Chapter 231 – The Weight of Love
The tension hadn't fully vanished.
But it softened.
The sun had risen higher, warming the treetops outside the chamber windows. The scent of nectarfruit and morning dew drifted lazily in through the breeze. A table had been prepared — low and circular, surrounded by cushioned seats, with tea that none of them touched yet.
Alex sat between Ciel and Vira. Morgan remained opposite them, arms still crossed, but no longer bristling.
Ciel spoke first.
Her voice was as gentle as moonlight on still water.
"I didn't stop him… because I wanted him to be happy."
Morgan looked up slowly.
Vira glanced sideways, curious despite herself.
Ciel continued.
"I never thought about who would be first. I didn't ask for a title. I didn't care about being wife, mistress, or anything else."
She smiled faintly, folding her hands in her lap.
"As long as he loves me… I'm content."
Morgan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Even if that love is shared?"
"Love," Ciel said, "was never something I wanted to trap."
She turned to Morgan gently.
"You are my sister, Morgan. So is Vira. So are Hanabi and Airi. So is Mircella. Even Queen Ileana… in a strange, elegant way."
She paused, her voice softer now.
"If I fought to be the only one, I'd hurt him. And I don't want that."
Alex looked at her, his expression unreadable — but his heart felt like it had stopped for a moment.
Morgan's lips parted.
But no words came.
Because she understood.
Finally.
The person she had believed to be the most worthy — the one she had thought deserved Alex's first time — had never even asked for it.
She had simply loved him.
Quietly.
Without expectation.
Without selfishness.
Ciel turned toward Vira next.
"That includes you too, Vira."
The elf girl blinked.
"Me?"
"Yes," Ciel said with a soft smile. "I know how proud you are. How fierce. But… I'm happy that he chose you."
Vira stared at her, unsure how to react.
Because what she saw in Ciel now wasn't just beauty or poise or otherworldly calm.
It was something terrifying.
Unselfish love.
No envy.
No bitterness.
Not even a shadow of possession.
Just… joy that the person she loved was happy.
Vira turned her gaze down.
She had prepared herself for rivalry.
For cold contempt, veiled barbs, or noble politicking.
But what she had found instead was the most disarming thing of all.
Kindness.
And more than that — a genuine wish for her happiness from the one woman she thought would be her greatest threat.
Vira looked at Alex.
Then at Ciel.
And for the first time in her life…
She wondered if her love — proud, wild, consuming — could ever grow to be that selfless.
She didn't say anything.
She didn't need to.
Because in her silence, something in her heart shifted.
And she knew it.
The tea finally steamed between them — poured, untouched, finally sipped.
For a moment, things were calm.
Too calm.
Ciel sat quietly, cradling her cup in both hands. Her eyes, usually serene and distant like starlight, now glimmered with something… different.
Expectation.
She tilted her head toward Vira, her tone perfectly casual — too casual.
"Vira," she said softly.
"Hm?" Vira replied, taking a sip.
"Are you pregnant with his child?"
Both Vira and Alex choked violently.
Tea sprayed across the table in twin bursts of shock.
"W-What?!" Alex coughed.
"Excuse me?" Vira gasped, eyes wide.
Ciel blinked once, gently tilting her head.
"I thought… maybe. You said the night was long."
The words were spoken so simply. So hopefully.
Vira turned red instantly — not just her cheeks, but all the way down to her collarbone.
"I'm—! No, I'm not pregnant!"
Ciel's gaze dimmed slightly, like a fading star.
"Oh…"
She looked down at her tea.
"That's disappointing."
Morgan froze.
Vira blinked.
Even Alex was too stunned to speak.
Ciel continued in that same serene, heartfelt voice — soft but undeniably sincere:
"I was imagining what it would look like… your child. Half-elf, half-human. Golden hair like sunlight, but his eyes."
She held her cup a little closer, a faint sparkle returning to her gaze.
