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Leona had faced many dangerous things in his life. Sandstorms that could flay skin from bone. Rival princes with too much ambition and too little sense. Magical beasts with jaws strong enough to crush stone. None of them unnerved him. None of them made him hesitate. None of them made him feel the faint, prickling awareness crawling up the back of his neck the way Lilia Vanrouge did when he appeared silently behind him in the hallway.
Leona didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. The air itself shifted when Lilia was near. Lighter, colder, threaded with a kind of ancient amusement that felt like a blade hidden behind a fan. Leona kept walking, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. He wasn’t going to give Lilia the satisfaction of reacting.
“Going somewhere, Leona?” Lilia asked, voice bright and pleasant, as if they were old friends meeting for tea.
Leona didn’t slow his pace. “Away from you.”
Lilia floated forward effortlessly, matching his stride without touching the ground. “Oh, don’t be like that. I only wish to talk.”
“That’s what you said last time,” Leona muttered. “Right before you threatened to rearrange my bones.”
Lilia laughed softly. “I never said I would rearrange them. I simply implied that I could.”
Leona shot him a sideways glance. “You’re not helping your case.”
Lilia’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not trying to.”
They walked in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Students passing by instinctively pressed themselves against the walls, sensing something dangerous in the air. Leona ignored them. Lilia didn’t even seem to notice.
Finally, Lilia spoke again, voice deceptively light. “You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Malleus.”
Leona shrugged. “He keeps showing up.”
“And you keep letting him,” Lilia replied.
Leona didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The truth hung between them, unspoken but obvious.
Lilia drifted closer, his tone softening in a way that somehow made it more threatening. “You understand, of course, that Malleus is… inexperienced with certain emotions.”
Leona snorted. “You mean he’s a disaster.”
Lilia chuckled. “A charming disaster. But yes.”
Leona stopped walking. Lilia hovered a few inches above the ground, turning to face him fully. For a moment, neither spoke. The hallway was empty, quiet, the air still.
Leona crossed his arms. “If you’re here to warn me again, save your breath. I already told you. I’m not playing with him.”
Lilia’s expression softened, but only slightly. “I know. If I thought you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d simply be gone.”
Leona raised an eyebrow. “Comforting.”
“Oh, I’m full of comfort,” Lilia said with a smile that was anything but comforting.
Leona exhaled slowly, trying not to let the tension show. “So what do you want.”
Lilia floated closer, lowering his voice. “I want to know what you feel.”
Leona stiffened. “That’s none of your business.”
“Everything involving Malleus is my business,” Lilia replied gently. “He is precious to me. To all of us. And he is… opening himself to you.”
Leona looked away, jaw tightening. “I didn’t ask him to.”
“No,” Lilia said. “But he did anyway.”
The words hit harder than Leona expected. He didn’t respond. He didn’t trust himself to.
Lilia watched him carefully, ancient eyes sharp and knowing. “You care for him.”
Leona didn’t deny it. He didn’t confirm it either. But the silence was enough.
Lilia’s smile softened, truly softened, for the first time. “Good.”
Leona blinked. “Good?”
“Yes,” Lilia said. “Because he cares for you too.”
Leona’s heart stuttered, just once, just enough for Lilia to notice.
And Lilia’s smile turned mischievous again. “Oh dear. Did I surprise you?”
Leona scowled. “Don’t push it.”
Lilia floated backward, hands behind his back, looking entirely too pleased. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He absolutely would. He absolutely was. And Leona knew it. But for the first time, the cold war between them felt less like a threat and more like a test. One Leona wasn’t planning on failing.
Leona had a plan. A simple one. A reasonable one. Find Malleus. Talk to him. Maybe even get a moment alone without Sebek screaming or Lilia hovering like a cheerful executioner. It should have been easy. Except nothing involving Malleus Draconia was ever easy.
Leona found him in the courtyard, standing beneath a flowering tree, the petals drifting around him like falling stars. Malleus looked peaceful, almost serene, and for a moment Leona forgot how to breathe. He approached slowly, hands in his pockets, trying to look casual despite the way his pulse kicked up when Malleus turned toward him with that soft, startled expression.
“Leona,” Malleus said, voice warm in a way that made something twist in Leona’s chest. “I did not expect to see you here.”
“Figured I’d stop by,” Leona replied, trying to sound bored. “You looked like you had something on your mind.”
Malleus hesitated, eyes flickering downward. “I… did.”
Leona stepped closer. “Wanna talk about it.”
Malleus’s breath caught. “Perhaps I-”
“HELLO, CHILDREN.”
Leona nearly jumped out of his skin. Lilia descended from the sky like a smug, dual‑haired omen of doom, landing between them with a smile so bright it could have powered the entire campus. Malleus blinked in surprise. Leona clenched his jaw.
Lilia clasped his hands behind his back. “Fancy seeing you two here. Together. Alone. How interesting.”
Leona glared. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what?” Lilia asked innocently.
“Interrupting.”
“I would never,” Lilia said, floating a little higher. “I’m simply enjoying the weather.”
Malleus looked between them, confused. “Lilia, is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” Lilia chirped. “I’m just here to supervise.”
Leona’s eye twitched. “Supervise what?”
“Whatever this is,” Lilia said, gesturing vaguely at the space between them. “It seems delicate.”
Malleus flushed faintly. Leona felt his stomach drop.
“Lilia,” Malleus said gently, “I was speaking with Leona.”
“Oh, I know,” Lilia replied. “I heard every word.”
“You were spying,” Leona snapped.
“I was supervising,” Lilia corrected.
“That’s the same thing.”
“Not when I do it.”
Leona took a slow breath, trying to keep his temper in check. “Can you give us a minute?”
Lilia gasped dramatically. “A minute. Alone. With my precious Malleus.”
Malleus sighed. “Lilia..”
“I’m only thinking of your safety,” Lilia insisted. “What if Leona says something emotionally devastating? Or worse, something romantic.”
Malleus nearly choked. Leona’s ears burned.
“I’m not gonna do anything,” Leona growled.
“That’s what worries me,” Lilia said sweetly.
Malleus pressed a hand to his forehead. “Lilia, please. I would like to speak with Leona privately.”
Lilia blinked, surprised. “Privately.”
“Yes.”
Lilia floated in a slow circle around them, studying the way Malleus’s magic pulsed softly, the way Leona stood a little too close, the way both of them looked like they were trying very hard not to stare at each other.
“Oh dear,” Lilia murmured. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“Lilia,” Malleus warned.
Lilia sighed dramatically. “Very well. I will leave you two alone.”
Leona exhaled in relief. Lilia smiled. Leona’s relief vanished.
“But,” Lilia added, “I will be within screaming distance.”
“No,” Leona said immediately.
“Yes,” Lilia said cheerfully.
Malleus looked mortified. “Lilia!”
“Good luck, you two,” Lilia sang, drifting upward. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Leona muttered.
Lilia winked. “Exactly.”
And with that, he vanished into the sky, leaving behind a faint trail of sparkles and a level of chaos only he could create.
Leona ran a hand down his face. “I swear he’s doing this on purpose.”
Malleus looked at him, cheeks warm, magic flickering softly. “He is.”
Leona met his eyes. And suddenly, without Lilia between them, the air felt different. Warmer. Closer. Charged.
Malleus swallowed. “Where… were we.”
Leona stepped closer, voice low. “Right where we left off.”
Lilia had promised to give them space. He had not promised to give them privacy.
From his vantage point high in the branches of a nearby tree, he watched Malleus and Leona with the intensity of a hawk and the enthusiasm of a parent watching their child’s first school play. He was perfectly still, perfectly silent, perfectly hidden, at least in his own mind. In reality, the leaves around him rustled every time he shifted, and the faint shimmer of his magic glowed like a neon sign saying I’m spying.
Below him, Malleus and Leona stood close enough that their shadows nearly touched. Malleus’s magic pulsed softly, warm and unsteady, while Leona leaned in with that lazy confidence that made Lilia’s protective instincts twitch. They were speaking quietly, voices low, the kind of conversation that carried weight even without words.
Lilia narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t worried.. Well, not exactly. He trusted Malleus completely. He trusted Leona… conditionally. But he also knew how fragile new feelings could be, how easily misunderstandings could bloom into hurt. And Malleus, for all his power, was still learning how to navigate emotions that had never touched him before.
So Lilia watched. And listened. And absolutely did not interfere. At least, that was the plan.
Leona stepped a little closer, voice dropping into something warm and steady. “You don’t have to figure everything out today.”
Malleus’s breath caught. “It feels… overwhelming.”
“That’s normal,” Leona said. “You’re not alone in it.”
Lilia’s wings fluttered in excitement. He clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from making a sound, but the branch beneath him creaked loudly. Both Malleus and Leona froze.
Leona’s ears twitched. “Did you hear that.”
Malleus frowned, glancing around. “It sounded like..”
Another creak. A rustle. A muffled curse in ancient fae.
Leona’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, for-!”
