The curtains were half drawn, soft light spilling in across the carved wood floor.

On the sofa, Selvaria Nystovia lounged back like a queen, silver hair cascading in waves over her shoulders, her chest rising and falling with every lazy breath. Her robes clung tight, every curve showing. Her breasts strained against the fabric, heavy and full, the gold cross resting right between them.

On her lap, a girl lay with her head nestled against her mother's thighs.

Her only daughter. Elira Nystovia.

Elira's hair was long, pitch black with a silky shine, tumbling down her back in loose waves. Her nun dress fit too snug for modesty—the swell of her breasts stretched the fabric until seams creaked, her nipples faintly poking through whenever she shifted. Her hips curved wide, and the way she lay there made the shape of her butt stand out even more, pushing against the sofa.

Selvaria's fingers stroked through Elira's hair, slow and comforting.

"You're thinking of him again, aren't you?" Selvaria said, her voice low, teasing.

Elira's cheeks warmed instantly. "M-Mama…"

Selvaria smirked, nails lightly grazing her daughter's scalp. "Don't try to deny it, sweet girl. You've been asking about that boy since yesterday."

Elira looked away, lashes lowering. "I only… I just… wanted to know more. That's all."

Her mother chuckled, rich and smooth. Her breasts shifted as she leaned forward slightly, the robe pulling even tighter over her cleavage. "Aiden Nightshade… the boy who walked into the palace like fate itself had delivered him. Handsome. Strong. Dangerous. You should have seen the way he carried himself."

Elira bit her lip, hugging her mother's thigh closer, her own chest pressing up against Selvaria's leg.

"Tell me about him," she whispered.

Selvaria smiled knowingly. She let her hand glide down, caressing her daughter's cheek, thumb brushing the warm blush there.

"He's got wives already," she said softly. "More than one. All of them madly in love with him. The wolf girl never leaves his side. The goblin princess clings to him like he's her last breath. Father to a dragon girl. Then the wolf girl is pregnant with his child. The others—Arisha, Nyxion, Thristle, Vegia—each of them would die for him. He got a goblin little sister. His family is consist all kinds of races."

Elira swallowed hard. Her body shifted restlessly against the sofa, her breasts pressing harder against her dress. "W-wives…? That many?"

"Mmhm." Selvaria's lips curved. "And yet, even then… he has a way of making every woman feel like she's the only one."

Elira's heart thumped faster. She twisted slightly, black hair spilling across her mother's lap. "That sounds… unfair…"

"Or irresistible," Selvaria teased. "Don't pout, my love. It was him who saved the day today. With just love."

Her voice softened. "He stood there, smiling, shielding the ones he loved. That boy… he shines brighter than prophecy itself."

Elira's breath caught. Her thighs pressed together, the fabric of her nun dress stretching tighter. She hugged her mother's knee, cheeks burning hotter. "…He sounds… too good to be real."

Selvaria's smile deepened. She bent low, whispering near her daughter's ear. "He's real. And fate has already spoken of him, hasn't it?"

Elira blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Selvaria's hand stroked her daughter's hair slowly, deliberately. "Don't tell me you don't remember the prophecy about yourself?"

Elira froze. "M-me?"

"Yes, my sweet. The stars revealed it clearly." Selvaria's eyes gleamed with warmth, almost mischief. "That you… are destined to be his wife."

Elira shot up straight, face crimson, chest heaving against her tight dress. "Wh-what?! Mama—! Don't say it like that!"

Selvaria laughed, low and sultry, her breasts bouncing as she leaned back into the sofa. "Elira. The prophecy is true. You, my precious daughter, will one day belong to him."

Elira covered her face with both hands, shaking her head. Her body trembled, her breath uneven. "N-no… I… Mama…!"

Selvaria reached forward, prying her daughter's hands gently away from her face. She held her chin, lifting her head so their eyes met.

"You're blushing so beautifully," Selvaria whispered.

Elira squirmed, eyes wet, chest straining against her black habit with every nervous breath. "…D-did you tell him?" she finally asked, voice trembling.

Selvaria tilted her head, lips curving into a sly smile. "No. Not yet."

Her daughter let out a shaky breath, both relief and frustration flooding her face. She hugged her mother tightly, pressing her face against Selvaria's breasts, the soft weight enveloping her.