"I thought… maybe I could hold it. Rock it to sleep."
She glanced between them.
"You'll try again, won't you?"
Another beat of silence.
Vira's mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
"I—" she started, then finally blurted, "Why are you not angry?!"
Ciel blinked slowly.
"Why would I be angry?"
"Because I had sex with the man you love!"
"Yes," Ciel said with a small smile. "And that's why I'm asking if you're pregnant."
Morgan put a hand to her temple, whispering:
"This woman is terrifying."
Ciel's smile faltered again.
"I just… wanted to know. I imagined rocking him in my lap. Holding his fingers. Feeling his warmth. I thought… it might feel like family."
Her voice dropped.
So quiet it almost wasn't there.
"I wanted to know what that kind of love feels like."
And in that moment — for all her divine poise, all her wisdom and grace — Ciel looked…
Lonely.
Vira stared at her.
And for the first time…
She didn't know how to respond.
Because this wasn't envy.
This wasn't rivalry.
It was a soft, aching wish.
So pure it made her chest hurt.
And across from them, Alex finally lowered his cup and looked at Ciel with new eyes — not just as a partner or guardian or being of impossible power.
But as someone who had once been a world…
And now only wanted to hold a piece of one.
Chapter 232 – The Kind of Love That Waits
The air in the royal gardens was warm with the glow of late morning. The tension from earlier had faded, but something unspoken still lingered between them — not hostility, not rivalry.
Just questions.
Vira found Ciel seated alone on a high balcony draped in woven vines. She wasn't floating this time. She sat like a normal girl, hands folded in her lap, gazing into the sky where mana threads drifted like auroras.
Vira stood nearby for a moment before speaking.
"Ciel."
Ciel turned her head, smile gentle.
"Vira."
The elf hesitated. Then sat beside her — not too close, but not guarded either.
They sat in silence for a few seconds.
Then Vira asked it — plainly.
"If you could have his child… would you?"
Ciel blinked.
Not in surprise.
In reflection.
"I've thought about it," she said softly.
"You have?"
"Yes," Ciel admitted, her eyes drifting downward. "Many times."
Her voice wasn't dreamy.
It was quietly honest.
"Not because I want to compete. And not because I want a piece of him to keep for myself."
She looked down at her own hands.
"But because I want to give something to him. A new life. Something warm. Something that belongs to us — to all of us."
Vira didn't speak.
Ciel went on.
"But I'm not sure I was meant for it. Not in the biological sense. I was once a system. A world. A memory that dreamed."
She gave a tiny laugh.
"I don't know if I can even carry life inside me."
That made something stir in Vira's chest — not pity.
A strange, quiet respect.
Ciel smiled again and turned toward her.
"But you can."
Vira blinked.
"You're strong. You're proud. You carry legacy in your blood… but you chose him."
"So what?"
"So," Ciel said, "I hope it's you. I hope you have his first child."
Vira stared at her — stunned.
Because she saw no jealousy.
No calculation.
Only hope.
Only sincerity.
Only… love.
"I don't understand you," Vira muttered.
"You don't need to," Ciel replied.
Then she held out her hand.
And Vira saw it.
A ring.
Worn on Ciel's left ring finger — elegant, black and gold, shaped like a band of stars orbiting a single, clear core.
Ciel smiled.
"All of us have one."
Vira's breath caught.
"You mean—"
"Alex made it for me first," Ciel said softly. "But now, each of us wears one. Not because of rank. But because we belong to the same heart."
She took Vira's hand gently.
"I'll ask him to make one for you."
Vira didn't pull away.
Didn't protest.
She only looked at the ring.
At the way it shimmered with a quiet promise.
And for the first time in her life, she felt what it meant…
To be chosen.
And to be accepted.
Not as a rival.
But as a sister.
The scene shifted.
A short time later, in one of the quieter towers of the Sunleaf Court — one that overlooked both the starlit canopy and the sacred forges of Alfheim — Alex stood at a table surrounded by mana tools, crystal dust, and glowing thread-lines of light weaving through the air like calligraphy.
