Darius decided to stay for one more day.
Originally, he planned to leave as soon as he confirmed that Sion showed no side effects from taking the higher dosage suppressant. His duty had technically already been fulfilled. There was no fever, no dizziness, no worsening symptoms.
Everything seemed… stable.
But somehow, when morning came, the words I will leave today refused to leave his mouth.
So he stayed.
Sion found out soon enough.
Eiran, unfortunately, had never been good at hiding things.
"You should've seen Sir Darius these past days," Eiran said casually during breakfast. "He practically managed half the smallholding himself."
Darius nearly choked on his tea.
Then,
A slow, knowing smile curved on his lips.
"…I see."
It was the kind of smile that meant Sion was thinking several steps ahead of everyone else.
He turned toward Darius.
"Thank you," he said lightly.
Simple words...but his gaze lingered longer than necessary, sharp and calculating, as if reassessing something he had previously overlooked.
Darius awkwardly scratched his cheek.
"It was nothing."
Sion only hummed.
Nothing, he thought.
How interesting.
Darius suddenly felt like he had unknowingly stepped into a trap.
Time passed peacefully afterward.
Sion resumed light work around the house, gradually returning to his routines while Eiran carefully monitored his condition.
No fever returned.
No instability appeared.
The new suppressant truly seemed to have adjusted well to Sion's body.
By late afternoon, Sion sat outside beneath the shade with Eiran, leisurely drinking homemade herbal tea while reviewing small notes about crop rotations.
From where they sat, the backyard was clearly visible.
And in that backyard,
Darius was splitting firewood.
Each swing of the axe was precise and controlled, muscles tightening beneath sweat-dampened clothes before the wood cracked cleanly apart.
Sion took a slow sip of tea.
"…You were right."
Eiran glanced at him. "About what?"
"Sir Darius," Sion replied casually. "He *is* quite useful."
Eiran chuckled. " I Told you."
Sion rested his chin against his hand, watching absentmindedly.
"I was genuinely concerned when my heat approached," he added.
Eiran immediately straightened, surprised.
"You were worried about me?"
Sion blinked innocently.
"No."
A beat passed.
"I was worried about the smallholding."
Eiran stared at him.
Sion paused… then waved his hand dismissively.
"…I'm joking."
His eyes drifted again toward Darius.
The rhythmic motion.
The quiet diligence.
The complete lack of awareness that he was being observed.
Sion smiled faintly.
"I suppose," he murmured, "he proves useful in unexpectedly wonderful ways."
Eiran followed his gaze,and immediately noticed the subtle glint in Sion's eyes.
Darius stood in the backyard, sleeves rolled up, uniform loosened from the heat. Sweat traced along his neck as he lifted the axe again, muscles moving naturally with each practiced swing.
"…I just hope he continues being useful then," Eiran said dryly.
Sion didn't respond.
He was too busy staring.
Eiran leaned closer.
"…Young master."
"Yes?"
"You're drooling."
Sion blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You've been staring at him chopping wood for five minutes," Eiran continued mercilessly. "Half-naked, by the way."
Sion calmly took another sip of tea.
"I am appreciating free labor."
"Sure."
At that moment, Darius looked up,and noticed them watching.
He immediately straightened and gave a shy, respectful bow despite holding an axe.
Sion lifted his hand lazily in acknowledgment, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Adorable, he thought.
Completely defenseless.
That evening, sleep refused to come.
Sion lay in bed staring at the ceiling before finally sighing and sitting up.
The night air called to him.
He gathered a picnic mat, a small lantern, and leftover snacks before heading outside toward the open field behind the house.
The sky stretched endlessly above,dark velvet scattered with stars.
But he wasn't alone.
Metal sliced through air nearby.
Darius stood beneath moonlight, practicing sword forms, movements steady despite visible fatigue.
Sion approached quietly.
"Can't sleep?"
Darius halted immediately.
"Sion."
He nodded. "Yes… I suppose not."
"And here I thought knights slept soundly after manual labor."
Darius gave a small embarrassed smile.
"…Do you also find sleep difficult?"
"Occasionally."
Sion spread the picnic mat across the grass and lay down without ceremony.
The stars reflected in his eyes.
"Come," he said, patting the space beside him. "Stargazing."
Darius froze.
"I.. cannot."
Sion tilted his head. "Oh?"
"I'm covered in sweat," Darius admitted awkwardly. "I would dirty the mat."
Sion studied him for a moment before smiling,slow and teasing.
"You helped cultivate my land, fed my chickens, chopped my firewood, and cooked for my household," he said. "And now you worry about a little sweat?"
Darius hesitated.
Sion's voice softened, but mischief lingered underneath.
"I invited you, Sir Darius."
A pause.
"…Or are you refusing your host?"
Darius immediately panicked. "No—I would never—"
"Then sit."
Defeated, Darius carefully removed his outer layer and settled stiffly at the edge of the mat, clearly unsure where to place his hands.
Sion glanced sideways at him.
Still formal.
Still cautious.
Still hopelessly sincere.
He chuckled quietly and leaned back, eyes returning to the stars.
"They're beautiful tonight," Sion murmured.
Darius followed his gaze.
"…Yes."
A peaceful silence settled between them,comfortable, unfamiliar, and dangerously easy.
And though neither acknowledged it aloud,
Neither wanted the night to end just yet.