Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts

Elara tilted her head. "So my presence serves a specific purpose, but I can’t know what it is because knowing would prevent me from fulfilling it."

"Yes."

"That’s..." Elara paused. "...actually logically consistent. Annoying, but consistent."

The woman smiled slightly. "See? You *can* accept things that don’t make immediate sense when they’re properly explained."

"I can accept logical constraints. I can’t accept arbitrary authority." Elara sat back down, mirroring the woman’s position now. "But this raises more questions. If there’s a specific purpose to my being here, then your moral lecture about compassion and choice is—what? A test? A requirement? Or genuine concern?"

"Can’t it be multiple things?"

"In theory, yes. In practice, people—even divine people—usually prioritize one motive over others."

The woman laughed softly. "You really don’t trust anyone, do you?"

"My last father figure murdered me. Trust isn’t high on my priority list."

"Fair enough." The woman’s expression grew serious. "Here’s what I can tell you: Yes, there’s a reason you’re here specifically. Yes, someone wanted you in this role. Yes, I’m constrained by rules I can’t fully explain. But ’also’ yes—I genuinely care whether you survive this. Whether you thrive. Whether you learn to... to live instead of just function."

She met Elara’s eyes directly.

"The purpose you’re meant to serve and your actual wellbeing aren’t mutually exclusive. I can want you to fulfill a specific role ’and’ want you to be happy doing it."