"…Good," Elira murmured, muffled. "Please don't…"

Selvaria laughed again, warm and playful, running her fingers down her daughter's back. "Why? Are you shy, my little nun? Or is it that you're already imagining it?"

Elira gasped, pulling back with wide, burning eyes. "M-Mama!"

Her mother only grinned wider. "Don't pretend with me. Your body is already reacting. The way your thighs press together, the way your lips tremble whenever I say his name."

Elira whimpered softly, unable to speak.

Selvaria leaned close, her silver hair brushing against Elira's cheek, her voice a husky tease. "You want him to touch you, don't you?"

Elira shook her head furiously, hiding her face again. "No! I-I don't—!"

Selvaria chuckled, pulling her close into her arms, her daughter's curves pressing tightly against her own. She kissed the top of Elira's head, whispering.

"You'll see, my love. Fate doesn't lie. One day… Aiden will be yours."

Elira pressed herself closer again, the soft warmth of her mother's chest pressing into her face, every rise and fall of Selvaria's breathing a rhythmic reassurance. She wrapped her arms tighter around Selvaria's waist, pressing her cheek fully into the gentle swell of her mother's robes. "…I like being close to you," she admitted, her voice muffled but sincere. "Even when… even when it's embarrassing."

Selvaria's hand moved slowly down Elira's back, fingers trailing in gentle, comforting strokes. Her other hand cupped the back of Elira's head, pressing her gently into the warmth of her chest. "I know, my love," she whispered. "And I love it. I love that you feel safe enough to cling to me. That you let yourself be held… even as an adult. You'll always be my little one, no matter what."

Elira sighed softly, curling her legs slightly to press herself more fully against her mother. The softness of Selvaria's robes, the heat of her body, and the gentle scent of silver hair and rose perfume wrapped around her like a cocoon. "…I feel… safe," she admitted, voice trembling with emotion.

"And that's exactly how it should be," Selvaria murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of Elira's head. Her fingers traced circles down her back in a slow, comforting rhythm. "Safe, warm… and loved. Always loved."

Elira let out a shaky breath, her arms tightening instinctively. "I… I don't want to move," she whispered.

"Then don't," Selvaria replied softly, her voice like silk, wrapping around her daughter's ears. "Stay here. Stay warm. Stay mine to hold a little longer."

They remained like that, quiet except for the gentle rustle of silk and the faint creak of the sofa. The world outside might have carried on, but in this golden, sunlit corner of the room, nothing existed but warmth, trust, and the soft, unbreakable bond between mother and child.

Selvaria leaned slightly, brushing a strand of silver hair across her daughter's cheek. "Do you remember the prophecy clearly?" she asked, playful teasing lacing her voice now. "About him… Aiden? That one day, you will be his wife?"

Elira pressed a hand to her chest, the fabric stretched slightly as she moved. "…I remember…" she murmured, voice trembling with excitement and uncertainty. "…And it scares me a little… and excites me…"

Selvaria chuckled, brushing the back of her daughter's hair gently. "That's natural, my sweet. It should make you feel both. Excitement, anticipation… maybe a little nervousness. It means you understand the weight of destiny. And I'll be here to hold you, to tease you, to remind you that no matter what happens, you're safe… always."

Elira tilted her head back slightly, looking up at her mother with wide, shining eyes. "I… I trust you, Mama. I always have."

"And I always will," Selvaria replied, voice low, playful, full of warmth. "No matter what happens, my love, you'll always have me to hold onto. Cling to. To tease… and to guide."

"Mama…" Elira called, her voice muffled.

"Yes, my love." Selvaria replied, her voice filled with motherly love.

"Do you think he will fall for me?" She asked, her voice soft, yet filled with something she doesn't understand.

"Of course, my sweet. You're beautiful. It would be am idiot who whould not fall for you." She replied, pressing her closer.

Elira buried her face deeper against her breast, breathing in the warmth and comfort, wrapping her arms tighter around her mother's waist. "I love you, Mama," she whispered.

Selvaria's lips curved into a gentle smile. "And I love you, my little one. More than words could ever say."

Elira's heart raced. Her face burned. And even as she buried herself deeper in her mother's embrace, her lips betrayed her with a trembling whisper.

"…Aiden…"

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END OF CHAPTER : 116 : OTHER PART OF THE PROPHECY!

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