Ciel stood to one side.
Vira stood to the other — arms crossed at first, but her heart… steady.
"So," Alex said, already focused on the shaping circle before him, "you really want one?"
Vira glanced at Ciel.
Ciel gave her a nod — warm and silent, as if saying it's okay now.
"Yes," Vira replied, voice softer than usual. "I do."
Alex smiled faintly.
"Then I'll make one that fits you."
He raised one hand and began — threads of energy and material coalescing with practiced ease, mana-imbued fragments drawn from the core of the elven forge and mingled with magic only he could wield. The ring began to take shape in the air — a glowing, spiraling form of grace and subtle strength.
It shared the same celestial pattern as the others.
But this one was forest gold and emerald green, flecked with glints of light like falling leaves in the sun.
It shimmered with the warmth of her pride — and the depth of what she had given him.
When it was done, Alex held it gently.
Ciel stepped forward and smiled.
"You should put it on her finger directly."
Alex blinked.
"You sure?"
Ciel simply nodded.
Vira's cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't retreat. She extended her hand — steady, waiting.
Alex stepped in front of her.
His black eyes met her golden ones.
No crowd.
No altar.
Just them.
His fingers took hers, gently.
And he slid the ring onto her left ring finger.
The fit was perfect.
It clicked into place with a soft pulse of light, syncing not only with her mana, but with her very presence.
Vira looked down at it.
And felt something shift — not her power, not her pride…
Her heart.
Ciel stepped back silently, watching.
And Vira, for the first time in her long, sharp, confident life…
Felt grateful.
To another woman.
To a sister.
To Ciel.
And as the wind rustled the trees around the tower, Vira spoke softly — just loud enough for Alex and Ciel to hear:
"Thank you… for letting me be part of his world."
The ceremony was over.
The ring gleamed softly on Vira's finger, matching the color of her mana — emerald and gold.
Alex, content but emotionally drained, remained behind in the tower chamber, quietly putting away the forging tools. He didn't notice when Vira and Ciel slipped out into the silver-green halls of the Sunleaf Court.
They didn't speak at first.
They walked.
Through garden paths braided with glowing vines. Through curtain-split corridors where birds sang songs not meant for human ears. The air smelled of moonfruit and morning dew, and everything was too quiet to break.
It was Ciel who finally spoke.
"I'm happy he made it for you."
Vira glanced down at the ring again, unsure of how to reply.
"I… never thought I would wear something like this," she murmured. "Not from a man. Not without a war first."
Ciel smiled faintly.
"Sometimes love is a war."
Vira snorted.
"You fight differently than I do."
"I know," Ciel said gently.
They stopped beside a low tree where glowing fruits hung above a pool of still water. Fireflies drifted through the air like scattered stardust.
Vira looked at Ciel sideways.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"You said earlier that you weren't sure if you could ever carry a child. But if you could… would you?"
Ciel was quiet for a long time.
Her eyes didn't look at Vira. They looked at the pond. At their shared reflections.
"Yes," she said at last. "I think I would."
"Even knowing someone else might give birth first?"
Ciel nodded.
"Because it's not about being first," she said. "It's about giving him something that lasts. A life beyond pain. A future beyond survival."
She hesitated.
"But even if I never bear one myself, I'd still want to hold them. Raise them. Love them. All of them."
Vira stared at her.
And something inside her shifted again.
Not melted.
Not cracked.
Just… softened.
She looked away, frowning.
"If I ever do," she muttered, "have his child before you…"
Ciel turned.
Vira's voice lowered.
"You'll be the first to hold it."
Ciel blinked.
Then smiled.
"Thank you."
They stood like that for a while.
Two women once poised as rivals.
Now standing not as enemies, not even as friends…
But as something stronger.
As sisters in the same impossible love.
