The stiff atmosphere from that morning didn't ease, even as evening settled in.
The elf radiated a murderous aura. The demon king fidgeted nervously, constantly gauging whether her head might be severed at any moment. And the warrior, Carine, sat silently, her eyes unreadable.
Hernán wiped the cold sweat from his brow, the tension reminding him of the uneasy dinners at his childhood home.
"I'll finish quickly and head in," muttered the Demon King. She stuffed a few last bites into her mouth and retreated to her room, visibly on edge. The elf's unrelenting stare at her throat had clearly contributed to her hasty exit.
"We'll go too," Saint Marina said with a pleasant smile as she began clearing away the tableware Silnia had used.
Hernán desperately wanted to leave the room. In truth, aside from the demon king, the next most uncomfortable presence at the table was himself.
No matter how beautiful the women gathered here were—he was supposed to suddenly have sex with all of them? Just to make children?
That idea was anything but simple.
"L, let's go," he whispered.
"Alright," Carine replied, standing beside him.
Especially with his lover sitting right there, wide-eyed and listening to everything.
"Is Potty not going to her room? Another long bathroom break?" Carine paused when she noticed the small mage still seated at the table.
"I'm just feeling... stifled," Potty said softly, scratching at the hood that concealed her head. The tip of it twitched with her motion.
To anyone else, it seemed like a natural movement. But to Hernán—who knew there were rabbit ears hidden underneath—it looked suspiciously like her ears had moved on their own.
This rabbit is impatient. Better calm her down, Hernán thought, forcing himself to look away before that strange image took root in his mind.
"If you're feeling stifled, why not take off the robe?" Carine said casually.
Potty smiled, her voice light.
"Yes... I will. Soon."
Carine blinked, as if surprised by the unexpected response.
"Karine, let's go," Hernán said, reaching for her hand. He couldn't take sitting in that room with Potty any longer. And he didn't want to think about why.
The room they shared was filled with heavy silence.
Hernán lay on his back, breathing deeply to calm the pounding in his head. The headache from the magical backlash hadn't fully faded, but even more than that, the weight of the day lingered in his chest.
"Do you agree with what she said?"
Carine's sudden question broke the stillness.
He turned his head slightly toward her, cautiously choosing his words.
"What do you mean, what she said?"
"The demon king. Do you agree with what she said about needing to have nineteen children to escape this place?"
"Well…"
He trailed off. His thoughts were scattered and foggy. Even on a good day, there was probably no perfect answer to that question—but with his head pounding like this?
"I just know it's the only lead we have right now."
Carine's brow twitched.
"So you agree. You're willing to get all the women here pregnant."
"I didn't say I agreed. I just stated a fact."
"Saying it's true is the same as agreeing."
Hernán turned onto his side to face her directly.
"That's not it. The only woman I love is you."
He gently took her hand, trying to soothe her rising anxiety. But Carine's face remained shrouded in shadows, even under the soft glow of the room's light.
"You sound just like my father."
"His Majesty?"
"He used to say the same thing to my mother."
But then he'd abandon the woman, leaving only the child behind. As always. Perhaps recognizing the daughter was the last shred of conscience he had left.
Carine clutched Hernán's hand more tightly, the unease radiating from her palm.
"I'm not him," Hernán said quietly. "I'll take responsibility for my love—and for the child born from that love."
He continued speaking gently, trying to reassure her, but she didn't respond.
Eventually, he turned off the bedside light, letting the darkness settle around them.
"In the end, none of this matters if the others don't agree, right? Even if you say yes, it's meaningless if they say no."
He tried a softer approach, hoping to win her over with reason.
"I mean, Potty might agree, but if Silnia or the saintess says no, it's over. The plan falls apart."
Carine's voice finally returned, cool and measured.
"That might be true. But the Demon King clearly thinks differently."
"She's not like us. Her thoughts don't follow human logic."
That seemed to ease some of the tension. For the first time in a while, Hernán felt clarity creeping in.
"Our companions want to escape this place, sure—but they also want you to become queen. Everyone's banking on your success."
"They're motivated by self-interest."
"Not all of them," Hernán said. "But yes, that's a big part of it."
"Then you're saying you'll avoid going against me to preserve their loyalty?"
The tone in her voice had softened. Their argument had mellowed into something quieter, more intimate.
"Exactly. I want to protect what we've built. I won't destroy our bond."
"Alright. Let's sleep."
Carine pulled up the blanket, her voice no longer tense.
But before letting the moment pass, Hernán decided to ask her a favor—one more time.
"Carine. Can we do what we did yesterday? Again?"
She tensed immediately.
"You mean… with my mouth?"
"Yeah."
"We just did that yesterday."
"I know, but it didn't seem to be enough. The headache's still there."
She slipped her hand from his and rested it on her own chest.
"Is it that bad?"
"No. But it wouldn't hurt to take care of it early."
He wanted to end the night peacefully, both physically and emotionally. Sharing that intimacy again would bring them closer, he believed.
"Sorry… Can we not? Just for today?"
His anticipation collapsed like a house of cards.
"Why not?"
"I'm mentally exhausted. It's been a lot."
"But isn't that the best time to comfort each other?"
"L, let's just sleep next to each other like we used to on our journey. That was always enough."
"That was before. When I didn't even have a sex drive thanks to the magic!"
"And now that you do, the way we comfort each other has to change?"
Her words struck a nerve.
"This is about our relationship, too," he said sharply. "It's part of how we connect."
Carine remained silent, prompting Hernán to sit up in frustration.
"Are you scared?"
"Scared?"
"You're afraid if we keep going, we'll eventually end up having real sex. And then a baby. That's what you're scared of—because it'll ruin your chances at the throne."
"I know."
Her cold tone only added fuel to the fire.
"Then can't you at least take care of me? I'm not asking for everything."
He considered taking out the dagger from the drawer beside the bed and slicing open his head just to let out the heat roiling inside.
"Hernán?" she asked, hearing him rise.
"I need to cool my head."
No reply came. Hernán left the room and sat at the table in the living room.
He couldn't tell if he was just an angry fool upset that his girlfriend didn't want to suck him off. But the resentment inside him kept growing.
She had changed so much.
Since childhood, she had blossomed into a stunning beauty. Her face, her body—everything shaped to match her royal bloodline.
But her heart had changed, too. Hardened by politics. Ruthless from ambition.
He sighed.
Then, he heard water running.
"Huh…?"
It was faint, like a sink left open.
No danger here, he reminded himself.
"Bathroom…"
He wandered toward the sound and entered the bathroom.
The sink was damp, water dripping from the faucet. He stepped forward and was about to splash water on his face—
"Hernán."
A quiet but unmistakable voice called his name.
"Potty?"
He turned. There she stood, completely cloaked in her robe.
"You've been here the whole time?"
"I was… frustrated."
Her voice was calm, but breathy—almost excited.
"Take off your robe," he said, echoing what Carine had told her earlier that evening.
"Yes."
But this time, the reaction was not the same.
Potty let the robe fall.
Her rabbit ears stood up proudly atop her head. Her delicate shoulders and exposed collarbone gave way to full, bare breasts, soft stomach, and a plush curve of her hips. Her little tail twitched as if announcing her arousal.
Even her legs glistened with trails of water from the sink.
She was completely naked.
Golden eyes peered at him from her flushed face.
"Aren't you frustrated, too?"
Yes.
Frustrated with being trapped here.
Frustrated with heat building up, needing release, needing something—anything.
"Oh!"
With a playful cheer, Potty leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her arms looped over his shoulders, clinging to him.
She whispered softly into his ear, as they entered the bathroom stall where their affair had begun:
"Hernán… take everything off."