Lord Azron returned to the government office to continue with his pending work. The corridors were silent, shadows stretching long under the dim light, the stillness wrapping around him like something familiar—yet tonight, it felt…different.
As he was scanning through the scrolls, his eyes moving over each line with practiced discipline, he remembered what Sera told him as he was leaving her house. The look in her eyes lingered in his memory…clear, unwavering, disarmingly sincere.
Then he thought about her sacrifice in saving Grand Ersi and his mother, and his suspicion toward her lowered down…almost gone.
He continued on with his work, forcing his focus onto the scrolls, though his mind betrayed him, drifting back to her more often than he allowed himself to admit. He didn't notice the night had deepened, time slipping past quietly.
He didn't feel sleepy at all.
Not even a trace of fatigue touched him.
He rolled the scroll and was surprised that he was able to finish all his pending work. It was the first time that he was able to do so without feeling exhausted or restless, his mind sharp, his body alert in a way that felt unfamiliar.
Then he remembered the tea he had at Sera's house.
That strange, bitter drink.
The way it lingered.
It must have been it.
And yet… something told him it wasn't just that.
THREE DAYS LATER
Sera stretched her arms inside her room, her muscles pulling tight as soreness spread through her body, a deep, satisfying ache from days of relentless training.
The days of practicing in the military grounds made her body sore since it has been a long time since she was able to exercise so hard, every movement reminding her of how much she had pushed herself.
Her gaze drifted to her new armor.
The armor stood beside her, fitted now to her form, no longer overwhelming her frame. It had taken three days to prepare since it was initially too big for her. General Wang had to bring an armourer to make some adjustments, reshaping it carefully until it matched her movements.
She was about to lie down, her body craving rest—
When she heard another movement outside.
Her senses sharpened instantly, alertness cutting through her exhaustion.
She took her robe again and peeked in the gazebo.
The familiar figure made her scoff, though something softer flickered beneath the reaction, something she refused to acknowledge.
Again? What is he doing here?
She opened the door and stepped outside the garden. Her confusion made her not take another step forward and just look at the man sitting down the gazebo, her brows slightly furrowed, her posture guarded—but not entirely distant.
Azron looked at her standing still with her eyebrows slightly furrowed, his gaze steady, almost expectant, as if he already knew she would come.
"I'm here for tea." He said.
She immediately understood.
Coffee.
She turned without another word and headed back inside, though her lips pressed together, holding back the urge to react.
Was he addicted to caffeine? She thought as she opened a packet, the familiar scent grounding her as she prepared it.
She returned to the gazebo and handed him the coffee. She stared at him as he emptied the mug, her eyes tracing the way his fingers held it, the way he drank without hesitation now, as if this small ritual had already become something natural between them.
Then he stood up.
"Thank you." He said and leaped on the wall.
Gone.
As quickly as he came.
The scene shocked Sera, her body remaining still for a moment, her mind struggling to catch up.
"What just happened?" She asked herself as she went to the kitchen. She crossed her arms and stared blankly at the mug on the table, the faint warmth still lingering against her fingertips.
I introduced him to caffeine and now he is addicted. Don't tell me he'll keep doing this every night?
And she was not wrong.
The next night, she was awakened by another movement outside. The sound, once alarming, now carried a strange familiarity—almost expected.
She peeked on the gazebo again and saw Azron.
Of course.
Without hesitation, she immediately prepared coffee and went to him in the gazebo, her movements slower this time, weighed down by sleep.
Azron stared at her half opened eyes, her expression soft and unguarded, her usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. Her hair was slightly messy, strands falling loosely around her face. Her robe hung carelessly, barely secured, revealing glimpses of her sleepwear beneath.
Something about the sight held him still for a moment longer than he intended.
She handed him the mug.
Azron was about to take it but she held back her hand.
He paused, his gaze shifting to her face.
She sat down to face him, forcing herself to stay awake, her eyes narrowing slightly despite her drowsiness.
"This is coffee. It's best to be taken in the morning, to keep you alert. Having this regularly at night will disrupt your sleep. It's not healthy." She lectured him, her tone serious, though softened by fatigue.
But without a word, Azron took the mug in her hand, his fingers brushing lightly against hers.
The contact was brief. But it lingered.
A quiet, unexpected warmth.
He started drinking the coffee.
The familiar bitterness spread through him, followed by that sharp clarity he had begun to crave. It settled deep in his chest, steadying something within him that he couldn't quite name.
A faint satisfaction crossed his face. While Sera looked at him with concern painted in her face.
Concern not for his health—
But because she was worried he might do this often. Disrupting her sleep.
Sera leaned her face against her palms as Azron enjoyed his coffee. She was so drowsy that her head kept on falling from her hand, her body slowly surrendering to exhaustion.
Her head dipped.
Lifted.
Then dipped again.
"You can leave. Go sleep." Azron said, his voice quieter now, softer than usual, almost careful.
"Can I?" She answered with her eyes almost shut, her voice low and fragile with sleep.
Azron nodded.
Sera stood up and walked slowly towards the door, her steps unsteady, her robe shifting with her movement, the soft fabric catching the moonlight as she disappeared inside.
While Azron's eyes followed her.
Unwavering.
Lingering.
Longer than necessary.
He looked at the moon and smiled, the expression faint, almost imperceptible—but real.
The truth was it's not just the coffee that made him always come to her house.
It was her presence.
For the long time that she was working for him, somehow gave him peace that he couldn't explain, something quiet and unfamiliar settling within him whenever she was near.
He was used to her presence. And her absence in the government office made the place extremely quiet. Too quiet. An emptiness he had not noticed before—until now. The kind of quietness he was not used to anymore.