And as the wind drifted past them, singing through the ancient leaves, Ciel reached out — not to hug, not to bow, but just to gently touch Vira's hand.
No words were needed.
And the chapter faded in that quiet, shared peace.
Chapter 233 – What the Court Whispers
Rumors travel faster than light in Alfheim.
Faster than wind-chimes in storm breezes.
Faster than mana across the ancient branches of the World Tree.
By midday, the palace was already buzzing.
Not officially, of course — no noble would dare speak such things aloud in the presence of Queen Ao. But behind closed garden doors, in tea rooms lined with soft wind-charms and enchanted mirrors, the whispers had taken root.
"Did you hear? Vira… the daughter of the Queen… she let him put a ring on her finger."
"Not just let him — she asked for it."
"The human?"
"Yes. The one who defeated the god."
"I heard they spent the night together. In her wing."
"That's treasonous!"
"That's romantic."
"That's… dangerous."
The rumors split like threads — some breathless with awe, some drenched in jealousy, and a few laced with quiet fear.
Because if it were anyone else, they'd be exiled.
But Vira?
She wasn't just a princess.
She was the future of Alfheim.
And she had fallen in love.
But it wasn't just Alex they whispered about.
In the shadows of mirror pools and balcony corners, a second name began to circulate — not spoken clearly, but with narrowed eyes and hushed wonder:
"There's another…"
"A silver-haired woman with golden eyes."
"She walks beside Vira. Talks with her like… an equal."
"No one's ever seen Vira speak that way to anyone."
"Some say she's a goddess. Others think she's from beyond the realms."
"She smiled at Vira — and Vira didn't glare."
"She even touched her hand."
"Touched her hand?!"
"Like… a friend."
The court didn't know what to make of it.
Because Vira Dracaris Sunleaf had never called anyone friend. Not among her own people. Not even among her cousins. She had always been aloof, cold, radiant — a sword wrapped in nobility.
And now?
She walked beside a strange, soft-voiced girl with celestial grace and eyes like liquid dawn.
They didn't argue.
They didn't scheme.
They talked.
As if they shared something no one else in the kingdom could understand.
Something more dangerous than war.
Something more disruptive than rebellion.
Love.
And for the first time in centuries…
The palace was no longer whispering about who would become Vira's consort.
Now, they whispered:
"Who is he really?"
"And who are they to each other?"
The whispers reached Queen Ao.
Of course they did.
They always did.
The Queen of Alfheim sat alone in her scrying chamber — a vast, circular room lined with reflective vines and mirrors that showed not just images, but intention. Here, truths echoed louder than spoken words. Secrets had no place to hide.
She stood at the center, arms folded, golden crown glinting in the pale light.
Before her, several mirrors shimmered — all tuned to different corners of her court.
In one, two noblewomen sipped tea and gossiped about Vira's sudden gentleness.
In another, a cluster of young guards speculated — inappropriately — about the human who "tamed the princess."
And in the third… Vira herself.
Walking beside a silver-haired girl with golden eyes.
They weren't sparring. They weren't negotiating. They were smiling.
"So," Queen Ao murmured, her voice carrying like silk brushed over steel. "It's true."
She didn't sound angry.
Not yet.
She turned to one of her advisors — an old elf with a cloak of night-blue leaves who had stood quietly at the edge of the chamber, not daring to speak until spoken to.
"Do we know her name?"
"Not officially, Your Majesty. But… the guards report she emerged from the human's symbol magic. She may be one of his companions."
"A concubine?"
"No, my Queen. She… she walks with Vira as if they are equals."
Queen Ao's expression shifted — slightly.
"And my daughter?"
"Changed, Majesty. Softer. But not weaker. Just…"
The old elf hesitated.
"She smiles now. Like she's not alone."
Queen Ao turned back to the mirror.
Ciel's reflection remained still — her eyes glowing with warm calm, her posture serene.
She touched Vira's shoulder at one point.
And Vira didn't flinch.