He strode toward the tree, and Lilia panicked. He tried to shift higher into the branches, but his foot slipped on a patch of moss. The entire tree shook. A shower of leaves rained down. And then, with all the grace of a falling pillow, Lilia tumbled out of the branches and landed on his feet in front of them.
He straightened instantly, brushing off his clothes. “Ah. Fancy meeting you two here.”
Leona stared at him. “You fell out of a tree.”
“I descended,” Lilia corrected.
“You screamed,” Leona added.
“I vocalized strategically.”
Malleus blinked, torn between concern and mortification. “Lilia… were you watching us.”
“Of course not,” Lilia said, far too quickly. “I was simply… enjoying nature.”
Leona crossed his arms. “In a tree directly above us.”
“Yes,” Lilia said. “The view is lovely.”
Malleus’s cheeks warmed. “Lilia…”
Lilia sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Fine. I was supervising.”
Leona groaned. “Again.”
“I supervise everything,” Lilia said. “It’s part of my charm.”
“It’s part of your paranoia,” Leona muttered.
Lilia ignored him. He floated closer to Malleus, inspecting him with a critical eye. “Are you alright, dear.”
Malleus nodded, though his magic flickered with embarrassment. “I was speaking with Leona.”
“Yes,” Lilia said. “I noticed.”
Leona scowled. “You don’t say.”
Lilia turned to him with a bright, innocent smile. “You were getting very close.”
“That’s the point,” Leona said.
Lilia’s smile sharpened. “I know.”
For a moment, the two locked eyes, Leona steady and unbothered, Lilia ancient and assessing. The air between them hummed with unspoken challenge.
Then Malleus stepped forward, breaking the tension. “Lilia… please. I appreciate your concern, but I wish to speak with Leona without interruption.”
Lilia blinked, surprised by the firmness in his voice. Then, slowly, he smiled, genuine this time, soft and proud. “Very well.”
He floated backward, giving them space again. “I’ll be nearby.”
Leona groaned. “Of course you will.”
Lilia winked. “Always.”
And with a swirl of magic, he vanished, this time actually leaving them alone.
Malleus exhaled, shoulders relaxing. “I apologize. He means well.”
Leona stepped closer, voice low. “I know.”
Malleus looked up at him, eyes bright. “Where… were we.”
Leona’s smile was slow, warm, and devastating. “Right here.”
Silver was sitting quietly in the Diasomnia lounge, polishing his sword with the calm focus of someone who had long accepted that chaos would eventually find him. He didn’t expect it to arrive in the form of Lilia Vanrouge bursting through the doorway with the energy of a delighted gremlin who had just discovered a new form of entertainment.
“Silver!” Lilia sang, floating dramatically into the room. “You will not believe what I’ve just witnessed.”
Silver blinked slowly. “Father… did you cause another incident.”
Lilia gasped. “Cause? Me? Never. I merely observed.”
Silver set his sword down. “That usually means you caused something.”
Lilia ignored the comment entirely, landing gracefully on the arm of the couch. His eyes sparkled with mischief, pride, and the kind of excitement that made Silver brace himself. “I have just returned from supervising Malleus and Leona.”
Silver closed his eyes for a moment. “Supervising… or spying.”
“Supervising,” Lilia repeated firmly, which meant spying.
Silver sighed. “And how did it go.”
“Oh, wonderfully,” Lilia said, kicking his legs like a child recounting a fairy tale. “They were standing very close. Very close. The kind of close that suggests emotional vulnerability and questionable decision‑making.”
Silver nodded slowly. “I see.”
“And,” Lilia continued, leaning forward conspiratorially, “Malleus was glowing.”
Silver blinked. “He always glows.”
“Not like this,” Lilia said, waving a hand. “This was the soft glow. The warm glow. The ‘I am experiencing feelings I do not understand and I might faint’ glow.”
Silver paused. “Ah.”
Lilia grinned. “Exactly.”
Silver picked up his sword again, polishing it with calm, steady strokes. “And Leona.”
“Oh, Leona,” Lilia said with a dramatic sigh. “He was trying so hard to look unaffected. But I saw it. The way he leaned in. The way he lowered his voice. The way he looked at Malleus like he was something precious.”
Silver raised an eyebrow. “Precious.”
“Yes,” Lilia said. “Precious. Like a rare artifact he wants to keep but is afraid to touch.”
Silver considered this. “That sounds… sincere.”
“It was,” Lilia said, sounding almost surprised. “Annoyingly sincere. I was hoping for a bit more chaos, but I suppose I can’t have everything.”
Silver gave him a flat look. “You fell out of a tree.”
Lilia waved a hand dismissively. “I descended with style.”
Silver sighed again, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So… they’re getting closer.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Lilia said. “It’s like watching a slow‑moving magical disaster. Beautiful, dangerous, and impossible to look away from.”
Silver nodded. “And you’re going to keep watching.”
“Of course,” Lilia said proudly. “I am Malleus’s guardian. It is my duty to ensure he is safe, supported, and gently nudged toward emotional growth.”
Silver stared at him. “You mean meddling.”
Lilia gasped. “Silver! How dare you. I would never meddle.”
“You are meddling right now.”
“I am guiding,” Lilia corrected.
Silver shook his head, resigned. “Just… don’t push too hard.”
Lilia’s expression softened, the mischief fading into something older, wiser, and deeply protective. “I won’t. I know when to step back.”
Silver blinked. “Do you.”
Lilia smiled. “Sometimes.”
Silver sighed. “That’s the best I can hope for.”
Lilia floated upward again, humming cheerfully. “Come, Silver. Let us prepare. I sense more developments on the horizon.”
Silver stood, sheathing his sword. “Should I be concerned.”
“Oh yes,” Lilia said brightly. “But it will be fun.”
Lilia had insisted he was “done interfering.” Silver did not believe him for a second. So when Lilia floated past him with the suspiciously innocent air of someone who was absolutely up to something, Silver followed. Quietly. Calmly. With the resigned patience of a man who had long accepted that his father figure was a walking disaster wrapped in a deceptively cute package.
They ended up perched on a balcony overlooking the courtyard, hidden behind a curtain of ivy. Below them, Malleus and Leona stood close, too close, talking in low voices that carried just enough to make Lilia lean forward like a child watching a puppet show.
Silver sighed. “Father… we should not be spying.”
“We are not spying,” Lilia whispered, eyes gleaming. “We are observing.”
“That is the same thing.”
“Not when I do it.”
Silver rubbed his forehead. “You say that about everything.”
“And I am always correct,” Lilia said, peeking through the leaves again.
Below them, Leona said something quiet, too quiet to hear, but whatever it was made Malleus’s magic pulse softly, warm and bright. Malleus stepped closer, expression open and flushed in a way Silver had rarely seen. Leona didn’t step back. He leaned in, steady and sure, like he was grounding Malleus rather than overwhelming him.
Lilia clutched Silver’s arm. “Oh my goodness. Did you see that.”
Silver blinked. “See what.”
“The way he looked at him,” Lilia whispered dramatically. “That was a look.”
Silver tilted his head. “A look.”
“A look,” Lilia repeated. “The kind that says ‘I am trying very hard not to fall in love but it is happening anyway.’”
Silver stared at him. “Father… you cannot diagnose romance from twenty meters away.”
Lilia gasped. “Silver. My sweet boy. I have been diagnosing romance from twenty meters away for centuries.”
Silver opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He could not, in good faith, dispute that. Below them, Malleus said something that made Leona’s expression soften, just a fraction, but enough for Lilia to squeal quietly. Silver grabbed him by the collar to keep him from falling off the balcony.
“Father,” Silver hissed. “Please. Control yourself.”
“I cannot,” Lilia whispered. “This is history in the making.”
Silver sighed. “It is two people talking.”
“It is two emotionally repressed disasters trying to communicate,” Lilia corrected. “That is far more significant.”
Silver watched them for a moment. Malleus’s shoulders were relaxed, his magic steadying. Leona’s posture was loose, unguarded in a way Silver had never seen around anyone else. They weren’t touching, but the space between them felt thin, warm, charged.
“…They do seem comfortable,” Silver admitted.
Lilia beamed. “See? You understand.”
“I understand that you are meddling.”
“I am guiding,” Lilia said.
“You fell out of a tree earlier.”
“That was reconnaissance.”
Silver pinched the bridge of his nose. “Father… what exactly are you hoping to accomplish.”
Lilia’s expression softened, the mischief fading into something older and gentler. “I want Malleus to be happy. Truly happy. And if Leona is someone who can give him that… then I want to see where it goes.”
Silver looked at him, surprised by the sincerity. “You trust Leona.”
Lilia paused. “I trust Malleus. And I trust that Leona knows what will happen to him if he breaks that trust.”
Silver nodded slowly. “That is fair.”
Below them, Malleus laughed, quiet, breathless, genuine. Leona looked startled, then pleased, then tried to hide it and failed miserably.
Lilia clutched his chest. “Oh, Silver. They are adorable.”
Silver exhaled. “They are… something.”
Lilia grinned. “And we will continue to observe.”
Silver stared at him. “We will not.”
“We will,” Lilia said.
“We should not.”
