In the quiet of his office, Markus leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as his thoughts circled. 'This elf girl… she seems close to the boy. If I can get close to her, then allying with him may be easier.' His gaze lingered on how Racheal still held Leon against her, steady and careful, with no trace of annoyance or discomfort. That kind of closeness wasn't born overnight. Only those with deep ties could carry another like that.

'And then there was her introduction. She had given her name, and his in the same breath. She is telling me something. That she stands with him. That they are tied together. It confirms what I already see.'

Markus leaned forward, voice smoothing with practiced ease. "I am sorry for how you may have been treated. But I hope you understand, it was a needed measure although excessive. Your friend is… a very important person."

Racheal's lips parted, but no clear answer came. She couldn't argue, not here, not while she was surrounded in the lion's den. In the end, she nodded lightly and said, "Thank you."

"Good," Markus replied, his smile faint but measured.

Her arms shifted around Leon's unconscious frame, her voice lowering. "As you can see, my friend is not in good condition. He needs a proper place to rest."

"You're right," Markus answered with ease, hiding the calculations running beneath his calm exterior. "I'll see to it that you both receive proper accommodations."

Racheal let out a small breath. "Thank you."

At that moment, two soldiers appeared soundlessly in the office, their armor glinting under the faint glow of the enchantments. Without a word, they saluted and stepped forward, ready to escort. Racheal adjusted Leon on her back and followed as the guards led her through the corridors, her figure soon disappearing from sight.

The door clicked shut. Silence filled the office.

Markus steepled his hands in front of him, his composure steady, though his mind was already racing. "I need to report this to the Emperor."

Even as the words left him, a strip of parchment materialized on his desk. He wasted no time. Dipping the quill, his hand moved quickly, lines of a detailed report spilling across the paper. When he finished, he folded it with precise care.

A soft shimmer of light sparked on the desk, and a pigeon, its feathers laced with faint runes, materialized. Markus leaned close, whispering into its ear, "Take this to the Emperor."

The pigeon seized the folded report in its beak, leapt from the desk, and vanished into nothingness.

Alone once more, Markus turned his eyes toward the window, the faint light of the night stars filtering in. "The stars," he murmured, a rare note of anticipation in his voice, "are shining in favor of our Empire."

****

The guards led Racheal and Leon down a winding corridor, their boots striking the marble floor with military precision. When they stopped, it wasn't in front of a standard barracks room, but something entirely different. The heavy oak doors opened, and the guards bowed low before retreating without a word, leaving the elf girl and the unconscious boy to the silence within.

The room was far from anything a common soldier could claim. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals catching the warm glow of enchanted candles. A private washroom stood behind a carved archway, faint wisps of steam escaping its threshold. In the center of the chamber rested a queen-sized bed, sheets of white silk tucked neatly into place, too fine and too deliberate for anything but honored guests.

Racheal wasted no time admiring it. She carried Leon to the bed and gently laid him down, her hands lingering on his arm as her eyes searched his face. "How bad were your injuries," she whispered, her voice tight with worry, "for you to still be unconscious after all this time?"

She remained there for a while, kneeling at the bedside, gaze softening as she traced the line of his jaw with her eyes. Her expression carried both admiration and concern, emotions she didn't try to mask. At last, she leaned closer and murmured, "Please… get well soon."

But then something caught her attention. A faint scent, herself. The realization struck instantly, and heat rushed to her cheeks. 'That's right… I haven't washed all day.' Normally, it wouldn't matter. A trial taker's constitution was far superior to ordinary folk; they could endure long stretches without it. But Pandora was different. Its days stretched far longer, equal to months back on Yggdrasil. Not bathing here for one day was the same as neglecting it for weeks.

Her embarrassment deepened. Without hesitation, she quickly undressed, slipping out of her dusty combat attire, and darted toward the washroom. The sound of rushing water soon filled the room.

Meanwhile, on the bed, Leon's eyes remained closed, his body unmoving. Yet his mind stirred faintly, awareness drifting in and out like waves. 'This… is going to be awkward,' he thought, half-buried under the fog of exhaustion.

****

Leon had been conscious for a while now, well, not since the fight with Lancelot, but ever since the night had fully descended and his void spawn blood worked its quiet miracle, knitting every injury closed. By the time his mind stirred, he was already slung across Racheal's back, her steady steps carrying him toward the headquarters.

He could have ended it there. He could have opened his eyes, slid down, and walked on his own. It would've been better for his image, because being carried like a helpless child wasn't exactly how he wanted to be seen. His pride mattered, especially in a world where strength defined everything.

But he didn't.

Instead, he let himself stay limp, feigning unconsciousness. A choice, yes, but one that came with its perks. His new race, coupled with his perfect control over his body, made it nearly impossible for anyone to detect he was faking. Not even a rank seven lieutenant could tell. And when Lancelot ended up getting reprimanded, Leon almost grinned inwardly. For once, playing dead had worked in his favor.

But now, things were different. He was no longer outside. He was no longer being hauled through the corridors. He was lying on a silk-sheeted bed, in a room meant for honored guests. And the one person he didn't want to fool any longer, Racheal was here with him.

Leon's thoughts twisted uncomfortably. 'I can't just keep pretending forever. Sooner or later, she'll notice. Better to wake up now, act natural and say I just came to…'

He had just decided to stir, to let out a groggy noise and flutter his eyes open, when the sound of rushing water stopped.

The washroom door eased open, and Racheal stepped out, steam curling around her like a veil. Her skin glistened faintly with droplets, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders. She looked refreshed, yet vulnerable in a way Leon hadn't seen before.

Leon froze. His plan crumbled instantly.

...This is going to be ten times harder to explain now.'

****

A/N: Thank You for reading (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

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