Sera was the first person that ever looked at him differently. Everyone in Mort City looks at him with hopeful eyes, like their safety was always entrusted to him, their expectations pressing onto him constantly, heavy and unyielding. Having to bear everyone's hopes on his shoulders. He was afraid he may not be able to carry those hopes up.
But with Sera—
Even for a moment—
He forgets that burden. Every time she looked at him, her eyes were not filled with the same intent like the others.
No expectation. No demand.
He doesn't understand it but with her, he doesn't feel burdened. He feels at ease. Even though he keeps on telling himself not to trust her and to be wary—
His heart feels the opposite.
And that quiet pull toward her was far more dangerous than any blade he had ever faced.
Azron leaned and looked at the house, his figure partially hidden in the shadows beyond the garden.
His eyes searched the walls, the windows—watching for any sign of movement. Checking for her shadow, if she really was asleep.
The house was bright, candlelight flickering faintly through the thin panels. She must've left the candles lit.
A subtle crease formed between his brows.
Careless.
Or… too comfortable.
He straightened slowly, then stepped forward. Each step was measured as he walked toward the door, his presence blending with the stillness of the night. It wasn't locked.
Of course it wasn't.
He pushed it open just enough to slip inside.
He stepped in without a sound, his senses sharpening instantly. His eyes carefully observed the interior of the house, scanning every corner, every shadow, every detail that didn't belong—or perhaps revealed more than it should. The faint scent of something unfamiliar lingered in the air, something soft… something that reminded him of her.
Then he checked the kitchen. He saw the packets of the coffee and picked one up, turning it between his fingers. The material felt foreign. The writings on it were unfamiliar, symbols he couldn't decipher no matter how long he looked at them. His eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity sharpening into quiet suspicion.
What kind of world produces something like this?
He returned the packet, slower this time, more thoughtful. Then he continued checking the other parts of the house, his steps silent, controlled, until he arrived at the door of Sera's room.
It was quiet inside. Too quiet.
Is she really sleeping?
He stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his hand hovering near the door, as if weighing something unseen. Then he carefully slid the door open, inch by inch, trying not to make a sound. The wood shifted softly under his touch, barely audible.
The door was a little small for his height, forcing him to lower his head slightly as he stepped inside the room. The air inside was warmer, still, carrying the faint scent of her.
But as he straightened his head back—
Sera was already sitting on her bed, looking at him. Her eyes were wide open. Alert and clear. As if she had been awake all along.
The suddenness of it struck him harder than expected. He was surprised at her that he took a step back, his body reacting before his thoughts could catch up, his usual composure slipping for just a fraction of a second.
"Uhmm…I was just…" He tried to explain his intrusion, his voice lower than usual, almost caught. A man entering a girl's room in the middle of the night was inappropriate. Even he knew that.
But he was stopped by Sera.
"It's just you. I thought it was someone else." She said as she rubbed her eyes, her voice thick with sleep, her tension dissolving instantly the moment she recognized him.
Without hesitation, without fear, she returned back to lie down on the bed, turning slightly to her side.
"I won't..give you..another coffee." She mumbled, her words barely formed as sleep pulled her back under, her breathing evening out almost immediately.
Azron was speechless. He stood there, unmoving. Watching her.
He thought she'll be angry. Shocked. Defensive. That she would feel violated by his presence. But she really just ignored him. And went back to sleep. As if he wasn't a threat. As if he never could be.
Something about that unsettled him more than resistance would have.
He walked near her, slower now, almost hesitant without realizing it. His gaze lingered on her longer, drawn despite himself. Her hair spread loosely over the pillow, her expression softened by sleep, stripped of the sharpness she carried during the day.
She was… unguarded.
Completely.
She was used to sleeping in the government office while Azron was working so having him in her house while she slept does not bother her at all. There was no tension in her body, no awareness of danger. Plus she was really tired, too exhausted to care, too used to his presence to be disturbed by it.
That familiarity and that quiet acceptance—
It pulled at something in him he couldn't name.
Azron's eyes traced her features for a moment longer than they should. The rise and fall of her breathing. The softness of her lips as she murmured in sleep. The way the candlelight touched her skin, making it glow faintly in the dim room.
He looked away. Too aware. Too conscious.
Azron looked around her room and noticed her things on the table. His attention shifted, grounding himself. He stared at it, his brows furrowing slightly. Her things were weird and unfamiliar, objects that didn't belong to this world, each one carrying a quiet mystery.
Then he remembered checking her luggages when he first brought her inside Mort City to check for anything dangerous. The memory surfaced clearly—him opening each piece, examining everything with suspicion.
But everything was unfamiliar to them. Nothing made sense. Nothing fit.
So he just kept her things inside Mort government storage, locked away where no one could question them. After some time he forgot about it, until Sera requested to have her own house outside the mansion. He thought returning her things might make her make a move that could uncover what she really was.
A calculated risk.
But now—
Standing here—
It felt different.
Where did you come from? He asked himself as he glanced at Sera and the weird objects on her table, his gaze moving slowly between the unfamiliar items and her sleeping figure.
And for a brief moment—
The question didn't feel as urgent as before.
He stepped outside her room and blew the candles out, one by one, the flames flickering before disappearing into darkness. The house dimmed, shadows settling into every corner, wrapping the space in quiet.
Then he sat down in a chair in the west room. The place was so peaceful. Too peaceful. The kind of stillness he wasn't used to. Yet somehow, it didn't feel uncomfortable.
His body relaxed without permission, the tension he carried constantly easing just enough. And before he realized it, he drifted to sleep.