They lay tangled together afterward, breathing heavily despite enhanced stamina. Political discussion could wait no longer, colored now by renewed intimacy and trust.
"Lord Fatel has been building support in your absence," Isolde reported, returning to analytical tone despite nakedness. "He's spreading carefully worded rumors about your 'unnatural influences' among minor nobles. Nothing actionable, but enough to sow doubt."
"Let him gather supporters," Arthur replied, fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. "When I complete Gizmo's test successfully, his words will carry as much weight as morning mist."
"And what is this test, exactly?"
"A dungeon. Eastern border, near Blackmist Valley." Arthur felt that strange pull again, stronger now that he was home. "Gizmo presented it as a simple threat requiring management, but the goddess warned me it's more—a test designed specifically for beings like me, with unknown entities watching the outcome."
