Three hours earlier, at dawn.

A maid's panicked scream erupted from outside.

Two unconscious knights were sprawled at the front entrance of the wing, and she was shouting,

"Please stop right there! You have no right to enter without permission! My lady isn't here— aahh! She left and hasn't returned yet!"

A hand clamped around the maid's throat. The man tightened his grip, and the poor girl fought for air.

Cyn's voice slid into her ears, amused:

"Oh? She leaves without telling me now?"

He tossed the maid to the ground, almost stomping on her chest—

until the sound of a nearby door opening stopped him.

A sharp, furious voice hurled curses straight at his face:

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Are you insane?!"

He recognized the voice instantly.

Smirking down at the maid, he said,

"See? A little screaming brought her back from her errand."

With a sideways glance, Cyn looked toward the source of the voice—

Xyrene, fuming with anger and indignation.

She marched toward him to grab his hand and drag him inside,

but he pulled away, straightened his hair, and glanced at the external mirror hanging beside the door.

He dressed as he used to in his old world—

a black John Varvatos leather jacket,

a white shirt underneath with the top buttons undone,

his long hair slicked back in a style like a Dream Flow haircut.

Black leather boots, dark tailored trousers—everything clean and perfectly coordinated.

He didn't even look at Xyrene, who was seething at what he'd just done.

He only admired his reflection.

He looked… handsome.

He murmured to himself, "Alright then."

Then he snapped back to reality and finally looked at the woman before him.

Xyrene stood there in all her beauty and allure—

her hair tied into a high ponytail, begging to be grabbed and yanked until strands snapped between your fingers;

her pretty face burning with anger.

Cyn mocked her lightly, as if trying to dig something out of her:

"Well, according to your maid, you're not supposed to be here.

Or maybe… you were just avoiding me?"

Her voice was cold, but sharp enough to cut:

"You really have no proper sense in that head of yours.

If I didn't want to meet you, I would simply make up an excuse,

and you would accept it— even if you knew I was here.

You'd pick up your things, walk away, and give me the peace I want."

Cyn gave a careless smile.

"Is that so?"

Xyrene had no idea how he managed to get the upper hand on her this early in the morning.

Wasn't he supposed to be bedridden?

And why… why did he come here of all places?

Cyn turned to leave, but Xyrene grabbed his arm from behind.

He looked down at her hand gripping him tightly and muttered to himself:

"Just a king's wife? My ass."

Xyrene forced herself to stay calm and spoke in a quiet tone,

"Why leave after causing all this noise? Didn't you come to see me?

Fine then— come inside and entertain me with whatever you came to say."

She led him in.

He followed, closing the door behind him.

He knew this room well—he'd been here many times.

The same soft scent… unchanged after all these years.

He found a cushioned chair and sat.

Xyrene raised a brow.

"Don't you prefer sitting on the bed?"

Cyn replied while reaching for something at his collar,

"I didn't come for that."

Xyrene gave him a silly smile.

"For what then?

Is sex the first thing you think about whenever you see a bed?

Is that why you came the previous times?"

Cyn gave her a dumb, mocking look.

"Some of them— maybe most of them. Yeah."

She exhaled sharply.

She couldn't figure him out.

"So why are you here then?"

His dark eyes focused on her.

"You don't look well. Especially after seeing me again—

even though we haven't met for days.

You didn't even visit me."

Her tone turned cool.

"Oh? Was I supposed to?"

He didn't answer.

He knew she was poking at his pride, trying to weaken his stance—

but she didn't stop there.

"Are you a baby?

Should I visit you and feed you as well?

Are you longing for a mother's warmth?

Perhaps she died long ago while being violated by the mercenaries and soldiers who ravaged your lands…

and now you blame someone else—

seeking tenderness from a stranger

instead of standing up on your own and finding a path to avenge what happened to you."

Cyn smiled.

Her words tried to cut him,

tried to provoke him.

But he only smiled.

Xyrene approached him, placed her cold hand on his cheek.

He felt the chill seeping into him.

Looking up into her eyes, he sensed her sudden shift.

"Cyn… please.

I'm sorry I wasn't there.

Everything happened too fast.

I couldn't do anything."

She lifted her skirt.

Her white thighs and soft curves like milk, her tender flesh.

She climbed onto his lap, sitting on him.

Her hands slid across his chest as she opened the remaining buttons,

fingers touching his bare skin.

They both felt the contrast—

she was cold, he was warm.

But soon the balance shifted;

she began to feel warmth radiating from his body,

and he felt the cold lingering from her.

She kissed his chest, biting lightly,

her lips and saliva trailing up his neck.

Soft moans escaped her—

"mmNh~… mmmm…"

Her voice could open heaven itself,

the kind that could make any man lose control.

She rested her head against his left side,

as if listening to his heartbeat.

"Mmmmnh,You smell soo good! Annn~nh"

Cyn felt her weight on him,

yet she was light—like a wife resting on her husband's chest,

seeking safety and offering warmth.

But Cyn didn't care for that kind of intimacy.

This was the perfect moment to strike while the iron was hot.

His voice turned cold.

"I helped you divert the Church and Temple's attention.

Their eyes and ears in the palace have dwindled,

and they've stopped focusing on you.

I need the other key."

Xyrene's tone cracked sharply, hurt.

"Can't you at least let us enjoy this moment?"

He grabbed her by the hips,

his fingers sinking into her soft flesh.

Lifting her while she clung to him,

he placed her on the massive bed.

Leaning close, he exhaled warm breath over her lips

before claiming them in a fierce kiss.

She reacted even more passionately than he expected—

as if she had longed for this desperately.

When he pulled away,

tears glimmered in her eyes.

She touched her right cheek,

smiling softly as she whispered:

"Mmh… Cyn… my handsome, cold, charming, nonchalant, pretty big boy…

I adore you more than any love I've ever felt in my life—

more than a mother could ever love her child without conditions.

And I would do anything to keep this bond between us.

I'd fight the world just to make sure we stay together forever.

My Jules…

You have no idea what I've done,

or what I'm willing to do…

just for you~~~"

What followed were cries and moans—

two bodies moving like beasts in mating season.

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