Didn't scowl.
She nodded.
And said something that made the silver-haired woman smile.
Queen Ao's fingers drummed lightly against her arm.
"That girl… she's dangerous."
The advisor stiffened.
"Should we remove her?"
Queen Ao's gaze sharpened.
"No. That would be foolish."
She tilted her head slightly, golden hair cascading down her shoulder.
"Vira doesn't respect anyone. Not even me, sometimes."
"But this girl?" she said softly, almost to herself.
"This Ciel… Vira listens to her."
There was a pause.
Then the Queen gave a soft, humorless chuckle.
"A human with no house… a goddess in the shape of a girl… and now my daughter walks with them like they're the only ones who've ever understood her."
She turned away from the mirrors.
"Let them watch. Let the nobles whisper."
"And if they try to interfere—"
Her voice hardened.
"—they'll answer to me."
The vines of the chamber trembled with her power.
And in the mirror, Vira and Ciel continued walking beneath the starlit trees — unaware that the most powerful woman in Alfheim had just chosen…
To protect their bond.
Chapter 234 – The Threadless Path
Skuld was annoyed.
No, that wasn't right.
She was furious.
The mirrors in her private chamber cracked with the faintest pulse of her frustration. Golden runes danced erratically across her fingertips as she leaned forward once more, eyes narrowing against the flow of fate.
"Show me…"
Another thread unraveled.
Another possibility collapsed.
Another blank void stared back.
She growled softly.
Dozens of glowing timelines spun in the air before her — possibilities, futures, diverging paths and converging destinies.
She touched them one by one.
Each time, the moment Alex appeared…
Black.
Not fog.
Not resistance.
Just nothing.
"Again," she muttered.
She reached out further, pulling at deeper layers — tugging on the subtle undercurrents of fate with the ease of someone who had done this for eons. She had traced kings before birth, watched stars collapse and rebuild into prophecies.
But this?
This was like trying to read a book that had been ripped from existence.
"Why can't I see you?" she whispered.
The void answered in silence.
But Skuld wasn't done.
She reached again — deeper.
Past divine threads.
Past the mortal web.
Beyond what even her sisters dared observe.
And then—
Something moved.
A flicker of reaction.
Not resistance.
Defense.
The world around her twisted.
The mirror lights dimmed.
Her own shadow stretched.
The threadlines around her snapped.
And before she could scream or pull back—
Darkness.
She collapsed, silently.
The glowing floor caught her gently as she fell, golden eyes fluttering closed. Her magic dimmed like a flickering lantern.
She lay there — asleep.
Still.
And the palace of the Norns, resting between time's folds, remained quiet.
Until—
"Skuld?!"
Two voices rang out in alarm.
Her elder sisters — Verðandi and Urðr — rushed into the chamber, their long robes catching flickers of spilled mana and uncollapsed timelines.
Urðr's eyes widened.
Verðandi knelt immediately, checking Skuld's pulse.
"She's alive. Just—"
"—Asleep," Urðr finished grimly.
They exchanged glances.
They'd seen this before.
Long ago.
When Skuld had overreached — too many futures, too many rewinds, too much curiosity all at once.
"She pushed too far," Verðandi said softly.
"Again," Urðr sighed.
They gently lifted her into a floating cradle of woven light, guiding her down the spiral stair to her private chambers — a bedroom draped in silks shaped from nightwinds, her pillow carved from the foam of star-touched rivers.
Urðr brushed a strand of golden hair from Skuld's face.
"She'll sleep for two or three days," she said. "Like before."
"She was chasing something."
"Someone," Verðandi corrected.
Their eyes met.
No need to speak the name.
They both knew.
The man even fate refused to touch.
Alex Elwood.
Later that day…
The skies above Alfheim shimmered with soft afternoon light as a teleportation gate pulsed gently to life in one of the palace's upper terraces. Mana swirled in quiet spirals, the breeze brushing through the sacred leaves.
