Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 228

Chapter 228: See You Again (7)
Ahcehera had just left the grand halls of the Interstellar Council, her mind still replaying the intense debates over resource allocation and war strategy. The echo of bureaucratic voices clung to her thoughts, weighing her down. As the security convoy trailed a respectful distance behind her, she signaled them to pause and took a detour into the open market of Sector Virellis.

It was rare for someone of her status to wander through a place like this, but today, something about the scents of freshly ground spices and the hum of civilians living their ordinary lives pulled her in. For a moment, she was just a woman among vendors, not a battle-hardened commander nor the daughter of a king.

She purchased herbs, dried fruit, and a few fresh cuts of alien meat, ingredients she didn’t need but wanted simply because they reminded her of simpler days. As she moved through the rows of stalls, a commotion near a metal crate caught her attention.

A group of street boys was jeering and pushing a tiny figure with torn clothes and tangled hair. The child barely stood her ground, but her expression was defiant, her small hands clenched at her sides. Without thinking, Ahcehera strode forward, her presence enough to silence the group.

The boys scattered the moment her eyes locked on them, recognizing her without a word. She knelt before the girl, who looked no older than seven, and saw a swelling bruise near her temple. “Come,” she said softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The child hesitated only a second before nodding. They entered a nearby restaurant, and the owner, startled by Ahcehera’s sudden arrival, rushed to clear a private booth. She sat the girl down, ordered a full meal, and waited as the child devoured every bite with quiet hunger.

Her name was not registered in any local system. Curious and disturbed, Ahcehera called for Adelana, her most trusted aide, to look into the girl’s background. Adelana left without question, and Ahcehera remained with the child, sipping tea while watching the little girl finish her plate.

There was something strange about her, an eerie quiet, not out of fear but acceptance. She did not cry or ask for more. She merely folded her hands on her lap and waited as if she knew the world owed her nothing.

When Adelana returned, her face was grim. “The girl was adopted unofficially,” she whispered. “The couple who took her in were from a remote colony. We found out they rescued her during a covert mission that freed victims from an illegal human trafficking ring. The couple died last month in a Zerg siege.”

Ahcehera’s jaw tightened. The child had been abandoned again, first by circumstance, then by war. Before she could offer any form of comfort, the girl looked up and spoke clearly, her voice firm and eyes steady. “Thank you for saving me.”

The words struck something deep within Ahcehera. She had heard many thanks in her lifetime, war cries, diplomatic gratitude, and praises from soldiers, but this was different. The girl’s tone was not grateful in desperation but filled with genuine admiration and maturity far beyond her years.

“What’s your name?” Ahcehera asked gently.

“I don’t have one,” the girl said. “My foster parents just called me ‘little one.'”

“You must have called them something?”

“Mama and Papa,” the girl replied, a soft sadness in her eyes. “They were kind. But I knew they were scared, too. They hid me when the zerg came.”

Ahcehera looked at her in silence for a moment, then asked the question she hadn’t planned to ask, “Do you know who I am?”

The girl blinked, then shook her head. “No. But when I saw you, I felt you were the kindest person I’ve met since they were gone.”

The simplicity of the words and the innocence behind them unraveled something inside Ahcehera she thought long buried. She had built walls around herself, bricked with duty and loss, forged in fire and steel. But this girl looked past all of that and saw her not as a warrior or a commander, but as someone kind. As someone safe.

“Why did you want to come with me?” she asked again, searching the girl’s face.

“Because I want a mother,” the girl said without hesitation. “And I want it to be you.”

It wasn’t a plea or a calculated request. It was raw, honest yearning from a child who had already lived through the cruelty of abandonment and war. Ahcehera sat back, stunned by the weight of such a request.

In her life, she had commanded legions, faced demon gods, and saved planets. But the idea of becoming a mother? It had never once crossed her mind. Yet here was this small girl, placing her faith in her without a second thought.

There was no prophecy, no divine light guiding the moment. Just a simple truth. A connection unexplainable by logic or reason. She reached across the table and gently held the girl’s hand. “Alright then,” she said. “From this day forward, you are mine.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Ahcehera smiled. “Yes. But you’ll need a name.” She thought for a moment, then whispered, “Liliana. That suits you.”

Liliana repeated the name softly, as if testing how it tasted on her tongue. Then she smiled, small, shy, but radiant. Ahcehera’s chest tightened again, not with grief this time, but something softer, warmer.

Adelana discreetly stepped back, understanding without a word. By nightfall, the adoption was made official through the Interstellar Civilian Registry.

Liliana was registered as Ahcehera’s daughter, and arrangements were made to provide her with quarters in the command base. A new room was designed for her, filled with books, soft light, and toys. It was a small sanctuary amidst a world still at war.

In the following days, Ahcehera found herself glancing back more often when walking, making sure Liliana kept up. She started buying sweeter fruits, avoiding the bitter teas, and found herself telling stories before bedtime, stories not of war but of stars and gentle beasts that guarded lonely planets.

Liliana listened to them with awe, sometimes resting her head against Ahcehera’s arm as she drifted to sleep. There were moments of silence between them that spoke volumes.

Ahcehera didn’t need to be told how much the girl had lost, she could feel it in every glance, every quiet word. And in return, Liliana didn’t ask about the ghosts in Ahcehera’s eyes.

They simply existed together, slowly weaving a new thread of family in the middle of a galaxy torn apart. For the first time in months, Ahcehera found herself smiling for no reason, walking slower, listening more.

She was still a commander, a warrior, a strategist, but now, she was also a mother. Not because it was planned, but because fate had dropped a child into her life at a time when she didn’t even know she needed one. And somehow, the universe made sense again.

Not because the wars had ended, or because her magic had returned, but because a little girl named Liliana had looked at her with unwavering trust and declared, without doubt, that she was worthy of love.