“We must.”
Silver sighed, defeated. “Fine. But we stay hidden.”
Lilia nodded solemnly. Then immediately leaned too far over the railing, rustling the ivy loudly enough that Leona’s ears twitched and Malleus glanced up. Silver yanked him back by the collar.
“Father,” he whispered sharply. “Please.”
Lilia giggled. “Oops.”
Sebek had been searching for Malleus for the better part of an hour, stomping through the halls with the righteous fury of a man convinced his lord was in imminent danger. He had checked the training grounds, the library, the music room, and even the cafeteria. Where he loudly berated a group of first‑years for “eating too loudly in the presence of potential crisis.” When he finally spotted Lilia and Silver perched suspiciously on a balcony, half‑hidden behind ivy, he froze.
Silver noticed him first. His expression shifted from calm to resigned in a single blink. “Oh no.”
Sebek marched toward them with the determination of a knight charging into battle. “MASTER LILIA! SILVER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?!”
Lilia slapped a hand over Sebek’s mouth before he could finish the sentence. “Sebek, dear, we are observing.”
Sebek’s eyes bulged. He pulled back, sputtering. “OBSERVING WHAT???”
Silver grabbed him by the collar and yanked him into the shadows. “Quiet. You’ll give us away.”
Sebek blinked rapidly, confused. “Give us away? GIVE US AWAY TO WHOM?!?!”
Lilia pointed downward. Sebek followed his gaze. And froze. Below them, Malleus and Leona stood close, far too close, speaking in low, intimate tones. Malleus’s magic glowed softly around him, warm and steady, his face gorgeously flushed. Leona leaned in slightly, posture relaxed, expression unguarded in a way Sebek had never seen.
Sebek’s jaw dropped. “WHAT- WHAT- WHAT IS-???”
Silver clamped a hand over his mouth. “Sebek. Please. For the love of all things peaceful. Lower your voice.”
Sebek made a muffled, strangled noise that sounded like a kettle boiling over. His eyes darted between Malleus and Leona, then to Lilia, then back again. He looked like he was experiencing every emotion known to man simultaneously.
Lilia patted his shoulder. “Yes, yes. They’re bonding.”
Sebek ripped Silver’s hand away. “BONDING? BONDING? MY LORD IS IN A COMPROMISING POSITION!”
Silver sighed. “They’re just talking.”
“THAT IS THE MOST COMPROMISING POSITION OF ALL,” Sebek declared.
Lilia giggled. “Oh, Sebek. You’re adorable.”
“I AM NOT ADORABLE,” Sebek barked. “I AM ALERT. I AM VIGILANT. I AM-!”
“Loud,” Silver finished.
Sebek puffed up like an angry bird. “I AM PROTECTING MY LORD’S HONOR.”
Lilia leaned in, eyes sparkling. “From what.”
Sebek pointed dramatically at Leona. “FROM HIM.”
Silver pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sebek… Leona is not attacking him.”
“He is attacking his HEART,” Sebek insisted.
Lilia clapped his hands. “Exactly!”
Silver groaned. “Father, please don’t encourage him.”
But Lilia was already leaning forward again, peeking through the ivy with the enthusiasm of a child watching a soap opera. “Look, look! Malleus is leaning in.”
Sebek gasped. “HE IS- HE IS! OH GREAT SEVEN, HE IS!”
Silver grabbed him again. “Sebek. Breathe.”
Sebek inhaled sharply, then exhaled in a loud, dramatic huff. “I cannot believe this. My lord is being emotionally compromised while I stand idly by!”
“You’re not standing idly by,” Lilia said. “You’re spying.”
“THAT IS WORSE,” Sebek cried.
Silver shook his head. “It’s better than interrupting.”
Sebek froze. “Interrupting… would be worse?”
“Yes,” Silver said.
Lilia nodded. “Much worse.”
Sebek processed this. His eyes widened. “Then… then I must remain silent.”
“Yes,” Silver said.
“For my lord’s sake.”
“Yes.”
Sebek straightened, determination blazing in his eyes. “THEN I SHALL BE SILENT.”
He was silent for exactly three seconds. Then Malleus laughed softly at something Leona said. Sebek screamed. Silver and Lilia tackled him to the ground.
For a while, Malleus and Leona managed to talk uninterrupted. It was quiet, warm, and strangely peaceful, the kind of moment that felt fragile, like a soap bubble floating in the air. Malleus found himself relaxing, his magic settling into a soft glow that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Leona stood close, steady and grounding, watching every subtle flush of Malleus's face, his voice low enough that Malleus felt it more than heard it. And then the ivy rustled. Loudly.
Leona’s ears twitched. Malleus blinked, confused. They both paused, listening. The courtyard was still for a moment… until a muffled argument drifted down from above.
“Sebek, stop screaming!”
“I AM NOT SCREAMING!”
“You are absolutely screaming."
“Father, please don’t lean over the railing..”
“I’m not leaning, I’m observing!~”
Leona closed his eyes. “Oh, for the love of..”
Malleus’s expression shifted from confusion… to dawning horror. He looked up. And saw them. Lilia, Silver, and Sebek were crammed together behind a curtain of ivy on the balcony, a trio of mismatched spies who had absolutely no business spying on anyone. Lilia was floating, Silver was holding him by the collar to keep him from falling, and Sebek was halfway through being tackled to the ground again.
Malleus stared. They froze. A full three seconds passed. Then Sebek screamed.
“MY LORD! WE WERE NOT SPYING!”
Silver slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sebek. Please.”
Lilia waved cheerfully. “Hello, Malleus!”
Malleus’s face went red. Not pink. Not warm. Red. His magic flared in a bright, startled burst that sent a ripple through the courtyard, making the lanterns flicker and the petals on the trees swirl in a sudden gust of wind. Leona stepped closer instinctively, steadying him with a hand hovering near his arm, not touching, but close enough that Malleus felt the warmth.
“Hey,” Leona murmured. “Easy. Breathe.”
Malleus tried. He really did. But the embarrassment hit him like a physical blow. His guardians, his family, had been watching him. Watching them. Watching him attempt to navigate feelings he barely understood while Leona stood close enough to make his heart stutter.
He covered his face with one hand. “This is… mortifying.”
Leona huffed a quiet laugh. “Welcome to my life. People spy on me all the time.”
“That is not comforting,” Malleus muttered.
Above them, Lilia cupped his hands around his mouth. “Don’t mind us! Pretend we’re not here!”
“You’re literally shouting,” Leona called back.
Silver sighed. “Father, please. You’re making it worse.”
Sebek broke free of Silver’s grip. “MY LORD, I SWEAR I WAS ONLY PROTECTING YOUR HONOR!”
Malleus groaned softly. “Sebek, please stop speaking.”
Sebek immediately stopped speaking.
Lilia, however, did not. “We were simply ensuring that Leona wasn’t attempting anything untoward.”
Leona rolled his eyes. “If I was, you’d know.”
“Oh, I know,” Lilia said sweetly. “That’s why we’re here.”
Malleus’s magic flared again, swirling around him in a bright, embarrassed halo. He turned to Leona, voice low and strained. “I apologize. They mean well. They simply… do not know when to stop.”
Leona smirked. “I can see that.”
Malleus looked up at him, eyes wide and flustered. “This is humiliating.”
Leona leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “Not to me.”
Malleus’s breath caught. Above them, Lilia squealed. Silver groaned. Sebek screamed again.
Malleus covered his face with both hands. “I cannot do this.”
Leona chuckled under his breath. “Then let’s go somewhere they can’t follow.”
Malleus peeked through his fingers. “Is there such a place.”
Leona’s smile was slow and confident. “I’ll find one.”
And for the first time since realizing he had an audience, Malleus felt his magic settle, warm, steady, and drawn toward the one person who wasn’t making this worse.
Leona didn’t wait for the trio to recover from their collective meltdown. The moment Malleus whispered, “Is there anywhere they cannot follow?” Leona took his wrist, lightly, carefully, giving him every chance to pull away, and said, “Yeah. Come on.” Malleus didn’t pull away. His magic fluttered in a soft, startled pulse, and he let Leona guide him across the courtyard toward the quieter, shaded paths behind the school.
They had barely rounded the corner when Lilia popped out of the ivy like a mischievous forest sprite.
Silver grabbed him by the back of the collar before he could float after them. “Father. No.”
“But Silver,” Lilia protested, kicking his feet in the air, “they’re going somewhere private.”
“Exactly,” Silver said. “Which means we should not follow.”
Sebek, who had finally regained his ability to speak, gasped dramatically. “WE MUST FOLLOW. MY LORD IS BEING LED AWAY BY A DANGEROUS BEASTMAN!”
Silver slapped a hand over his mouth again. “Sebek. Please. You are going to alert them.”
Sebek mumbled something unintelligible but extremely passionate into Silver’s palm.
Lilia tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Silver, dear, I understand your desire to respect boundaries. Truly, I do. But consider this: what if Leona says something emotionally compromising.”
Silver blinked. “Emotionally compromising… for whom.”
“For both of them,” Lilia said cheerfully. “And I want to see it.”
