Phong had made a mistake.
Not a tactical one.
Not a political one.
A romantic one.
He had promised "princess treatment" without explaining which fairy tale.
More importantly...
Without explaining when it began.
He had pictured something simple.
Carrying her bridal-style to bed like in those Disney Movies.
Soft laughter.
Slow kisses.
Gentle music.
Magical moments.
A sweet, storybook kind of night.
He did carry her like a princess.
That part went exactly as imagined.
She even looped her arms around his neck and smiled at him like the heroine of a wholesome romance novel.
Then the novel changed genres.
Because what followed was not the beginning of a fairy tale.
It was three years into the marriage.
And Alex wasn't your Snow White or Aurora type either. She was Mulan... who just happened to be a freaking Jedi.
Confident.
Passionate.
Completely unfair to a level 1 farmer.
Alexandra Vogel, Arbiter Mindblade, A-class diver, battlefield horror...
Was very enthusiastic.
Phong learned that when Alex had fury earlier in the day, it did not vanish.
It redirected.
Into energy.
A lot of it.
He tried to keep up.
He really did.
At first it was manageable.
Then athletic.
Then borderline Olympic.
By the time the final stretch came, he was checking his status window in his head like a man staring at the last one percent battery on his phone.
Stoic Garlic.
Consumed.
Defense up.
Stamina recovered.
Still not enough.
Turns out, buffing a wet noodle's defense by 20% gets you al dente pasta at best. He'd need Kevlar-level durability to survive the sniper bullet named Alexandra Vogel.
Phong tried to grasp at the bedsheet to steel himself.
His fingers brushed against a certain fruit instead.
Berserking Strawberry.
He hesitated for half a second.
Then bit.
Overdrive activated.
Double all stats for one minute.
He felt it at once.
Strength.
Stamina.
Coordination.
Everything surged.
For the first time in his life, Phong stats had approached that of a goblin.
He made it through the final burst of momentum.
And then—
Collapsed beside her, panting.
Waiting.
For the crash.
One full day of extreme weakness.
That was the price.
He braced for it.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Thirty.
A full minute passed.
Nothing.
He blinked.
Checked again.
Still the same.
He stared at the ceiling.
Then weakly facepalmed.
"Oh."
Alex rolled onto her side and propped herself on one elbow.
"What?"
He groaned.
"My default state already counts as extreme weakness to the system."
She stared at him.
Then burst into laughter.
Not cruel.
Just completely helpless with it.
She leaned over and poked his ribs.
"You know wars would be fought over the kind of buff those strawberries give, right? And you just used it as what? Viagra?"
He turned his head slowly and looked at her with full deadpan.
"I was fighting for my life."
She bit her lip to stop another laugh.
Then leaned down and lightly bit his ear instead.
Soft.
Teasing.
"I know you enjoyed it too."
He didn't deny it.
Couldn't.
Didn't want to.
Outside, Rico was whispering way too loudly.
"Operation Eardrop commencing."
Nyx and Bruno crouched near the tent flap like the worst spies alive.
Bruno's tail wagged uncontrollably.
Nyx kept shushing him with increasing anger.
Rico squinted with fake drama.
"I sense… stamina depletion. Farmer return to zombie mode again."
A vine snapped out of nowhere.
Bonktato.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
All three yelped at once.
"Retreat! Retreat!"
They scattered like guilty children.
Inside the tent, Alex smirked faintly.
"Your camp security is efficient."
"Living with those hyperactive animals? Has to," Phong muttered.
A few minutes later, the animals came back to protest loudly.
"Unfair!"
"You didn't bring us to the fight!"
"You hog all the action!"
"Camp leader and lady both same!"
"Two peas in a pod!"
Phong ignored them completely.
He was too busy staring at the canvas ceiling and thinking about logistics instead of romance.
If things went bad...
If Olen escalated again...
He might need Séline and Camille to handle resource runs for a while.
They were mobile.
Trusted.
Able to move between floors without suspicion.
And Halloween was coming.
Surface distractions were useful.
A public vacation in Lyon?
Not the worst idea.
Séline and Camille were already back.
The French divers had a foothold near La Montagne des Chèvres.
If the whole camp traveled by dungeon route instead of commercial flight, the media would never know.
He pictured it for a moment.
Dominic confused by French pastries.
Janet judging European coffee.
Rico trying to negotiate cheese trades.
Nyx trying to duel decorative gargoyles.
Bruno barking at cathedral bells.
Alex walking beside him under autumn trees, pretending for once that none of this involved murder plots.
It was almost absurdly normal.
Almost.
Beside him, Alex shifted closer.
Rested her head on his chest.
Her breathing had finally steadied.
The fury from earlier was gone.
Replaced with warmth.
"You're thinking again," she murmured.
"Always."
"About?"
"Logistics."
She snorted softly.
"You just survived me and you're thinking about logistics?"
"Yes."
She traced a lazy circle on his collarbone.
"You're ridiculous."
"Efficient."
She lifted her head and looked at him.
Softer now.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For trusting me."
He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
"You don't need permission to defend what's yours."
Her expression shifted slightly.
"What's mine?"
He met her eyes.
"Me."
She stared at him for a second.
Then leaned down and kissed him slowly.
Not heated.
Not fierce.
Just certain.
Outside, Rico yelled,
"I demand caffeine compensation for emotional trauma!"
Another bonktato vine slapped him.
Bruno laughed.
Nyx declared it deserved.
Phong closed his eyes.
Exhausted.
Content.
Aware that somewhere out there, Olen was plotting.
Grinding.
Convincing himself he would win in the end.
But here—
Under a lime-oak tree that had grown into something impossible—
He held the woman who had crushed a kill squad without hesitation.
Steel and rose.
Blade and sugar.
And for tonight—
Princess.
He just hoped she didn't ask for another fairy tale tomorrow.