Vastarael had barely crossed the threshold of one of the royal relaxation chambers before the tension in his shoulders finally gave out. Elyonari guided him wordlessly to one of the long reclining couches and nudged him down with the quiet insistence only she could manage.
He didn't even argue. He let his head rest on her lap and the moment he did, he felt the warmth of her body, the softness of her thighs, the faint scent of petals and rainfall that always clung to her and the slow, rhythmic way her fingers drifted into his hair, brushing strands aside like she were memorizing him. That's when reality hit him.
How did he end up with someone like Elyonari Mintheris, High Priestess of the World Tree, bearer of the calmest and most ethereal elvish beauty in the entire Third Generation? She didn't have to do anything. Her existence alone made him feel like he wasn't a monster crouching under the expectations of a dynasty, but a man who was allowed to rest. His fingers curled slightly into her robe, gripping it as if anchoring himself.
"Veneri?"
He swallowed, looking up at her moonlit hair cascading like waterfalls around his face.
"Elyonari, why did you fall for me?"
She blinked once, slowly, like he had asked her why water was wet.
"I should be the one asking that, you know. Why did you fall for me?"
"You've been with me. You're beautiful. You're voluptuous as hell. You're... you're you. And also, who wouldn't want multiple women they love and who actually love them back?"
Elyonari shook her head with a tiny smile and traced her fingers along his cheek.
"Veneri, you sell yourself short."
"How?"
"You're one of the most handsome Divine beings of the Third Generation. You're stronger than most and kinder than all. If anything, I'm the lucky one."
He stared at her like she'd just said the sky was green. Elyonari continued, brushing a thumb over his temple.
"You know this world, Veneri. Spheraphase looks equal on paper, but socially and politically, women hold most of the power. Most men can't compete. The only men who stand out are the ones strong enough to face the goddesses, priestesses, generals, and matriarchs who run everything."
He knew that.
He grew up seeing women leading councils, commanding armies and shaping nations, weaving the laws of Divinity itself. Men weren't disrespected but if you weren't exceptionally strong, exceptionally gifted, or exceptionally brave, you didn't stand out.
And relationships...
Earth had been awkward. Emotionally constipated was the right word for it. Lovers scared to show vulnerability, scared to be attached and scared to be honest. Half the time, men acted like caring too much made them weak.
Spheraphase, though? Vulnerability wasn't shameful and yet, not a lot of men would be vulnerable. Elyonari looked down at him and smiled with that serene confidence only elves of her lineage carried.
"You're more open about your feelings than most men here. Honestly, right now, no man would willingly be this vulnerable with a woman, especially not a High Priestess."
She gently slid her hand down his chest, stopping right over where his heart would beat if Divines had normal hearts.
"Right now, if I wanted to harm you... you'd die."
He blinked up at her.
"Why would I ever keep my guard up around you?"
She flicked his forehead.
"That, Darling, is exactly what I mean. You trust us completely. You don't hesitate. You don't pretend to be emotionless. You don't sit above us like some arrogant Monarch. You reciprocate. A normal man here would never rest his head on a High Priestess's lap. He would never show affection or weakness so openly. But you choose to lay here because you want to. You trust me. You love me. You're honest about what you feel."
She leaned down until her forehead rested against his.
"That, is why I fell for you. And that's why we all did."
He exhaled, letting his eyes fall shut.
"Elyonari…"
"Yes?"
"I think I really needed this."
She smiled.
"I know. That's why I'm here."
And for the first time in days, Vastarael allowed himself to let go and sleep in the lap of the woman who adored him.