Alex stood beside the gate, coat buttoned, his hand resting loosely on the hilt of his blade.
Morgan waited just behind him, arms folded, her silver hair fluttering faintly. Her expression was neutral — but she glanced toward the palace halls as if searching for someone.
Ciel stood quietly, eyes turned upward toward the canopy, her symbol slowly dimming on the back of Alex's hand now that she had a physical form again. She smiled softly, as if already missing the light of these trees.
And then—
"Leaving so soon?"
Vira's voice echoed across the terrace.
They turned.
She approached with her usual confidence — but her steps were a little slower, more deliberate. The emerald and gold robe she wore shimmered like living sunlight, and the ring Alex had made glowed faintly on her left hand.
Alex gave a faint nod.
"We've stayed long enough. There's still work to do back home."
Vira stopped just a few steps from him.
"I'd go with you," she said, eyes sincere. "But…"
"Politics," Morgan muttered.
"Obligations," Vira corrected, smirking.
She looked at Alex.
"The nobles are stirring. My mother's letting me lead some of the reform talks. It's… complicated."
"When isn't it?" Alex said dryly.
"Still," Vira added, a small smile curling at her lips, "I'll visit often. You are mine now, after all."
Morgan rolled her eyes.
But Ciel stepped forward and gently wrapped her arms around Vira.
It wasn't a brief hug.
It was a warm, lasting one — as if between two women who had truly come to understand each other.
"See you again, little sister," Ciel whispered.
Vira blinked.
Then smiled — a rare, soft kind of smile.
"See you again… big sister."
Even Morgan looked a little taken aback.
Alex chuckled softly.
"You're getting used to this fast."
Vira raised her chin.
"I intend to win."
"Win what?"
"Everything."
They laughed.
And as the gate finished stabilizing, Alex looked back at Vira one last time — and she nodded silently, golden eyes gleaming.
The gate flared.
The three of them stepped through.
And Alfheim — for now — faded behind.
Chapter 235 – The Moment the Truth Dropped
The teleportation shimmer faded.
Alex, Ciel, and Morgan stepped out onto the polished stone floor of his home — the air familiar, the mana warm and steady. Sunlight poured through the high windows, and the scent of fresh tea drifted from the kitchen.
He barely had time to take a step before—
"Alex!"
Hanabi launched herself into him, arms wrapped around his waist, her twin buns bouncing with the momentum. Airi followed behind at a calmer pace, setting down her travel bag, though the faint smile on her lips betrayed her relief.
"You're back early," Airi said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Was the Elf Queen nicer this time?"
"Surprisingly," Alex muttered, gently prying Hanabi off as Morgan sighed behind him.
But before he could say more—
"Oh my~ it seems our young hero is finally home," came the rich, velvety voice of Queen Ileana Draculesti, seated on his couch with a glass of blood-wine in hand.
Mircella stood beside her, small arms folded, crimson eyes shining with curious anticipation.
"We heard something… interesting," Mircella said coolly. "About a certain wolf and a wedding trial."
Alex blinked.
"How long have you all been here?"
"Since morning," Ileana purred. "We sensed the disturbance from afar. And Mircella was quite insistent we come check on you."
"I wasn't worried," Mircella said flatly. "I just didn't want you to die without permission."
"Touching," Morgan mumbled.
Ciel moved past them, barefoot as always, her presence drawing all eyes as she calmly brought over a tray of tea.
"We have much to tell," she said. "Alex did something… unprecedented."
Alex sighed and sat down in the center of the room, his harem gathering around — Hanabi on the floor beside him, Airi seated cross-legged opposite, Morgan perched against the wall, and the two vampires lounging with elegant confidence.
He began to explain:
The court. The duel. The wolf. Fenrir. The ring.
Their eyes widened, gasps filled the room, and comments flew—
"You fought Fenrir?"
"The gods sent you?!"
"Wait—how did you reverse all that damage!?"
