye smiled warmly. "Alright, let's head home!"
Right.
Once in the car, Emily took a couple of sips of water, her eyes clouded with confusion. She glanced out the window, then at Skye.
Noticing her troubled expression, Skye asked gently, "Emily, is there something you want to talk about?"
Emily poked at her fingers and lowered her head, the stray lock of hair on her head drooping listlessly.
"Skye, what's a real friend, anyway?" she finally asked.
Skye patiently explained, "You know, everyone has their own idea of what a real friend is. We're all different, with our own likes and dislikes. But to me, friendship means being truly happy together—maybe you can tell each other everything, or maybe you'd go through fire and water for them, treating them as your closest companion, like family..."
As she spoke, Skye's gaze grew distant, a trace of loneliness flickering in her eyes.
Emily drifted into her own thoughts. "Would I really be happy?" she wondered.
She had to admit, being with Claire made her genuinely happy—it was different from when she hung out with Meg.
Claire was so open and straightforward, never making her guess what she meant, while Meg always spoke in inside jokes she couldn't quite understand.
"Does that mean... we weren't real friends after all?"
Skye thought of Rachel—that once radiant, vivacious girl now labeled a "tigress," a "madwoman," consumed by jealousy, an unreasonable "shrew."
A "shrew." Who could understand the anguish behind those words?
It was time to see her.
Sophia had just stepped away to use the restroom when she returned to find a bouquet of roses and what appeared to be a hotel key card on her desk.
A hotel key card? Who could have left these here?
William's face went white as a sheet when he saw Sophia reaching for the roses. He barreled in, shouting, "Stop! Don't touch that! Sophia, that's mine—really, it's mine!"
He snatched up the roses and the hotel key card, clutching them to his chest and forcing a nervous smile at Sophia, letting out an awkward chuckle.
Worried she'd get the wrong idea, he blurted, "Look, don't get me wrong, okay? My wife sent these—it's our anniversary tonight. There was a mix-up and they ended up here. I'll just grab them and go."
Sophia suddenly realized and exclaimed, "Oh, I get it now, boss! Wishing you both happiness!"
William beamed as he carried the roses into his office, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. That was close—Sophia had almost caught him.
William quickly grabbed the card from the roses. On it, in bold letters, it read: "[Sophia, sweetie, 8 p.m. tonight, Crescent Plaza Hotel. See you there without fail. Here's to a successful partnership.]"
Peter, that damn lecherous creep, is still up to his old tricks.
After I ignored him last time, he kept snooping around. Now he's pushing for this collaboration and insists Sophia be the one to sign the contract.
And now he pulls this stunt? Fine!
Tonight, I'll go meet him myself.
William tore the card into tiny pieces and tossed them into the air. He snatched up the roses, hurled them into the trash, and, still seething with rage, stomped them into a pulpy mush.
His fists clenched tight in fury.
"Ever since I met Sophia, I haven't been able to get her out of my mind. I swear, I'll make her mine!"
"That old bastard William actually dares to ignore me? He really doesn't know his place."
"If it weren't for Sophia, would I ever stoop so low as to work with their pathetic little company?"
"Clueless. Absolutely clueless."
Lily watched as Peter dressed to the nines, then slithered up to him with a coquettish smile. "Babe, where are you off to looking so sharp?" she purred.
Peter shoved her away, annoyance and disdain flashing in his eyes.
"Back off. I have an important business dinner to attend. Just behave yourself, got it?" he snapped.
Lily flipped her hair and beamed. "Babe, what kind of dinner? Can't you take me with you? I'd love to expand my horizons."
Expressionless, Peter stood up and straightened his tie. "Lily, don't be a nuisance. Stay home, or you'll regret it."
Lily plopped down, clearly annoyed, and rolled her eyes. "That lecherous creep," she fumed to herself. "As if I'd believe you're really going to some dinner—you're obviously smitten with that homewrecker again. If it weren't for your money, I wouldn't even bother putting up with you. Who does he think he is?"
Peter poured two glasses of wine, rubbing his hands together in barely contained excitement as he paced the room.
"Sophia," he muttered to himself, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "You'll be mine in the end."
Rachel wore a white cheongsam as she entered the cemetery, walking up to an unmarked tombstone. Whenever she had time, she would come here to talk to her.
Her best friend was gone forever.
Lost in a plane crash that left no remains, all that was buried here was her bracelet.
The driver, panting heavily, helped her unload three large crates of joss paper from the car. After setting the last crate down in front of her, he nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
He could barely straighten up.
"That must have cost a fortune," he muttered to himself.
"Madam, do you need any help?" he asked.
Rachel waved him off. "No, you may leave."
Rachel personally burned the joss paper for Skye. "You're so heartless, leaving me all alone," she murmured.
She took out a thick stack of spirit money and began burning it.
Rachel murmured, "Yi, thanks for coming to me in my dream last night. It's been so many years since I last saw you, but there you were. After ten years, you've lost that youthful innocence—still as stunning as ever, cold and elegant like a fairy. Honestly, when I saw you, I thought you'd come to take me with you. But—well, when I opened my eyes this morning, I was still alive."
Rachel sat upright in her white cheongsam, her hair neatly coiled at the nape of her neck and secured with a silver hairpin adorned with jewels. Jade earrings accentuated the porcelain glow of her skin.