Sebek ripped free of Silver’s grip. “THEN WE MUST INTERVENE!”
“No,” Silver said firmly. “We must observe.”
Sebek froze. “Observe… from a distance?”
“Yes.”
Sebek straightened, determination blazing in his eyes. “THEN I SHALL OBSERVE WITH THE UTMOST DISCIPLINE.”
He immediately tripped over a decorative stone lantern. Silver sighed. Lilia clapped.
“Excellent enthusiasm,” Lilia said. “Terrible execution. But we can work with this.”
The trio crept after Malleus and Leona (if “crept” could be used to describe Lilia floating too high, Silver walking with the resigned posture of a man who had accepted his fate, and Sebek stomping like a marching band trying to be stealthy). They followed the pair down a winding path lined with tall hedges. Leona and Malleus walked close, their voices low and warm, the kind of conversation that made Lilia’s heart flutter with parental pride and Sebek’s heart seize with dramatic panic.
“Look,” Lilia whispered, pointing. “Leona is leaning in again.”
Sebek gasped. “HE IS TOO CLOSE!”
Silver grabbed him. “Sebek. Quiet.”
Malleus paused mid‑sentence, his head tilting slightly. “Leona… do you hear something.”
Leona didn’t even look back. “Yeah. Three idiots failing at stealth.”
Lilia froze. Silver froze. Sebek froze.
Malleus blinked. “Three…?”
Leona sighed. “Your entourage.”
Malleus’s face went red again. “Oh no.”
Leona smirked. “Oh yes.”
Behind the hedge, Lilia clapped a hand over Sebek’s mouth before he could scream again. Silver pressed himself flat against the leaves, silently praying to any deity who would listen.
Leona turned slightly, raising his voice just enough to carry. “If you three are gonna follow us, at least try not to sound like a stampede.”
Lilia gasped. “He heard us.”
Silver whispered, “Of course he heard us.”
Sebek whispered louder, “WE HAVE FAILED!”
“Sebek,” Silver hissed, “whispering louder is not whispering.”
Malleus covered his face with both hands. “This is a nightmare.”
Leona chuckled. “Could be worse.”
“How,” Malleus demanded.
Leona leaned closer, voice low. “They could be taking notes.”
Behind the hedge, Lilia quietly pulled out a notebook. Silver snatched it away. Sebek tried to peek over the hedge. Silver yanked him down.
Malleus groaned. “Leona… please… make them stop.”
Leona shrugged. “I can try.”
He turned toward the hedge.
“HEY. YOU THREE.”
The trio froze.
Leona pointed down the path. “Go home.”
Lilia smiled sweetly. “No.”
Sebek puffed up. “NEVER.”
Silver sighed. “I tried.”
Leona pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unbelievable.”
Malleus looked at him helplessly. “They will not leave.”
Leona stepped closer, voice dropping. “Then we’ll just have to go somewhere they can’t reach.”
Malleus blinked. “Where is that.”
Leona’s smile was slow and confident. “My dorm.”
Leona took Malleus’s wrist again.
“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get out of here.”
And this time, Malleus didn’t hesitate.
Ruggie Bucchi had seen many strange things during his time in Savanaclaw. He had seen Leona sleep through earthquakes. He had seen freshmen attempt dominance displays and get punted across the courtyard. He had seen magical beasts wander in, take one look at Leona, and wander right back out. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for the sight of Leona Kingscholar walking into the dorm with Malleus Draconia at his side.
Ruggie froze mid‑step, a stack of laundry in his arms. His brain short‑circuited. His survival instincts screamed. His soul briefly left his body.
Leona noticed him first. “What.”
Ruggie pointed at Malleus with a trembling hand. “Why is he here.”
Malleus blinked politely. “Hello, Ruggie.”
Ruggie made a noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a prayer.
Leona rolled his eyes. “Relax. He’s with me.”
“That’s the problem,” Ruggie hissed, dropping the laundry. “Leona, you can’t just bring the literal heir of Briar Valley into Savanaclaw like he’s a lost puppy.”
Malleus tilted his head. “I am not a puppy.”
“No offense, your highness,” Ruggie said quickly, “but you glow when you’re emotional and you cause thunderstorms when you sneeze. That’s puppy energy.”
Malleus looked deeply offended. Leona snorted.
Ruggie stepped closer, lowering his voice to a frantic whisper. “Leona. Buddy. Pal. What are you doing.”
Leona shrugged. “Getting some privacy.”
Ruggie stared at him. “In here? In Savanaclaw? With him?”
Leona raised an eyebrow. “You got a problem with that.”
Ruggie opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “I have several problems with that.”
Malleus shifted, looking faintly embarrassed. “If this is inconvenient, I can-”
“Nope,” Leona said, stepping closer to him. “You’re staying.”
Ruggie watched the way Malleus’s magic fluttered at that, soft, warm, almost shy, and his eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no no no. Leona. Are you- are you-..”
Leona glared. “Don’t say it.”
Ruggie whispered anyway. “Are you courting him?”
Malleus nearly tripped over his own feet.
Leona choked. “Ruggie!”
Ruggie grabbed his head with both hands. “Leona, you can’t just-! you can’t- this is- this is political. This is dangerous. This is-”
He paused. Then pointed at Malleus again.
“This is romantic tension, isn’t it.”
Malleus’s magic flared in a bright, startled pulse. Leona groaned. “Ruggie, I swear!”
Ruggie backed up, hands raised. “Hey, hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying if you’re gonna flirt with the fae prince, maybe don’t do it in the middle of the dorm where everyone can see.”
Leona’s ears twitched. “I’m not flirting.”
Malleus looked at him. “You are.”
Leona turned slowly. “Excuse me.”
Malleus’s cheeks warmed. “You… lean in. A lot.”
Ruggie slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming.
Leona stared at Malleus. “You’re imagining things.”
Malleus shook his head. “I am not.”
Ruggie whispered, “Oh my Seven, this is better than TV.”
Leona shot him a death glare. “Get out.”
Ruggie saluted. “Yes, your majesty.”
He darted down the hall, already pulling out his phone to text Jack something along the lines of YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW.
But before he turned the corner, he glanced back.
Leona had stepped closer to Malleus again, not touching, but close enough that the air between them shimmered with magic and something warmer. Malleus didn’t step away. If anything, he leaned in. Ruggie grinned.
Leona didn’t stop walking until they reached the quieter wing of Savanaclaw, the one most students avoided because it was too close to Leona’s personal territory. The hallway was dim, lit only by the late afternoon sun filtering through high windows, casting long golden stripes across the floor. Malleus followed silently, his steps soft, his magic settling into a gentle hum that vibrated faintly in the air. It wasn’t the nervous, flickering pulse from earlier. It was calmer now. Warmer. Drawn toward Leona like a tide pulled by the moon.
Leona pushed open the door to his private lounge, a room few people ever saw. It wasn’t fancy, but it was quiet. A couch, a low table, a few scattered books, and a window overlooking the savanna‑like training grounds. He stepped aside, letting Malleus enter first.
Malleus paused in the doorway, taking in the space with a kind of quiet curiosity. “This is… peaceful.”
Leona shrugged. “It’s where I go when I don’t want anyone bothering me.”
Malleus turned to him, eyes soft. “And you brought me here.”
Leona looked away, pretending to examine the window. “You needed a break.”
Malleus stepped further inside, his magic brushing against the room like a warm breeze. “I did,” he admitted. “I still do.”
Leona closed the door behind them, shutting out the noise, the spying, the chaos. For the first time all day, the world felt still. Malleus moved toward the window, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed in a way Leona rarely saw. The sunlight caught in his hair, turning the green strands into something almost ethereal.
Leona leaned against the wall, watching him. “You okay?"
Malleus exhaled slowly. “I am… overwhelmed. Embarrassed. Confused.” He paused, then added softly, “But not unhappy.”
Leona’s tail flicked once. “Good.”
Malleus glanced over his shoulder. “You are very calm.”
“Someone has to be,” Leona said. “If I freak out every time your entourage screams, we’ll never get anything done.”
Malleus huffed a quiet laugh, small, but real. It warmed the room more than the sunlight did. He turned fully, facing Leona with an openness that made Leona’s chest tighten. “I apologize for them. They care deeply. Sometimes too deeply.”
“They’re protective,” Leona said. “I get it.”
Malleus stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “And you… are not afraid of them?”
Leona smirked. “Should I be.”
Malleus shook his head. “No. But most people are.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I know,” Malleus said softly.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was warm, heavy, full of things neither of them had said yet. Malleus’s magic pulsed again, gentle and steady, like it was reaching for something. Leona didn’t move away. He didn’t break the moment. He just watched Malleus with that steady, unreadable gaze that somehow made Malleus feel seen rather than judged.
Malleus lowered his voice. “Leona… earlier, when you said I didn’t have to be scared of this… did you mean it.”
“Yeah,” Leona said. No hesitation. No deflection. Just truth.
Malleus’s breath caught. “And you are not scared.”
