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Black.

His heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed hard, his gaze slowly drifting up to meet her eyes.

Lira’s dark eyes were looking up at him, wide and glistening with something he couldn’t quite read. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted, and she didn’t pull away. If anything, she seemed to lean in closer, her expression filled with vulnerability.

Mikhailis’s mouth went dry, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the situation. How was Lira here? And—more importantly—why was she in his bed?

Rodion’s voice, as always, chose the most inopportune time to chime in.

<I believe this qualifies as an unexpected development, Mikhailis.>

He ignored Rodion, his attention completely on Lira. He could feel the warmth of her hand in his, the closeness of her body, her breath soft against his skin. There was an intimacy in the moment that made his chest tighten.

"L-Lira?" he stammered, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

Lira didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The look in her eyes spoke louder than words—filled with yearning, longing, and something else that made his heart pound even harder.

She leaned closer, her face now just inches from his, her eyes never leaving his. Her hand moved, her fingers brushing against his cheek, and Mikhailis found himself unable to move, unable to think. He could only stare at her, his breath caught in his throat.

"Your Highness..." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, her gaze flickering down to his lips.

Mikhailis felt his pulse quicken, his heart pounding in his chest as the realization of what was happening hit him fully.

He had a choice to make.

But before he could even gather his thoughts, before he could figure out what to say, what to do, Lira’s hand cupped his cheek, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against his.

The kiss was soft, gentle, almost hesitant. Mikhailis felt the warmth of her lips, the trembling of her body as she kissed him, and for a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He couldn’t deny the feeling—the rush of warmth that spread through him, the strange comfort that came with her touch.

Lira’s lips pressed softly against Mikhailis’s, the touch light and hesitant at first, but enough to send a jolt through him. He couldn’t help but feel the warmth radiating from her body as she leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his cheek, her breath hot and fast. Before he could think, his arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

The sweetness of her lips was intoxicating, and he felt himself sinking into the moment. Her hand, soft yet insistent, moved to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss grew more urgent. Mikhailis could feel the heat between them building, the boundaries of restraint blurring as they pressed against one another.

Lira’s body trembled slightly in his arms, her skin warm under his touch as she shifted even closer, her legs brushing against his. Her hand slid down his chest, fingers tracing the muscles beneath his shirt. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, and Mikhailis’s body responded in kind, his breath growing heavier as the moment intensified.

Without thinking, his hand moved down her back, his fingers sliding over the curve of her waist, pulling her closer. She let out a soft gasp against his lips, her body pressing into his as her hand drifted lower, brushing against his stomach before boldly sliding down towards his crotch.

Mikhailis felt a shiver run down his spine as her fingers grazed him, sending a rush of heat through his body. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind spinning as the line between right and wrong blurred even further. Lira’s touch was hesitant at first, but it quickly became more confident, her fingers teasing the growing hardness beneath his clothes.

But just as the heat of the moment seemed to be reaching its peak, Lira’s movements slowed. Her breathing softened, and she let out a soft sigh before, to Mikhailis’s complete bewilderment, she relaxed against him and fell back asleep, her head resting on his chest.

Mikhailis blinked, the sudden shift catching him off guard. His body was still reacting to the intimacy of the moment, his breath shallow, his mind in a haze. He could still feel the warmth of her hand against him, the imprint of her lips lingering on his.

<You did mention something about being faithful, didn’t you?>

Rodion’s voice cut through the fog in his mind, dripping with sarcasm.

The words hit Mikhailis like a bucket of cold water. He froze, his eyes widening as the weight of the situation crashed down on him. His heart, still racing from the moment, seemed to skip a beat as reality set in.

He looked down at Lira, who was now peacefully sleeping in his arms, oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside him. His body, which had been thoroughly enjoying the warmth and closeness, now felt conflicted. He could feel the arousal fading, the growing hardness in his pants shrinking back to a more, well, manageable size.

Mikhailis’s hand slid away from her waist, guilt creeping into his chest as he let out a shaky breath.

"Rodion..." he whispered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, "what the hell just happened?"

<I could summarize it, but you seem like you need the reminder. Shall I review your last few hours?>

Mikhailis groaned, rubbing his temples. His mind was still reeling from what had just happened, and the last thing he needed was a lecture from Rodion. But the AI pressed on.

<In short: you returned to the castle after yesterday’s battle, spent time with Queen Elowen—yes, including some quality time of intense night intercourse—then this morning, you asked Lira to bring you wine for breakfast. The next thing I knew, you were engaged in, shall we say, less than appropriate behavior. Especially behind your provising wife.>

Mikhailis’s heart sank further. His mind flashed back to Elowen, her regal figure, her confident smile, her fierce grace in battle. She had trusted him, and here he was, in bed with Lira, his wife nowhere in sight.

Mikhailis’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping.

"What? No, no, no, that can’t be right!" he hissed, glancing down at Lira. "You mean... we..."

<Yes. Precisely what a ’scum’ would do—relying on the hospitality of a queen and then indulging with her maid while she’s off providing for you. Quite the gentleman, wouldn’t you say?>

Mikhailis groaned, his hand covering his face, his fingers digging into his scalp.

"What the fuck have I done?" he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and horror.

He carefully shifted, trying not to wake Lira as he moved out from under her. He stood up, his legs feeling shaky, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He ran both hands through his hair, tugging at the strands as if that would somehow bring him back to reality.

"What the fuck have I done?" he repeated, his voice louder this time, filled with anguish.

Rodion’s voice remained calm, almost detached, but there was a hint of satisfaction there—a kind of "I told you so" lurking beneath the surface.

<Indeed, Mikhailis. It seems you have quite the predicament on your hands. Might I suggest damage control before this situation spirals further beyond your already impressive abilities to manage?>

Mikhailis stared at the sleeping figure on his bed, then back at the empty room, his heart pounding with panic.

Damage control. Yes, damage control. But how?

How was he going to fix this?