Quinlan was already back in the stronghold when the echo of the call truly wore off.

Seraphiel stood under Rosie's brilliant tree with her arms folded. She looked at him without blinking.

"I cannot believe you were flirting," she said flatly, "with the woman who sent me to die."

Quinlan paused his next step halfway. "I was being polite. Calling the elven queen, known across the realms for her otherworldly beauty, beautiful is just a basic mannerism for a gentleman such as I."

The explanation didn't land. His gorgeous elf scoffed, turned her head, and stared very intently at the trunk of the fairy tale tree. "I am mad now."

The declaration came with all the severity of a girlfriend announcing a lifelong grudge. Her fingers curled tighter around her sleeve. Her foot tapped once, then again.

From nearby, Sylvaris cleared her throat.

"Prodigious Son," she said, tone immaculate and disapproving, "I disapprove."

Seraphiel nodded at once, pleased to have backup, and leaned slightly toward her mother. The two of them then shifted their attention in unison.

Their gazes landed on Kaelira.

She blinked when she noticed the scrutiny, then shook her head.

"There is no love lost between the queen and me, but I think I understand her position."

Seraphiel turned back slowly. Sylvaris raised a brow.

Kaelira's jaw set.

"If we are being honest, it is the insecure midgets who are the problem."

She exhaled through her nose.

Seraphiel looked at her sideways and sighed. Sylvaris followed a moment later.

The two elves exchanged a look that spoke a myriad of words. They both knew that Kaelira despised dwarves to an extreme degree, even for an elf. Her hatred was to the degree that Quinlan often jokingly called her the biggest racist toward the dwarven race.

The two serene elves understood, however. When the Alliance of Elvardia was formed, they introduced many laws that would serve to make this unlikely partnership work.

One of those laws was that elves were forbidden from smithing.

The elf queen at the time agreed to it without problem, knowing that her kind didn't care for it. However, Kaelira did.

As a result, she had to practice the art of smithing in secrecy, without having a master to guide her. She couldn't even go to a library to rent a book about the art of smithing.

This led to her becoming a raw gem, talented but lacking in proficiency compared to her peers in the field.

She ignored the law and was caught for it. Her sentence was conscription into the army, the same army Seraphiel was also conscripted to.

As a result, both were sacrificed with the early invasion attempt into Ravenshade.

However, while Seraphiel had her queen to blame, Kaelira felt it was the dwarves' fault. If not for their insecure rules forbidding her from chasing her dream, she never would've been conscripted.

That was where their differences stemmed from.

Quinlan stepped forward before the silence could thicken.

He closed the distance in one smooth motion and wrapped Seraphiel in his arms from behind, pulling her back against his chest. The contact was firm and unmistakable. Her shoulders tensed for half a breath, then settled. His chin brushed the top of her head. Both hands slid around her waist, fingers fitting easily at her hip as if they had always belonged there.

She inhaled sharply through her nose. "You are not fixing this with hugs and kisses, Quinlan."

"What can I do," he asked quietly, mouth near her ear, voice low, "to make you happy again?"

She scoffed, soft and annoyed in the way only she could manage. "There is nothing you can do."

"Come on," Quinlan murmured.

"Come on, what?" She turned her head just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye. "She even looks very similar to me. Just more ladylike. More refined. More graceful." Her lips pressed thin. "If you go after her, I might as well become the nanny of your children instead of your lover."

The words landed cleanly.

Understanding settled in all at once. Instead of his manner of speech with the queen, the real reason behind her attitude was the insecurity of a girlfriend.

She was a blonde, curvaceous elf like Myrasyn. Even their facial features were similar. But while she was a low-tier noble who was lacking in power to such a degree that she was conscripted, the other woman was, well… The one who wielded the power to conscript noble heirs into her army.

Queen Myrasyn was an extremely powerful woman, both on a personal and political level. It was she who defeated Queen Morgana nearly a century ago, forcing the madwoman to go into seclusion for decades.

Quinlan's arms tightened around his pouting elf's waist without hesitation, drawing her closer until there was no space left to doubt where she stood. His grip was possessive now, protective, his hands firm against her slender form.

"I do not want to hear such nonsense." His tone left no room for argument. "You are my bombshell of an elven DPS healer. You are the woman I adore. And you are not going anywhere."

She stilled.

He lowered his head and whispered straight into her ear so she had no choice but to hear him. "I refuse to let you go. Is that understood?"

"…Promise?" Seraphiel asked.

She turned fully then, facing him at last. Her eyes were bright, long lashes fluttering as she searched his face with open intensity, blinking rapidly as if afraid of what she might find. The way she looked at him in that moment made him pause. Once. Then again.

'I truly am loved by such a wonderful existence, hmm? What a blessed life…'

"I promise," he decreed.

Her hand lifted, brushing at her cheek as she wiped away the moisture gathering there. Then she stepped into him instead of away, arms sliding around his neck. She rose onto her toes and pulled him down.

The kiss was deep and needy, unguarded. She pressed close, holding him, anchoring herself, lips lingering with quiet urgency before finally pulling back just enough to breathe.

Seraphiel did not pull away.

She stayed close, forehead resting against his chest for a breath, then tilted her face up as if claiming her place there. Her hands tightened at his collar.

Quinlan spoke while she was still nestled against him.

"I am truly not going after that woman. I spoke that way because I wanted a little goodwill before telling them I am leaving the battlefield for who knows how long. I hoped it would soften the impact."

Indeed. Merely being beautiful wasn't enough for Quinlan. If it were, he'd have a harem of thousands of women by now. More than a horndog, he was a hopeless romantic. At least so he decreed.

Furthermore, Myrasyn had some questions to answer before he even considered her.

Her long ears flicked, listening.

"It sounded like they lost resources because of me as well," he added. "So I believe it was the correct call. Even if it only mattered a little."

She studied him for a heartbeat longer, then rose onto her toes and kissed him again.

This one was slower at first, deliberate. Her body pressed fully into his, familiar and warm, fitting without adjustment. Quinlan's hands steadied at her waist, holding her there as if she might drift otherwise.

As they kissed, his gaze slid sideways.

Sylvaris stood a short distance away, watching without intruding. Her expression was composed, but her eyes softened just enough to give her away.

"You are good…" she muttered.

Quinlan caught her eye and winked.

She huffed softly with the corner of her mouth lifting before she turned her head aside, granting them privacy without actually leaving.

The moment she looked away, Quinlan's hands moved into action.

They found his favorite hold without hesitation, palms settling firmly on Seraphiel's perky butt, gripping tightly. She made a small sound into the kiss and leaned into him harder, approving rather than surprised.

The kiss stretched on, unhurried and unapologetic, not caring who might've seen them. Both were shameless people.

They pulled apart just enough to breathe.

Seraphiel was still close, hands lingering at his collar, when a blur of motion cut in from the side.

"Mine!"

Vex was suddenly there, arms wrapping around Quinlan's neck with possessive urgency. Her eyes were sharp and bright, pupils wide as she leaned up on her toes without waiting for permission or an invitation.

"I need one too," she said, voice tight and sweet all at once. "Right now."

Seraphiel blinked, then laughed under her breath and stepped aside, shaking her head as if this outcome had been inevitable.

Vex did not waste the opening.

She kissed him with impatient insistence, lips pressing hard.

<No kissing for a week, huh, wifey?> Quinlan sent calmly through the link.

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