The King's visit had shifted the very axis of Yrauos's world. The abstract concept of "the future" had been given form: land, a title, a purpose within the royal structure. As he continued his slow convalescence, his mind, ever strategic, began to map out this new territory. The King's gambit was clear, but within the constraints of that gambit, Yrauos saw immense opportunity.
He was sitting by the large window, watching the sparrows flit between the palace gardens, when Lyra sighed softly beside him. She was mending another of his tunics, her needle moving with practiced ease.
"It's funny," she murmured, more to herself than to him. "When we were in the Pit, the dream was just a roof and a full belly. Now… seeing all this…" She gestured vaguely at the opulent room. "It makes an old, silly dream feel a little closer."
Yrauos turned his head. "What dream?"
Lyra blushed, her fox ears twitching slightly in embarrassment. "It's nothing. Just a girl's fantasy."
"Tell me," he said, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
She put her sewing down, a wistful look in her red eyes. "I… I always thought it would be wonderful to have a place. Not just a home, but a… a haven. An inn, maybe. Somewhere warm, with a big hearth and the smell of good stew. A place where anyone, anyone at all—human, elf, beast-kin, even a lost succubus—could come in from the cold and find a hot meal and a safe bed. No questions asked. No prejudice." She smiled, a little sadly. "I told you it was silly. An inn run by a former Pit slave."
Yrauos looked at her, truly looked at her. He saw not the tsundere girl with a sharp tongue, but the kind-hearted, motherly soul whose greatest ambition was to create the safety for others that she had never known. It was a noble goal. A peaceful goal. It aligned perfectly with the oath they had both sworn.
"It is not silly," he stated, his voice absolute. He then turned his gaze to Miriel, who was trying (and failing) to quietly arrange a bouquet of stolen flowers from the royal gardens. She was pouting, feeling left out of the serious conversation. "And you, Miriel. What do you want?"
Miriel jumped, nearly dropping the flowers. "Me? I want to be with you and Lyra-nee forever! And… and I want a garden! A big, dark, beautiful garden with weird glowing flowers and soft moss and places to hide! A garden just for us!" she declared, her perverted nature adding, "Where we can… play without anyone watching!"
Lyra rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a fond smile.
Yrauos nodded slowly, a plan crystallizing in his mind with perfect clarity. The King had given him land. It was a resource. And the best way to secure a future was to build it with his own hands, for his own people.
"The land the King gifted us," Yrauos began, drawing both of their attentions. "The mountain and the hills. It borders the deep forest. It is defensible, with access to resources and secluded from prying eyes."
He looked at Lyra. "We will build your inn there. Not a small one. A large, fortified lodge. It will be the heart of our territory. A haven, just as you dreamed. It will be yours to manage, to shape. It will be our public face and our private sanctuary."
Lyra's breath hitched. Her eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. "Yrauos… you can't be serious. That land… it's for a lord's manor, for—"
"It is for what I say it is for," he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "And it will be called The Crimson Hearth." A name that acknowledged their painful past while promising the warmth of a new future.
A sob of pure, unadulterated joy escaped Lyra's lips. She launched herself at him, burying her face in his shoulder, her body trembling. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."
He held her for a moment, then gently extricated himself and turned to Miriel, who was watching with wide, hopeful, and slightly envious eyes.
"And for you, Miriel," Yrauos said. "Behind the lodge, carved into the mountain itself and protected by the forest, we will have our private residence. And there, you will have your garden. Not a small plot. A vast, enclosed grotto. You may fill it with every strange, beautiful, and dark plant you desire. It will be your domain, a place where your demonic Essence can flourish without restraint. Our secret place."
Miriel's reaction was instantaneous and explosive. She let out a squeal of delight that was probably heard by the guards downstairs. She danced around the room, her tail whipping back and forth. "My own garden! A secret garden for Master and Lyra-nee and me! I'll make it the most beautiful, most perverted paradise in the whole world!" She rushed over and hugged his legs tightly. "Thank you, Master! I'll be the best concubine-gardener ever! I love you!"
In that moment, surrounded by their overwhelming gratitude and love, Yrauos felt a strange, unfamiliar warmth in his chest. This was not the cold satisfaction of a mission accomplished. This was different. This was the feeling of building something, not destroying it. He was using his power, his resources, not for personal gain alone, but to manifest the dreams of the people he cared for.
He had accepted the King's duty to protect a princess. But his true mission, his Oath, was to protect and build this—this family, this haven, this future.
The System, ever perceptive, chimed softly in his mind.
[Hidden Objective Completed: 'The Architect of Dreams']
[Description: Use your power and resources to materially further the core desires of your bonded companions.]
[Reward: 2000 EP. Strengthened Emotional Bonds. Unlock: Blueprint Function for 'The Crimson Hearth' and 'Secret Grotto'.]
A flood of architectural knowledge and design principles flowed into his mind. He could now see it—the sturdy timber and stone lodge with its great hall and massive fireplace, and the hidden, magically-warded grotto behind a waterfall of its own, filled with bioluminescent flora and sheltered alcoves.
He looked at Lyra, now excitedly sketching a rough floorplan on a piece of parchment, and at Miriel, who was already listing off imaginary, fantastical plants for her garden.
The path to peace was not a solitary road. It was a place you built, stone by stone, dream by dream. And he had just laid the first, most important foundation.