The following morning.
The gentle golden light of morning filtered through the high stained-glass windows of the study, illuminating the lingering dust motes floating in the warm air. Sora stirred under the heavy fur blanket, his eyelids fluttering open slowly.
For the first time in three agonizing years, the hollow, bone-deep ache in his chest was completely gone. His spirit core felt whole, steady, and thoroughly saturated with a deep, comforting dark mana that pulsed in a slow, peaceful rhythm through his veins.
He sat up slowly, the blanket slipping down to his waist as his strength had returned—not just a fraction of it, but the full, vibrant vitality of a Moonborn elf.
Then, the vivid memories of the previous night came rushing back in a single, overwhelming wave.
The desperate crying. The way he had clung to Lucien's legs. The helpless, feverish whimpers. The quiet, intense intimacy of the dark mana transfer while Lucien held his fragile frame with unyielding, agonizing gentleness.
Suddenly.
A deep, violent crimson flush exploded across Sora's face, spreading instantly to the very tips of his pointed ears. He buried his face in both hands, letting out a long, muffled groan of absolute mortification.
"Oh, ancestors..." Sora whispered into his palms, his voice trembling with sheer embarrassment.
"What did I do...?"
"You survived," a deep, quiet voice answered from the far side of the room.
Sora flinched, snapping his head up.
Lucien was sitting at his heavy mahogany desk, fully dressed in his high-collared dark tunic, reviewing a stack of estate documents. He looked entirely calm, though the faint dark circles under his eyes betrayed the fact that he hadn't slept a single second all night.
Sora pulled the fur blanket up to his chin, his face burning hotter than the hearth. "Sir Arden... I–... about last night..."
"Your spirit core was on the verge of collapsing," Lucien interrupted calmly, setting his quill down on the desk. He stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the rug as he walked over to the sofa.
"Seemingly the Moonborn resonance required more than just a palm transfer. It yearned for deep, physical link to process the dark mana. There is nothing to apologize for."
"Still... I behaved like a–... I lost all control."
"You trying to survive, little elf," Lucien said, his tone softening just a fraction as he stopped beside the sofa.
"Anyway you only did what your spirit needed to do to survive. I hold no judgment against you. And neither would Cassian, if anything he'd want me to take care of you."
At the mention of Cassian's name, Sora let out a soft, relieved breath, his shoulders finally dropping. He looked up into Lucien's sharp, silver eyes, seeing no disgust or mockery—only the steady, unwavering resolve of the Holy Knight who had sworn to protect everything his lover cared about.
"In that case then I should only thank you, Sir Arden,"
Sora said quietly, sincerity lacing his voice.
"For saving my life."
Lucien simply nodded once, offering no dramatic words.
"Anyway, the kitchen staff has prepared a warm meal. Rest for the remainder of the morning. Your son has been asking for you since dawn."
Just as Lucien turned to walk toward the door, Sora let out a small, hesitant cough.
"W-wait... Sir Arden."
Lucien paused, looking back over his shoulder.
"Yes?"
Sora looked at him with a slight, mischievous glint returning to his eyes despite his flushed cheeks.
"Did you... truly mean what you said last night?"
Lucien tilted his head slightly.."About what?"
"'Just don't fall pregnant, we have plenty of children to raise.'" Sora quoted, biting back a soft chuckle and Lucien stiffened instantly, then he cleared his throat loudly, turning away toward the door with rigid, formal posture.
"Just go eat your breakfast before I throw you out of my castle."
Sora only laughed even louder.
*****