Leona pushed off the wall, stepping closer until they were only a few feet apart. “I didn’t say that.”
Malleus blinked. “You… are scared.”
Leona shrugged. “A little. New things usually are.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered, bright and startled. “Then why stay.”
Leona held his gaze, steady and warm. “Because it’s worth it.”
Malleus’s heart stuttered. His magic flared in a soft halo around him, lighting the room in a faint green glow. He looked down, overwhelmed, then back up with a small, shy smile that Leona had never seen before.
“Thank you,” Malleus whispered.
Leona stepped close enough that their shadows merged. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m not done.”
Malleus swallowed. “What do you mean.”
Leona’s voice dropped, low and warm. “I’m staying right here. As long as you need.”
And for the first time all day, Malleus truly breathed.
For a moment, a rare, quiet, golden moment, the world had narrowed to just the two of them. Malleus stood close enough that Leona could feel the warmth of his magic brushing against his skin like a soft breeze. His eyes were half‑lidded, his breath slow and unsteady, his posture leaning in with the kind of hesitant courage that made Leona’s chest tighten. Leona’s hand hovered near Malleus’s waist, not touching, but close enough that the space between them felt thin, fragile, electric.
Malleus whispered, “Leona…”
And Leona, for once, didn’t deflect. Didn’t tease. Didn’t run. He leaned in. Slowly. Deliberately. Close enough that Malleus’s breath hitched and his magic flared in a soft halo of green light. Their foreheads nearly touched. Their lips were a breath apart.
Malleus’s eyes fluttered shut. Leona’s hand lifted. And then the door exploded open.
“UNCLE LEOOOOOOOO!”
Leona jerked back so fast he nearly tripped over the couch. Malleus’s magic burst outward in a startled shockwave that rattled the windows and made the lights flicker. Both of them turned toward the doorway with identical expressions of disbelief and horror. Cheka Kingscholar stood there, beaming, arms wide, tail wagging like a puppy who had just found his favorite toy.
“UNCLE LEO! I FOUND YOU!”
Leona stared at him, dead inside. “Why are you here.”
Cheka sprinted across the room and launched himself at Leona with the force of a small meteor. Leona caught him out of pure reflex, staggering back as Cheka wrapped his arms around his neck.
“I MISSED YOU!” Cheka shouted directly into his ear.
Leona winced. “Cheka. It’s been two weeks.”
“That’s SO LONG!”
Malleus stood frozen, still glowing faintly, still trying to process the emotional whiplash of going from almost kissed to ambushed by a toddler in under three seconds. Cheka finally noticed him. He gasped.
“YOU’RE THE DRAGON GUY!”
Malleus blinked. “I… suppose I am.”
Cheka ran up to him, eyes sparkling. “CAN YOU TURN INTO A DRAGON RIGHT NOW?”
“No,” Malleus said gently.
“CAN YOU BREATHE FIRE?”
“No.”
“CAN YOU FLY?”
“Yes, but-”
“CAN YOU TAKE ME FLYING RIGHT NOW?”
Leona groaned. “Cheka, leave him alone.”
Cheka ignored him completely. “UNCLE LEO, ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH THE DRAGON GUY?”
Leona opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Malleus watched him, cheeks still faintly pink, magic still fluttering around him like a heartbeat.
Cheka gasped dramatically. “ARE YOU ON A DATE.”
Leona choked. “CHEKA!”
Malleus’s magic flared so brightly the room lit up.
Cheka squealed. “YOU ARE ON A DATE!”
Leona grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. “We are not on a date.”
Malleus, flustered beyond reason, whispered, “We were… talking.”
Cheka nodded sagely. “That’s what adults call it.”
Leona nearly dropped him. Malleus covered his face with both hands.
Cheka beamed. “I WANNA COME TOO!”
“No,” Leona said immediately.
“YES!” Cheka insisted.
Malleus whispered, mortified, “Leona… I believe the moment has passed.”
Leona sighed, defeated. “Yeah. I noticed.”
Cheka tugged on Leona’s sleeve. “Uncle Leo, can we get snacks? And can the dragon guy come? And can he show me magic? And can I ride on his shoulders? And-!”
Leona looked at Malleus. Malleus looked at Leona. And despite everything, the interruption, the embarrassment, the ruined moment, they both laughed. Softly. Quietly. Together.
Cheka blinked. “Why are you laughing.”
Leona ruffled his hair. “No reason.”
Malleus smiled, warm and shy. “Perhaps… we can continue our conversation later.”
Leona’s eyes softened. “Count on it.”
Cheka gasped. “YOU ARE ON A DATE!”
Leona groaned. Malleus glowed. Cheka cheered.
And somewhere, very far away, Lilia sneezed. The universal sign that chaos was unfolding without him.
Lilia Vanrouge was minding his own business. Which, for Lilia, meant floating upside‑down in the Diasomnia lounge, sipping tea, and humming a war song from three centuries ago while Silver tried to meditate and Sebek attempted to reorganize the bookshelf by “levels of Malleus‑appropriateness.” Everything was peaceful. Until the door slammed open so hard it rattled the chandeliers.
Ruggie Bucchi stumbled in, panting like he’d sprinted across campus. His hair was a mess, his shirt was crooked, and he looked like a man who had just witnessed something life‑altering.
Lilia flipped upright instantly. “Oh my. Ruggie! What brings you to our humble tower.”
Ruggie pointed at him, wheezing. “You! You’re not gonna believe this!”
Lilia’s eyes sparkled. “Try me.”
Ruggie took a deep breath. “Cheka showed up.”
Sebek gasped. “THE PRINCE OF SUNSET SAVANNA??”
“Sebek,” Silver warned.
Ruggie continued, “He barged into Leona’s private lounge.”
Lilia leaned forward. “Go on.”
“And he- he-” Ruggie wheezed, clutching his knees. “He walked in right as Leona and Malleus were about to-”
Lilia’s pupils dilated like a cat spotting prey.
“About to what,” he asked sweetly.
Ruggie gulped. “About to kiss.”
Sebek screamed. Silver dropped his sword. Lilia ascended. Literally. He floated several feet into the air, tea spilling everywhere, eyes glowing with the unholy joy of a man who had just been handed the greatest gossip of the century.
“THEY WERE ABOUT TO KISS,” Lilia repeated, voice echoing with ancient, delighted power.
Ruggie nodded frantically. “Yeah! Like- like this close! And then Cheka kicked the door open and yelled ‘UNCLE LEOOOO’ and everything exploded.”
Lilia clapped his hands, spinning mid‑air. “Oh, this is WONDERFUL!”
Sebek collapsed to his knees. “MY LORD WAS ALMOST- ALMOST-?”
Silver placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Sebek. Breathe.”
Lilia floated down just enough to grab Ruggie by the shoulders. “Tell me everything. Every detail. Every breath. Every millimeter of distance between their lips.”
Ruggie blinked. “Uh, okay- well, Leona leaned in first-”
“I KNEW IT,” Lilia shrieked.
Silver winced. “Father, please.”
“And Malleus closed his eyes-”
Sebek fainted.
“And then Cheka yelled something about dragons and dates-”
Lilia dissolved into delighted laughter, spinning in circles like a fae tornado of chaos. “Oh, this is magnificent! This is glorious! This is- this is better than any opera I’ve ever seen!”
Silver sighed. “Father… please don’t meddle.”
“Meddle?” Lilia gasped. “Silver, my sweet boy, I would never meddle.”
Ruggie stared at him. “You’re absolutely going to meddle.”
Lilia grinned. “Of course I am.”
Sebek, revived by sheer indignation, leapt to his feet. “WE MUST PROTECT MY LORD FROM FURTHER ROMANTIC AMBUSHES!”
Lilia patted his head. “Oh no, Sebek. We must protect him from interruptions.”
Sebek blinked. “Interruptions?”
“Yes,” Lilia said, eyes gleaming. “Because next time… they deserve to finish what they started.”
Silver covered his face. “Father…”
Ruggie backed toward the door. “I’m gonna go before Leona kills me for telling you.”
Lilia waved him off. “Thank you, Ruggie! You have done a great service to the forces of love!”
Ruggie fled.
Sebek saluted. “MASTER LILIA! WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS.”
Lilia smiled, ancient and terrifying. “Prepare the troops.”
Silver groaned. “Father, no.”
“Oh yes,” Lilia said, floating toward the window. “We are going to ensure that the next time Malleus and Leona get close…”
His eyes glowed.
“No one interrupts.”
Leona had just managed to get Cheka settled with Ruggie, bribed with snacks, toys, and the promise of “Uncle Leona time later.” It wasn’t perfect, but it bought him a window. A precious, fragile window. And he intended to use it. He returned to his private lounge to find Malleus standing by the window again, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. His magic shimmered faintly around him, warm and steady, like he’d been waiting. Like he trusted Leona to come back.
Leona closed the door behind him. “Sorry about the interruption.”
Malleus turned, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It is not your fault. Cheka is… enthusiastic.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Malleus stepped closer, his expression softening. “Were we… in the middle of something.”
Leona’s heart kicked up. “Yeah. We were.”
