"Alright," she interrupted Xiakong's frantic defense, her gemstone-like eyes glinting in the dim light. "He heard and saw your music and your song. Didn't you want to follow him always and sing for him? Your Mr. 'Accomplice' is right inside, and the opportunity is right in front of you, you know?"
She deliberately used the term "accomplice," reminding them of the unique bond they shared.
Xiakong's heart beat even faster. The alcohol and Coletta's blunt words created a mix of courage and shame. She murmured, "I... I can't... I'm just... I don't know how to..."
"Don't know what to say?"
Coletta chuckled. Watching her flustered state, she suddenly remembered her own bravery on the deck earlier, and a near "senior-like" mentality spontaneously arose.
Coupled with a subtle calculation deep in her heart—since I can no longer monopolize him, I might as well pull in the most harmless ally—and a certain inflated emotion after sharing immense joy, she made a bold, even absurd, decision.
She suddenly reached out and grabbed Xiakong's wrist. Xiakong's hand was covered in sweat from nervousness.
"Stop hesitating!" Coletta's tone carried an unquestionable decisiveness, even a hint of bewitchment. "Happiness won't fall into your lap just from pacing and waiting! Let's go in!"
"W-Wait! Coletta! No—" Xiakong cried out in panic, completely unprepared for this turn of events.
She tried to struggle, but under the influence of alcohol, her strength was no match for the currently iron-willed Coletta.
Using a mixture of pulling and pushing, Coletta dragged the bewildered and terrified Xiakong, opened the door to her luxurious master cabin once again, and then swiftly shut it behind them, sealing off everything outside.
Only a dim bedside lamp illuminated the cabin.
Rover had already been awakened by the commotion at the door. He sat halfway up, the thin blanket slipping to his waist to reveal a sturdy chest. His golden eyes looked toward the door through the dim light, carrying the haziness and vigilance of having just woken up.
When he saw the returning Coletta, and the blushing, lute-hugging, terrified-little-rabbit Xiakong she was dragging by the hand, the expression on his face morphed into utter bewilderment.
"...Coletta?" he asked in confusion, his voice still carrying a sleep-laced huskiness. "This is...?"
The atmosphere in the room instantly became extremely delicate and ambiguous.
Coletta looked at Rover's bewildered expression, then at Xiakong, who was practically shrinking into a ball beside her. A belated blush crept onto her own face.
But since they were already here, she decided to just go all in.
She released Xiakong's wrist, took a step forward to the edge of the bed, and spoke to Rover with a reckless boldness and a hint of slyness: "My Mr. 'Cat's Eye'... your other 'accomplice'... seems to have something to say to you, too. I saw her hesitating so pitifully at the door, so... I brought her in."
Xiakong stood at the door, wishing she could vanish on the spot. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would leap out of her throat. She didn't dare look at Rover on the bed, nor did she dare look at Coletta.
She was completely stunned, her mind a total blank.
Rover instantly understood Coletta's intention.
He looked at Coletta. Her eyes flickered with a complex light—the possessiveness of a newly established relationship, a bizarre desire to share, the intent to "help" a friend, and even a trace of mischievous excitement.
He then looked at Xiakong—the red-haired poet who had sung so bravely under the setting sun, now so fragile and nervous she looked as if a touch would shatter her.
He remained silent for a moment, his gaze shifting between the two girls of vastly different styles, both harboring sincere feelings for him.
The cabin was incredibly quiet. It seemed the only sounds were their breathing and the gentle caress of the ocean waves outside the window.
Finally, he sighed softly. The bewilderment in his eyes gradually dissolved into a profound calmness and an indescribable sense of acceptance.
He showed no signs of disgust or rejection. Instead, facing the practically petrified poet at the door, he slowly spoke, his voice deeper and gentler than usual:
"Xiakong?"
Just the calling of a name—no questioning, no urging—yet it seemed to carry an invisible power that made Xiakong's trembling body pause slightly.
Seeing Rover's reaction, the last trace of uncertainty in Coletta's heart vanished, replaced by an even more surging impulse.
She turned and walked back to Xiakong. No longer forceful as before, she gently took her cold hand. Like the whisper of a demon, yet akin to the encouragement of an angel: "See, he isn't angry. Xiakong, tell him... tell him what you're thinking, just like I did..."
Pulled by Coletta, Xiakong involuntarily shuffled forward a few steps, finally lifting her eyes to look timidly at Rover.
When she met those golden eyes, still calm and profound under the dim light, all the alcohol, all the hesitation, all the fear seemed to transform into a desperate, all-or-nothing courage.
Tears fell without warning. She choked back a sob, her voice small yet clear: "I... I want to sing for you... I only want to sing for you... Wherever you go... my songs will go... Does... does this count as another kind of 'accomplice'..."
Her confession was filled with a poet's romance and a humble plea.
Rover gazed at her for a long time. Slowly, he reached out a hand—not toward Coletta, but toward Xiakong.
This gesture was like an unmistakable signal of acceptance.
Coletta's heart skipped a beat, but she didn't stop it; instead, she gave Xiakong a gentle push.
As if bewitched, Xiakong walked step by step to the edge of the bed and placed her cold, trembling hand into Rover's palm.
The next moment, Rover exerted a slight force, pulling her toward him.
Xiakong let out a low gasp. Losing her balance, she fell onto the edge of the bed, landing right against Rover's side, naturally encircled by his arm.
With a soft thud, the theorbo fell onto the plush carpet.
Coletta also walked over and sat on the other side of the bed. She watched the scene before her—Rover holding the incredibly shy Xiakong, while Xiakong leaned entirely into his embrace as if finding her ultimate sanctuary.
An indescribable emotion gripped Coletta—a mix of excitement, nervousness, and absurdity, laced with an immense sense of satisfaction.
She leaned over and turned off the dim bedside lamp.
The moonlight became the master once more, flowing into the cabin and hazily illuminating the entangled silhouettes of the three people on the bed.
Whispers, gasps, shy exploration, and deeper passion intertwined and spread through the darkness...
The theorbo lay quietly on the carpet, silently witnessing how its master found her melody and her way home tonight in the most unexpected manner.
Waves of indulgent sounds drifted once again from the Opal's master cabin.
The night was still long. The ocean waves gently pushed the yacht forward, sailing toward the impending dawn.
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