The glow of the mana crystals lining the stone walls hadn't changed, but Noel could feel it — morning had come.

Warmth pressed gently against his chest.

He blinked a few times, then looked down.

Elyra was curled on top of him, one arm wrapped around his torso, her leg draped over his. Her black hair, still loose from the night before, spilled over his shoulder and collarbone like silk. Her breathing was calm, steady. Asleep… or pretending.

"…Hey," he murmured softly, brushing a few strands of hair from her cheek.

Her eyes opened.

And with that familiar calm confidence, she gave him a sleepy smile and whispered:

"Good morning… my husband."

Noel blinked. "…Did we skip the wedding?"

Elyra chuckled, a low, amused sound against his chest. "It's coming soon."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's not how it usually works."

"Since when have I cared about the usual?" she said, lifting her head slightly to look at him. Her gray eyes sparkled in the faint light. "Besides… you're already mine."

Noel smiled faintly. "You're not even denying it."

"I'm not," she said, shifting slightly atop him, her hand resting against his chest. "And you're not complaining."

He let out a breath. "Not even a little."

The sheets around them were slightly wrinkled and, in one corner, faintly stained — evidence of the night they'd just shared. Noel didn't comment on it. Not out of discomfort… but because there was nothing to say. It had happened. Naturally. Gently. And it was theirs.

Elyra pressed her forehead to his. "You're warm," she murmured.

"You're heavy," he replied, teasing.

She smirked and leaned in to kiss his jaw. "And you're soft when you're happy. I like that."

Noel's arms slid around her waist, holding her there for a little longer — no rush, no duties for now, just the quiet warmth between them buried deep beneath the mountain.

Elyra eventually rolled to his side, though she kept her hand resting over his chest, fingers trailing faint patterns over his skin.

Noel turned slightly to face her, one arm tucked beneath his head. For a moment, they didn't speak. Just the soft flicker of mana light against the stone walls and the slow rhythm of shared breathing.

"…How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

Elyra blinked, then followed his gaze — to the faint trace of dried blood still clinging to one of the sheets near her thigh.

Her expression didn't falter.

"Tender," she said honestly. "But I don't regret it."

Noel gave a small nod. "I figured. Just… wanted to be sure."

She reached out, brushing her fingers across his cheek. "You were careful. And… I wanted it to be with you." Her voice softened. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he said. His fingers found hers, holding them. "I know."

Silence fell again, but this time it was filled with something fuller.

Elyra looked at him sideways. "You're quiet."

Noel let out a quiet breath. "Just thinking."

"About?"

He hesitated, then smiled faintly. "How strange this world is sometimes."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Regret it?"

"No," he said. "Never."

Elyra smirked and rested her head on his shoulder again. "Good. Because you're not getting rid of me now."

"I never wanted to."

Noel sat on the edge of the bed, shirt now loosely draped over his shoulders. Elyra, still in her nightgown, was brushing her hair casually at the small mirror embedded into the stone wall.

"Noel," she asked with a playful glance over her shoulder, "Have you done this with Charlotte and Elena too?"

He blinked, surprised. "What? No, you are my first time."

A satisfied smirk curled on her lips. "Good. So I'm the first in this too."

Noel rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks warm. "Yeah. You are."

Elyra turned around, hands resting lightly on her hips. "Good. I like being first."

He smiled despite himself, standing up and walking closer. "Listen… I need to ask you something."

"Hmm?" she tilted her head.

"I need you to take Charlotte to this place," Noel said, handing her a folded note. "It's Nicolas's office. Right after my match, no matter what happens—go there. It's important."

Elyra took the note and gave him a knowing smile. "So you do need us after all."

He smiled faintly, scratching the back of his head. "I always did. Just… didn't want to drag anyone into this if it wasn't necessary."

"Well, too late for that," she said.

Elyra stood near the door, her crimson nightwear still clinging to her like silk-stitched defiance. She pulled the key from the inside lock — the one she'd used to make sure no one could barge in during the night — and held it between two fingers, glancing over her shoulder.

"I'll see you later, my husband," she teased, voice low but warm.

Noel, now half-dressed, pulled his dark shirt over his torso and raised an eyebrow. "We're really going with that title now, huh?"

She winked. "I don't see anyone else waking up in your bed."

With that, Elyra slipped the key into her palm, opened the door just enough, and stepped out into the hallway. The sound of her bare feet against the stone faded quickly.

Noel exhaled, then glanced at the crumpled bedsheets, the lingering scent of cherry blossoms still in the air.

'Alright… time to talk to Nicolas.'

He moved calmly but deliberately, equipping his usual outfit piece by piece.

Noel stepped out of the lodging hall, the stone doors closing quietly behind him. The cool air inside the mountain struck his face as he walked down the arched corridor, boots echoing against polished stone. He adjusted the collar of his navy-blue coat, Revenant Fang secured at his left hip, and glanced once toward the mana-lit ceiling above.

When he reached the open passage leading outside, the world shifted.

The massive entrance of Tharvaldur's Grand Arena loomed ahead — carved into the side of the mountain like the maw of some slumbering beast. Even from this distance, the sounds were unmistakable: the hum of excited chatter, the shuffle of boots, the distant voices of vendors and announcers warming up their voices.

Crowds were already flooding in from every direction all converging on the stone staircases and terraces that led into the coliseum.

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