Malleus’s breath caught. His magic pulsed, brighter this time, drawn toward Leona like a tide. He took another step, then another, until they were close enough that Leona could feel the warmth radiating off him. Malleus tilted his head slightly, eyes half‑lidded, voice barely above a whisper.
“Then… may we continue.”
Leona didn’t answer with words. He leaned in. Slowly. Carefully. Close enough that Malleus’s eyelashes fluttered and his magic wrapped around them both like a soft, glowing veil. Their foreheads brushed. Their breaths mingled.
Malleus whispered, “Leona…”
Leona’s hand lifted to Malleus’s waist.
And then?
“UNCLE LEOOOOO!”
Leona’s soul left his body. Malleus's magic flared in a violent shockwave. But before the door could slam open, before Cheka could burst in like a tiny lion‑shaped missile, before the moment could be destroyed again, a blur of pink and black swooped down from above.
Lilia. Lilia Vanrouge descended like a fae hawk, snatching Cheka mid‑air by the back of his shirt before the cub even reached the doorway.
Cheka dangled in his grip, kicking his legs. “HEY! LET ME GO! I WANNA SEE UNCLE LEO!”
Lilia smiled sweetly. “Oh, Cheka dear, I’m afraid they’re busy.”
“BUSY WITH WHAT!?”
“Romantic development,” Lilia said cheerfully.
Leona choked. Malleus nearly combusted.
Cheka gasped. “YOU MEAN KISSING?!”
Lilia covered his mouth. “Hush now. We mustn’t interrupt.”
Cheka mumbled something furious and muffled.
Lilia floated backward, carrying the squirming cub like a misbehaving kitten. “Don’t worry, little prince. I’ll take you somewhere fun. Far, far away from here.”
“BUT I WANNA SEE!”
“No,” Lilia said, voice bright and terrifying. “You do not.”
And with a swirl of magic, he vanished, Cheka still dangling in his grip, screaming indignantly into the void. Silence fell. Leona stared at the empty doorway. Malleus stared at the same spot, cheeks glowing faintly green.
“…Did that just happen?” Leona muttered.
Malleus exhaled shakily. “I believe so.”
Leona rubbed his face. “Your guardian just kidnapped my nephew.”
Malleus looked down, flustered. “He… meant well.”
Leona snorted. “He always does.”
The room fell quiet again, warm, charged, full of the moment they’d almost lost twice now.
Malleus stepped closer, voice soft. “Leona… may we try again.”
Leona’s breath caught. He smiled, slow, warm, devastating.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “We can try again.”
And this time, nothing interrupted them. Not yet.
For a long, suspended heartbeat, neither of them moved. The room was quiet in a way that felt intentional, as if even the air had decided to hold still for them. Malleus stood close enough that Leona could feel the warmth radiating off him, soft and steady, like sunlight filtered through leaves. His magic shimmered faintly around them, not flaring this time, but settling, warm, welcoming, drawn toward Leona with a quiet certainty.
Leona lifted a hand, slow and deliberate, giving Malleus every chance to step back. He didn’t. If anything, Malleus leaned in, breath catching softly, eyes half‑lidded and bright with something fragile and hopeful. His fingers curled slightly at his sides, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, as if he was afraid to reach out and afraid not to.
“Leona…” he whispered, voice trembling in a way that made Leona’s chest tighten.
Leona stepped closer, close enough that their foreheads brushed, a soft, fleeting touch that sent a ripple through Malleus’s magic. The glow around him brightened, wrapping them both in a warm, green halo that made the room feel smaller, safer, like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.
“You sure about this?” Leona murmured, his voice low, steady, and softer than Malleus had ever heard it.
Malleus’s breath trembled. “I am.”
Leona exhaled slowly, the sound brushing against Malleus’s skin. “Then come here.”
Malleus closed the last inch between them. He didn’t need to touch Leona’s face. He didn’t need to grab his shirt. He didn’t need anything dramatic. He simply leaned in, fully, willingly, without hesitation, and the space between them dissolved.
Leona’s eyes fluttered shut. Malleus’s magic surged, warm and bright, filling the room with a soft pulse of light that made the shadows dance across the walls. It wasn’t explosive or chaotic this time. It was gentle. Certain. A quiet, powerful yes.
When they finally drew back, just enough to breathe, just enough to look at each other, Malleus’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes shining with something new and overwhelming.
Leona rested his forehead against Malleus’s again, voice barely above a whisper. “Took us long enough.”
Malleus let out a soft, breathless laugh. “It did.”
Outside the window, far in the distance, a faint shriek echoed through the air, Cheka, undoubtedly protesting his aerial abduction.
Leona smirked. “We owe Lilia for that one.”
Malleus smiled, warm and shy. “He will never let us forget it.”
“Good,” Leona murmured. “I don’t want to forget this.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered again, soft, glowing, impossibly tender.
“Neither do I.”
Cheka Kingscholar was small. Cheka Kingscholar was fast. Cheka Kingscholar was powered by pure, unfiltered chaos. And Lilia, despite being a centuries‑old war general, had underestimated him. The moment Lilia set him down in the Diasomnia lounge, “just for a moment, dear, while I fetch you a snack” , Cheka’s eyes narrowed with the cunning of a child who had one mission and no fear.
He waited. One second. Two seconds. Three. And then he bolted. Silver barely had time to blink before Cheka shot past him like a tiny lion‑shaped comet. Sebek screamed. Lilia turned around just in time to see Cheka dive out the open window with the confidence of someone who had never once considered gravity a threat.
“UNCLE LEOOOOOOO!”
Lilia’s soul left his body.
“Oh no you don’t,” he hissed, launching himself after the cub.
Meanwhile, in Savanaclaw…
Leona and Malleus were still standing close, the air warm and quiet around them. Malleus’s magic glowed softly, steady and content, and Leona’s expression had softened into something rare, something open.
Malleus spoke first, voice low. “I am… glad we had this moment.”
Leona’s tail flicked once. “Yeah. Me too.”
They leaned in again, not rushed, not nervous, just drawn together by something gentle and certain.
A distant scream echoed across the savanna‑like grounds.
“UNCLE LEOOOOOOO!!”
Leona froze. “No. No. No.”
Malleus’s eyes widened. “Is that?”
“Yes,” Leona groaned. “It’s Cheka.”
Malleus’s magic flickered in alarm. “He escaped Lilia?”
“Apparently.”
They both turned toward the window just in time to see a tiny lion cub sprinting across the courtyard at full speed, arms outstretched, determination blazing in his eyes.
“UNCLE LEO, I FOUND YOU AGAIN!!”
Leona braced himself.
Malleus braced himself.
A blur of pink and black streaked across the sky.
Lilia swooped down like a hawk, scooping Cheka off the ground mid‑run with the precision of a seasoned predator.
Cheka shrieked. “NOOOOOOO! I WAS SO CLOSE!”
Lilia held him up by the back of his shirt like a misbehaving kitten. “Cheka, darling, you are far too young to be interrupting romantic milestones.”
Leona choked. “LILIA!”
Malleus covered his face with both hands.
Cheka kicked wildly. “PUT ME DOWN!! I NEED TO SEE!”
“No,” Lilia said sweetly. “You do not.”
He turned to Leona and Malleus, floating effortlessly with Cheka dangling from one hand. “Carry on, you two. Pretend I’m not here.”
“You’re literally right there,” Leona muttered.
“I’ll be gone in a moment,” Lilia said, already drifting upward. “Silver! Sebek! I’ve retrieved the escapee!”
Sebek’s voice echoed faintly from afar. “MASTER LILIA, YOU ARE A HERO!”
Silver sighed. “Please bring him back safely.”
Cheka screamed, “UNCLE LEOOOOOOO! I’LL COME BACK!”
“No you won’t,” Lilia said, vanishing in a swirl of sparkles.
Silence. Real silence.
Leona exhaled slowly. “Your family is insane.”
Malleus lowered his hands, cheeks warm. “I am aware.”
Leona stepped closer again, voice low. “Now… where were we.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered, soft and bright. “Right here.”
And this time, nothing interrupted them.
Lilia had sworn, sworn, that he would give them space. He had also sworn that he would not meddle. He had sworn many things. He had meant none of them. So there he was, perched upside‑down on the roof outside Leona’s lounge window, clinging to the stone like a smug little bat, eyes glowing faintly as he peered through the glass.
Inside, Leona and Malleus stood close. Very close. The kind of close that made Lilia’s ancient heart flutter with parental pride and unholy glee. Malleus’s magic glowed softly around them, warm and steady, and Leona’s posture had softened into something rare, something open, something gentle.
Lilia clasped his hands together. “Oh, they’re adorable.”
He leaned in further, nose practically pressed to the window. Inside, Leona murmured something low, something that made Malleus’s breath catch and his magic pulse in a soft halo of green light. Malleus stepped closer, eyes half‑lidded, expression warm and hopeful.
Lilia squealed silently. He leaned in even more. The roof tile beneath him shifted. Lilia froze. The tile slid.
Lilia slid with it.
