The bath left them both damp and flushed, skin still warm from the steam and the unfinished tension hanging thick between them. Nephis dismissed the lingering haze of arousal with the same iron control she applied to everything else. She summoned the Starlight Legion Armor first—silver plates flowing over her wet body like liquid mercury. The metal clung immediately, adhering to her damp skin in a way that made every curve feel more pronounced, the faint sheen of water and residual pomegranate-scented slick trapped beneath. Droplets beaded on the outer surface before sliding away, but inside… the warmth of Sunny's earlier spend still lingered, shifting with each breath she took.
Sunny followed suit a heartbeat later. His own armor—dark, black-silken cloth edged in bright sparks-materialized over his still-damp frame. The fabric-like sections stuck to his chest and thighs, outlining every lean muscle, while the scent of pomegranate clung to him like a second skin.
Neither spoke as they left the room. The corridor was mercifully empty; the dinner bell had already rung, and most guests were already in the hall.
The dining hall of the Bright Castle was grand in scale yet austere in design—high vaulted ceilings supported by plain white columns, long wooden tables arranged in orderly rows, iron chandeliers burning with pale, cold flames. No banners, no excessive ornamentation. Just function. Hundreds of Sleepers filled the space—some in ragged cloaks, others in mismatched armor—eating in near-silence. Conversation was low, guarded. Eyes flicked toward newcomers, then quickly away. No one acknowledged them. No one wanted trouble.
Sunny and Nephis joined the line at the serving counter without a word.
When their turn arrived, a cute brunette with freckles across her nose and a sly smile leaned over the steaming pots. She ladled a portion of thick stew onto Nephis's plate first—standard helping, a chunk of meat floating in thick stew—then turned to Sunny.
Her eyes flicked over him, lingering. She winked—quick, playful—then scooped an obviously larger portion onto his plate: extra meat, a bigger ladle of thick stew, even a chunk of bread tucked on the side.
Nephis's eyes narrowed a fraction.
Her own portion was smaller, almost insultingly so.
Nephis's silver gaze sharpened.
Without a flicker of expression she reached across, swapped the plates in one smooth motion, and set the smaller portion in front of Sunny.
The brunette groaned, loud and theatrical. "Aw, come on! I was being nice!"
Sunny stared at the now-modest plate in front of him, then at Nephis.
They stepped away from the counter together, walking toward the far end of the hall.
He leaned in close as they moved, voice a low, teasing whisper against her ear.
"You're jealous of a wink and some extra stew?" His lips curved. "Better mix some of my sauce with it later, princess. Wouldn't want you going hungry."
Nephis didn't reply. Didn't even glance at him.
But the faintest flush crept up her throat, barely visible under the high collar of her armor.
They claimed the darkest corner table—half-hidden behind a thick pillar, shadows pooling thick around it. The bench was cold stone. The hall's clamor felt distant here.
Sunny set his plate down and slid in beside her, thigh pressed to thigh beneath the table.
Nephis stared straight ahead, spoon in hand, expression serene as ever.
But under the table, her knee nudged his—once, deliberate.
A silent promise.
Dinner had only just begun.
The dining hall thrummed with low, guarded conversation—forks scraping stone plates, murmured deals being struck in corners, the occasional sharp laugh cut short by someone remembering where they were. In the darkest nook, half-hidden behind a thick pillar where the floating braziers barely reached, Nephis sat with perfect posture, silver hair catching faint yellow light like frost on steel. Beside her, Sunny slouched just enough to look casual, but every line of his body was coiled tight, eyes never leaving her face.
She lifted the spoon toward her lips—stew still steaming, the larger portion she'd claimed from the freckled brunette.
Sunny leaned in before the spoon could touch her mouth.
His thigh pressed hard against hers under the table, armor plates clicking softly. His voice dropped to a breath against the shell of her ear.
"Unsummon your panties."
Nephis froze for half a heartbeat.
Then she turned her head just enough for their eyes to meet—hers cold silver, his mismatched and burning.
"Panties don't come with the Memory," she said quietly, perfectly even.
Sunny blinked.
Processed.
Realization hit like a slap.
She hadn't been wearing anything underneath the Starlight Legion Armor the entire time.
Not in the slums.
Not in the registry hall.
Not during dinner line.
Not now.
His cock jerked hard against the tight confines of his own armor. He swallowed once, throat working, then leaned closer until his lips brushed the sensitive skin just below her ear.
"So the oh-so-proud Changing Star of the Immortal Flame…" His voice was velvet and venom, "…wasn't wearing panties all along."
Nephis's hand moved under the table faster than thought.
Fingers closed around the thick ridge of his erection through the armor and squeezed—hard.
Pain lanced up Sunny's spine. His breath punched out in a silent wheeze. The grip was merciless, unyielding, her strength channeled with surgical precision. He couldn't yelp, couldn't moan—the hall was too full of eyes and ears. All he could do was grip the edge of the table until his knuckles whitened, body rigid, sweat breaking along his hairline.
Nephis didn't look at him.
She stared straight ahead, spoon still hovering near her lips, expression serene as a saint.
But beneath the table her fingers tightened another fraction—enough to make black spots dance at the edges of his vision.
She was already furious.
The brunette's wink. The extra portion. The blatant flirtation right in front of her. And now this—Sunny daring to degrade her, to mock her composure while she sat here burning from the inside out, thighs slick, cunt throbbing from the denied release in the bath. The sexual frustration she'd locked down with iron will was boiling over, mixing with possessive rage until she could barely think.
Sunny's free hand—trembling slightly—slid under the table toward her crotch.
Even through the seamless plates of the Starlight Legion Armor he could feel the heat radiating from her core, fierce enough to warm the metal.
His fingers pressed.
Found wetness.
A slow, obscene slide of slick against the inner seam of the greaves.
"How are you so freakin wet?" he breathed, voice cracking despite the pain still radiating from his trapped cock.
Nephis didn't answer.
She simply held his gaze for three long seconds—expressionless, regal, terrifying.
Then Sunny's brain caught up.
The bath. The refusal to dry off. The deliberate walk across the room leaving wet footprints. The way she'd let the cloudy cum-water cling to her skin, drip down her legs, soak into the armor lining.
His eyes widened.
An imaginary light bulb snapped on behind his head.
"So, the reason you didn't dry yourself…" he whispered, realization dawning like horror and lust in equal measure, "…was because you were so wet I'd realize."
The grin started to form—cocky, triumphant, stupid.
He regretted it instantly.
Nephis's grip turned vicious.
Pain exploded white-hot through his groin. His vision tunneled. His mouth opened on a silent scream he couldn't release—not here, not with a hundred Sleepers within earshot. Tears actually pricked the corners of his eyes. His free hand shot under the table, grabbing her wrist, but he didn't dare pull—only hold on like a drowning man.
Nephis finally took the first bite of stew.
Chewed slowly.
Swallowed.
Then she leaned in, lips brushing his temple in what could have been mistaken for affection from across the hall.
"Keep talking," she murmured, so soft only he could hear, "and I'll make sure you can't walk to bed tonight."
Her fingers eased—just enough for blood to return in painful, throbbing waves.
Sunny slumped forward, forehead nearly touching the table, breathing in shallow, ragged pulls.
Under the table, Nephis's thigh pressed against his—warm, deliberate, a silent reminder.
She took another bite.
The hall chattered on around them.
And in their shadowed corner, the tension between them coiled tighter than ever.