The wheat fields swayed gently as Zenith walked home that afternoon, each golden stalk brushing her skirt like a quiet reminder.
Her legs still carried the pleasant ache from the encounter—thighs faintly sticky beneath her clothes, ass warm from Mike's firm slaps, the deep satisfaction between her legs a secret she tucked away with practiced ease.
She slipped into the Greyrat house through the back door, moving with her usual graceful calm, as though nothing at all had changed.
The familiar scents wrapped around her: fresh bread cooling on the counter, Rudeus's scattered papers on the table, the faint trace of Paul's pipe tobacco.
This was their home. The one she had helped build after leaving her old life behind.
Zenith paused in the bedroom doorway and let her eyes rest on the small Milis shrine in the corner—a modest wooden pedestal with the ivory statue of the Goddess, serene and unchanging, one hand raised in blessing.
She closed the door softly, then knelt before it without haste.
The candle she had lit that morning still burned with a steady flame.
Zenith folded her hands in her lap, back straight, ponytail neat, and spoke in the same gentle, airy voice she used when tucking Rudeus into bed or healing a neighbor's scraped knee.
"Goddess Milis… Holy Mother of Light and Purity," she murmured, eyes half-lidded in quiet reverence. "I come before You again. I know I have strayed from the path I swore to walk."
No tears came. Only a soft sigh as the weight of it settled in her chest—a steady, familiar guilt, not a storm.
She remembered being twelve in the grand Millis cathedral, white robes crisp, kneeling beside her mother while the high priest spoke of sacred vows. "The wife who remains faithful walks in light forever."
She remembered her wedding night here in Buena, Paul's gentle hands, the happiness that had filled her so completely she had knelt right here afterward and thanked the Goddess for giving her a man worth loving despite his flaws. "I will never betray this gift," she had whispered then.
Now she whispered something different.
"I broke my vow, Goddess. Not once, but again and again. I went to him willingly. I knelt for him. I took him into my mouth and swallowed what belonged only to my husband. And when he took me from behind… I enjoyed it. The fullness, the strength, the way my body opened for him so easily." Her cheeks warmed at the memory, but she did not look away from the statue. "Paul is trying so hard to make things right after Lilia. He brings me flowers. He plays with Rudeus. And I repay him by hiding this."
She thought of her son—brown hair bright in the sunlight, eyes so sharp and trusting. "Rudeus still looks at me like I am the safest place in the world. How would he feel if he knew?"
The thought pinched, but she kept her voice steady. "And Lilia carries Paul's child now. I was angry once, yet here I am doing the same thing in secret."
Zenith's fingers brushed the Milis pendant at her throat, cool metal against warm skin. "The scriptures say the unfaithful wife walks in darkness. That her blessings may wither. I wonder if my healing magic will one day fail because of this. Or if harm will come to my family because I have tainted our home."
She let the worry sit for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "I know I deserve consequence. But I also know You are merciful to those who truly wish to return."
She stayed on her knees a long while, the quiet of the room wrapping around her like a shawl.
The Goddess did not answer. The flame simply flickered on, patient and steady, the way it always had.
Eventually Zenith rose, joints a little stiff, and washed herself carefully at the basin—scrubbing every trace of Mike from her skin with plain soap and cool water.
She dressed in her everyday clothes, tied her hair neatly, and lit a second candle for good measure.
When Paul came home dusty from training and Rudeus bounded in with stories of water-ball practice, she greeted them with the same warm smile she always wore.
Dinner was simple and cheerful. She helped Rudeus with his letters, listened to Paul's hunting stories, and kissed his cheek when he yawned and headed to bed early.
Later, lying beside him in the dark, the Milis pendant resting between her breasts, Zenith stared at the ceiling beams.
The guilt was still there, a quiet companion in her chest. She had meant every word of her prayer. She truly wanted to stop.
But as her fingers traced idle circles on her thigh beneath the sheets, the memory of Mike's strong hands and thick cock stirred again—gentle, insistent, warm. A small, secret smile touched her lips in the darkness.
'Just one more time,: she thought, the denial soft and familiar now. 'To say a proper goodbye. Then I will truly return to the path.'
The Goddess's statue in the corner kept its silent watch. And Zenith Greyrat, warm-hearted healer and devoted mother, closed her eyes, the craving nestled beside the guilt like an old friend she was not yet ready to part with.
—
A/N: A bit short, not really a sex scene but showing her thoughts about this instead.