He flailed silently, trying to grab the edge of the roof, but gravity had other plans. He tumbled downward in a slow, dramatic arc, a dual‑haired fae doing an accidental somersault directly past the window.
Inside, Leona blinked. “Was that?”
Malleus stared. “Lilia.”
Outside, Lilia clung to the window ledge with one hand, dangling like a very embarrassed bat. He plastered on a smile. “Hello, children.”
Leona groaned. “You’re spying.”
“I am observing,” Lilia corrected, hauling himself upright with supernatural grace. “There is a difference.”
Malleus covered his face with both hands. “Lilia…”
Lilia floated up to the window, peeking inside again. “Don’t mind me. Pretend I’m not here.”
“You’re literally right there,” Leona said flatly.
“I’ll be gone in a moment,” Lilia promised.
He did not leave. He hovered. He watched. He sparkled.
Malleus’s cheeks glowed faintly green. “Lilia, please. This is… private.”
Lilia gasped dramatically. “Private? Oh, my dear Malleus, I would never intrude on something private.”
“You are intruding right now,” Leona said.
Lilia waved a hand. “Nonsense. I am simply ensuring that no one interrupts you.”
“You are the interruption,” Leona snapped.
Lilia blinked. “Oh.”
He floated back a few inches, thinking.
Then he nodded. “Fair point.”
He drifted upward, away from the window. Leona exhaled in relief. Malleus relaxed. And then.
Lilia’s head popped back down from above. “Carry on!”
Leona threw a pillow at the window. Lilia dodged it effortlessly and vanished into the night, giggling like a gremlin who had just witnessed the greatest romance of the century.
Inside, Malleus sighed. “He will not stop, will he?”
Leona stepped closer again, voice low. “No. But we don’t need him to.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered softly. “No. We don’t.”
And this time, Lilia stayed far enough away to let the moment unfold, even if he was absolutely taking notes from the roof.
Ruggie Bucchi had seen a lot of nonsense today. He had seen Leona bring Malleus into Savanaclaw. He had seen Cheka get abducted by a fae mid‑sprint. He had seen Leona and Malleus disappear into the private lounge with the kind of tension that made him want to invest in earplugs. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for the sight of Lilia Vanrouge plastered to the outside of Leona’s window like a pastel‑haired gecko.
Ruggie froze in the hallway, laundry basket in hand, staring at the tiny fae clinging to the stone wall with one hand while peeking through the window with the intensity of a wildlife documentarian. Lilia didn’t notice him at first. He was too busy whispering to himself.
“Oh, look at them… so close… so sweet… so beautifully awkward…”
Ruggie blinked. Twice. Then he set the laundry basket down and marched over to the window.
“Oi.”
Lilia jolted, slipping half an inch before catching himself. He turned his head, upside‑down, smiling like a man who had been caught stealing cookies and was proud of it.
“Ruggie! Lovely evening, isn’t it.”
Ruggie stared. “What are you doing.”
“Observing,” Lilia said cheerfully.
“You’re spying.”
“I am supervising.”
“You’re spying.”
Lilia gasped dramatically. “Ruggie, how could you accuse me of such a thing.”
“You’re literally hanging off the window like a bat.”
“I prefer ‘graceful aerial observer.’”
Ruggie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Leona’s gonna kill you.”
“Oh, he won’t,” Lilia said, waving a hand. “He’s far too busy being romantic.”
Ruggie choked. “Romantic? Lilia, you can’t just-”
“Oh, but I can,” Lilia said, eyes sparkling. “And I will.”
Ruggie leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Look, I get it. You’re protective. But if Leona sees you spying on him during a- a moment, he’s gonna lose it.”
Lilia tilted his head. “A moment, you say.”
Ruggie groaned. “Don’t make me say it.”
“A romantic moment?”
“Lilia.”
“A tender moment?”
“Stop.”
“A kiss‑adjacent moment?”
Ruggie slapped a hand over Lilia’s mouth. “If you say one more thing, I’m dropping you.”
Lilia blinked, then gently removed Ruggie’s hand. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Ruggie smirked. “Try me.”
For a second, they stared at each other, gremlin to gremlin, chaos to chaos, menace to menace.
Then Lilia giggled. “Oh, you’re delightful.”
Ruggie sighed. “Look. I’m not saying I don’t wanna know what’s going on in there. I’m just saying you’re gonna get caught.”
Lilia’s eyes gleamed. “I never get caught.”
Ruggie pointed at the window. “They already saw you once.”
Lilia froze.
Then he floated upward an inch. “That was a tactical miscalculation.”
Ruggie snorted. “Sure it was.”
Lilia leaned back toward the window. “Now hush. They’re getting closer again.”
Ruggie’s eyes widened. “Wait. They’re-?”
Lilia nodded eagerly. “Yes. Yes they are.”
Ruggie hesitated. Then slowly… quietly… he stepped beside Lilia and peeked through the window too.
Lilia grinned. “Ah. I knew you’d join me.”
Ruggie whispered, “Shut up.”
Inside, Leona and Malleus stood close again, warm, quiet, drawn toward each other like magnets. Malleus’s magic glowed softly, and Leona’s posture had softened into something rare and unguarded.
Ruggie’s jaw dropped. “Oh dang. They’re really-?”
Lilia clasped his hands. “Yes. Yes they are.”
Ruggie whispered, “This is wild.”
Lilia whispered back, “This is destiny.”
Ruggie elbowed him. “This is dangerous.”
Lilia elbowed him back. “This is adorable.”
They both leaned in further. The roof tile beneath them creaked.
Ruggie froze. “Don’t you dare!”
Lilia froze. “I am perfectly balanced.”
The tile shifted.
Ruggie grabbed the wall. “Lilia-!”
Lilia grabbed Ruggie’s sleeve. “Ruggie-!”
The tile snapped. Both of them fell. Ruggie screamed. Lilia laughed. They crashed into a bush directly below the window. Inside, Leona’s ears twitched.
Malleus blinked. “What was that.”
Leona sighed. “Two idiots.”
Outside, tangled in leaves, Ruggie groaned. “I hate you.”
Lilia patted his head. “You love me, child.”
Ruggie groaned louder. “Shut up.”
Lilia giggled. “Shall we try again?”
Ruggie stared at him. “Absolutely not.”
Lilia floated upward anyway. “Excellent! I’ll take that as a yes.”
Ruggie buried his face in his hands. “I’m gonna die here.”
Cheka Kingscholar had escaped Lilia once. He could do it again. At least, that’s what he told himself as he wriggled out of Silver’s arms like a slippery eel, dropped to the floor, and sprinted toward the nearest open window with the determination of a child who had one mission and no sense of mortality.
Silver lunged. “Cheka! Wait!”
Sebek lunged. “YOUNG PRINCE, HALT!”
Lilia lunged. “No, no, no!”
Cheka dove out the window. Again.
Meanwhile, Ruggie and Lilia were still tangled in the bush beneath Leona’s window, trying to untangle themselves without making noise.
Ruggie groaned. “I swear, if Leona catches us..”
Lilia shushed him. “Quiet. They’re having a moment.”
Ruggie peeked through the leaves. “Yeah, yeah, I see it. They’re- oh wow, they’re really-”
Lilia squealed silently. “Yes. Yes they are.”
A small shadow launched itself from above.
“UNCLE LEOOOOOOO!”
Ruggie screamed. Lilia screamed. Cheka landed directly on top of them like a tiny, feral cannonball.
Ruggie wheezed. “WHY?!”
Cheka popped up, eyes sparkling. “I FOUND YOU AGAIN!”
Lilia grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “Cheka, darling, no-!”
Cheka wriggled free with the strength of a child powered by pure chaos. “I WANNA SEE THE ROMANCE!”
Ruggie choked. “The what??”
Cheka cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled directly at the window. “UNCLE LEO, ARE YOU KISSING THE DRAGON GUY AGAIN?”
Inside the lounge, Leona froze mid‑sentence. Malleus’s magic flared in a startled burst.
Leona’s eye twitched. “I’m going to strangle someone.”
Malleus whispered, mortified, “Leona… he is a child.”
“I’ll strangle Lilia instead.”
Outside, Lilia slapped a hand over Cheka’s mouth. “Cheka, sweetie, we talked about this!”
Cheka kicked wildly. “MMMPH! MMPH!”
Ruggie grabbed Cheka’s legs. “Hold him still! he’s gonna blow our cover!”
Lilia hissed, “We don’t HAVE a cover?!"
Sebek and Silver arrived at full sprint.
Sebek screamed, “YOUNG PRINCE, YOU MUST NOT INTERRUPT MY LORD’S SACRED ROMANTIC DEVELOPMENT!”
Silver grabbed him. “Sebek, please..”
Cheka broke free again. He sprinted toward the window. He leapt. He reached the sill, and Lilia snatched him mid‑air with the reflexes of a supernatural predator.
Cheka dangled upside‑down, screaming. “LET ME SEE! I WANNA SEE!!”
Lilia held him at arm’s length. “Absolutely not.”
Ruggie collapsed onto the grass. “I’m too young for this.”