"What does her ring look like?"
"Did she seduce you? Tell me the details!"
But just as Alex was trying to calm the flood of questions, sipping his tea—
Ciel tilted her head and smiled gently.
"Also… Alex lost his first."
Silence.
The room stopped breathing.
Alex choked mid-sip.
"Ciel—!"
Too late.
Hanabi blinked, eyes wide.
Airi dropped her cup.
Mircella's smile vanished like sunlight behind clouds.
Queen Ileana's expression sharpened.
"Excuse me?" she said sweetly.
"What do you mean… lost his first?" Airi asked, eyes narrowing.
Morgan was already rubbing her temple.
Ciel simply sipped her tea.
"I meant exactly that."
All eyes turned to Alex.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
And finally muttered:
"It… just kind of happened."
Hanabi leaned in.
"Who?"
Mircella raised one eyebrow.
"When?"
Queen Ileana swirled her glass slowly, voice like velvet and knives.
"Where?"
Alex raised both hands.
"Can I at least explain—?"
"WHO WAS IT, ALEX?!" all five girls shouted at once.
And in that moment—
Alex realized that defeating Fenrir may not have been the hardest battle of his life.
Four hours later…
The sun had begun to set.
Warm amber light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the quiet living room.
Alex sat on the floor, back resting against the couch, his shoulders slumped as if he'd just survived a demon siege. His tea had gone cold. His voice was hoarse. His soul?
…Exhausted.
Across from him, the five women of his harem were seated in a semi-circle — calmer now, though the air still held a faint trace of residual tension like the smell of ozone after lightning.
Hanabi had her arms crossed, one cheek puffed in mild indignation as she sat curled up on the couch, knee pulled to her chest. She hadn't said anything in fifteen minutes, but kept glancing sideways at Alex like she was almost ready to forgive him.
Airi was brushing her hair in long, thoughtful strokes, her eyes downcast. She'd asked fewer questions than Hanabi, but her quiet sighs had done more damage than words ever could.
Morgan stood by the window, pretending not to listen, but every shift in her posture screamed jealousy restrained by pride.
Mircella, the vampire princess, was lying across a velvet chair, legs swinging lazily off the armrest, her crimson eyes half-lidded in boredom.
"Honestly, I expected this months ago," she said flatly. "He has a face that invites trouble."
Queen Ileana, ever composed, sipped elegantly from a fresh glass of bloodwine. Her gaze remained on Alex, unreadable, but there was no anger in her expression — only mild amusement.
"You did well, darling," she said at last. "For someone who didn't expect to be devoured by an elf."
Alex groaned.
"Could we not use that word?"
Hanabi finally spoke up, muttering under her breath:
"He could've just told us earlier…"
Airi added softly:
"We wouldn't have been this upset if you'd been honest."
"I didn't think it would matter this much," Alex said. "It just… happened."
"Everything 'just happens' around you," Morgan snapped. "You 'just happened' to fight a god. You 'just happened' to tame a wolf. And now you 'just happened' to lose your virginity?"
Alex looked like he was about to apologize again, but Ciel intervened gently.
"He didn't mean to hurt you."
She looked at each of them in turn — with warmth, with softness, with understanding.
"He's trying to make space in his heart for all of us. That's not easy. For him… or for us."
Hanabi sighed.
"I know."
Airi gave a tiny nod.
Mircella rolled her eyes.
Morgan muttered, "Don't think you're off the hook."
Queen Ileana, however, stood and stretched gracefully.
"Well," she said, setting down her glass, "I believe I'll return to the castle. This has been delightful, truly. Alex, dear… I'll expect a better story next time."
She glanced once at Ciel.
"And maybe next time… let me be the first to drop the bomb."
With that, she and Mircella vanished into shadow, the teleport glyph flickering in their wake.
A quiet settled over the room.
Alex sank deeper into the couch.
Hanabi finally whispered:
"…So, was she better than me?"
Alex groaned again.