Sebek saluted dramatically. “MASTER LILIA, YOU HAVE SAVED THE MOMENT!”
Silver sighed. “Please… please let’s go home.”
Lilia floated upward, Cheka still squirming in his grip. “Come along, everyone. We must retreat before Leona comes out here and commits a crime.”
Ruggie scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, I’m not sticking around for that.”
Sebek puffed up. “WE MUST PROTECT MY LORD!”
Silver dragged him away. “We must leave.”
Cheka screamed, “UNCLE LEOOOOOOO! I’LL COME BACK!!!”
“No you won’t,” Lilia said, vanishing in a swirl of sparkles.
Inside the lounge, Leona pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your family is a menace.”
Malleus sighed softly. “I know.”
Leona stepped closer, voice low. “But they’re your menace.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered, warm and bright. “Yes. They are.”
Leona smirked. “And you’re mine.”
Night settled over NRC like a soft blanket, the kind that muffled sound and slowed the world down. The chaos of the day, the spying, the screaming, the Cheka‑related acrobatic, had finally burned itself out. Even Lilia, who could stay awake for days without blinking, had succumbed to exhaustion and curled up in a floating hammock somewhere in Diasomnia.
Cheka was asleep too, sprawled across Ruggie like a starfish. Sebek had passed out mid‑sentence. Silver had fallen asleep standing up. Peace, real peace, had finally arrived. And Leona took advantage of it. He led Malleus out to the quiet courtyard behind Savanaclaw, where the lanterns burned low and the night breeze carried the scent of warm stone and distant grass. The sky above them was clear, stars scattered like silver dust.
Malleus tilted his head back, eyes reflecting the constellations. “It is beautiful tonight.”
Leona shrugged lightly. “It’s always like this here. You just never come out this way.”
Malleus glanced at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps I needed the right reason.”
Leona’s tail flicked once, the only sign he’d been caught off guard. “Hmph.”
They walked slowly, not in any rush, not needing to fill the silence. Malleus’s magic glowed faintly around him, soft and steady, like it had finally settled after a long day of being startled, flustered, and nearly detonated by Cheka.
Leona stopped near one of the stone benches and sat down, stretching his legs out. “Sit.”
Malleus did, not beside him, but close enough that their shoulders almost brushed. Close enough that Leona could feel the warmth radiating off him. For a while, they just sat there, listening to the wind rustle through the trees.
Then Malleus spoke, voice quiet. “I am… grateful for today.”
Leona raised an eyebrow. “Even with all the interruptions.”
Malleus huffed a soft laugh. “Especially with them. It reminded me that… I am not alone. Even when it is inconvenient.”
Leona leaned back on his hands. “You were never alone.”
Malleus looked down at his hands, thoughtful. “I know that now.”
The lantern light flickered across his face, softening the sharp lines, making him look younger, gentler. Leona watched him for a moment, the way his magic pulsed in time with his breathing, the way he relaxed more fully than Leona had ever seen.
“You’re different tonight,” Leona said quietly.
Malleus turned to him. “Different how.”
“Calmer,” Leona said. “Like you finally let yourself breathe.”
Malleus’s expression softened. “Perhaps I did.”
Leona didn’t move closer. He didn’t need to. The space between them was already warm, already full of something unspoken but understood.
Malleus looked up at the stars again. “Leona… may I ask something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you regret any of this.”
Leona snorted. “Not a bit.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered, a soft, glowing pulse that warmed the air around them.
“I am glad,” he whispered.
Leona glanced at him, voice low. “You tired.”
“A little.”
“Then stay here a while,” Leona said. “It’s quiet. No one’s gonna bother us.”
Malleus hesitated, then leaned just slightly toward him, enough that their shoulders brushed at last. His magic settled into a warm, steady glow.
“Then I will stay,” he murmured.
And they sat like that, close, quiet, comfortable, under the stars, long after the rest of the world had fallen asleep.
The sun rose slowly over Savanaclaw, warm and golden, slipping through the slats of the blinds in thin, soft stripes. The dorm was quiet. unusually quiet, as if even the rowdiest students sensed that today was not the day to start trouble. Inside Leona’s private lounge, the world was still. Malleus stirred first.
He blinked slowly, adjusting to the unfamiliar ceiling, the warm light, the faint scent of sun‑baked stone and desert herbs. For a moment, he didn’t move. He simply breathed, letting the quiet settle around him like a blanket. Then he turned his head. Leona was asleep in the armchair beside him, head tilted back, one arm draped lazily over the side, tail curled loosely around the base of the chair. He looked… peaceful. Softer than Malleus had ever seen him. The kind of sleep that only came when someone felt safe.
Malleus’s chest warmed. He remembered the night before, the quiet courtyard, the stars, the soft conversation that had stretched long past midnight. They had talked until the lanterns burned low, until Malleus’s magic dimmed with exhaustion, until Leona muttered, “You’re falling asleep on your feet. Sit down before you topple.”
Malleus had sat on the couch. Leona had taken the chair beside him. They had kept talking. And somewhere between one sentence and the next… they had drifted off. Malleus hadn’t meant to fall asleep here. But he wasn’t unhappy that he had.
He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the moment. The movement made Leona’s ear twitch, a small, instinctive flick, but he didn’t wake. Malleus watched him for a long, quiet moment, studying the way the morning light softened the sharp lines of his face. He looked… content. Malleus smiled.
A soft, sleepy voice broke the silence. “…You’re staring.”
Malleus startled. “I- I did not mean to wake you.”
Leona cracked one eye open. “You didn’t. I just know when someone’s looking at me.”
Malleus flushed faintly. “Ah.”
Leona stretched, muscles rolling under his shirt, tail flicking once before settling again. “You sleep alright.”
Malleus nodded. “Better than I expected.”
“Good.” Leona rubbed the back of his neck. “You looked tired.”
Malleus tilted his head. “And you stayed here.”
Leona shrugged. “Didn’t want you waking up alone in a place you’re not used to.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered, soft, warm, grateful. “Thank you.”
Leona waved a hand lazily. “Don’t get sappy on me.”
Malleus smiled. “I make no promises.”
Leona huffed a quiet laugh, the kind he only let slip when he wasn’t fully awake yet. He stood, stretching again, then offered Malleus a hand to help him up. Malleus hesitated only a moment before taking it. Their hands didn’t linger. They didn’t need to.
The warmth was enough.
Leona glanced toward the door. “We should get moving before the gremlin brigade wakes up.”
Malleus nodded. “A wise idea.”
They stepped out into the hallway together, quiet, steady, side by side, and for the first time, the morning felt like something new. Something gentle. Something promising. Something theirs.
The sun had fully risen by the time Leona and Malleus stepped out into the main courtyard. The world was waking slowly, birds calling, leaves rustling, the faint hum of students dragging themselves toward breakfast. But the two of them walked in a pocket of quiet, the kind that felt earned. Malleus walked close enough that their sleeves brushed now and then. Leona didn’t move away. Neither did he. It was… peaceful. A kind of peace neither of them got often.
They reached a quiet corner of the courtyard where the sunlight filtered through the trees in warm, golden patches. Malleus paused there, letting the light warm his face. Leona watched him for a moment, arms crossed loosely, tail flicking in a lazy rhythm.
“You look happy,” Leona said.
Malleus opened his eyes, soft and bright. “I am.”
Leona huffed. “Good.”
Malleus stepped closer, voice low. “Are you.”
Leona didn’t answer right away. He didn’t need to. The way he relaxed his shoulders, the way his tail curled slightly, the way he looked at Malleus, steady, warm, unguarded, said enough.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “I am.”
Malleus’s magic fluttered, soft as a heartbeat. They stood there in the morning light, not touching, not rushing, simply sharing the quiet. It felt like something new. Something gentle. Something that didn’t need to be spoken aloud to be understood.
Then, a distant scream echoed across the courtyard.
“UNCLE LEOOOOOOO!!”
Leona groaned. “Not again.”
Malleus sighed. “Cheka is awake.”
“Unfortunately.”
But before the tiny lion cub could come barreling into view, a pink‑and‑black blur swooped down from the sky. Lilia. He snatched Cheka mid‑sprint, lifting him into the air like a misbehaving kitten.
Cheka shrieked, “PUT ME DOWN! I WANNA SEE!”
“No you don’t,” Lilia said cheerfully, already floating away.
Leona pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your family is a menace.”
Malleus smiled softly. “They are.”
Leona glanced at him. “You’re worth it.”
Malleus’s breath caught. His magic glowed. He stepped closer, just enough that their shoulders brushed again, warm and steady.
“And so are you,” he said.
Leona’s tail flicked once, slow and content. They walked toward breakfast together, side by side, unhurried, unbothered, and for the first time, undeniably together.
Behind them, Lilia floated past with Cheka under one arm, Silver dragging Sebek by the collar, and Ruggie rubbing his temples like a man who had aged ten years overnight. But none of that mattered. Not right now. Right now, it was just Leona and Malleus, sharing a quiet morning and the beginning of something real. Something warm.