In the quiet bedroom, the only sound that lingered was the steady rhythm of two people breathing. Camelia's breaths gradually slowed, evening out. Sol lowered his head, gently turning her to the side before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest.
He held her like that for a while, simply embracing her, before pressing soft, affectionate kisses on her lips, eyes, and forehead.
"Ha-ha, that tickles."
"Shall I make it stop tickling?" Sol whispered playfully, brushing his lips against her neck and giving it a light bite. His hand slipped from her back to her waist, but Camelia shifted, instinctively pushing him away.
When the warmth of her skin left his palm, Sol stubbornly reached out again, this time resting his hand on her rear. Camelia immediately pulled back.
"We can't," she said gently. "I have a lot to do tomorrow, so I need to sleep early."
"What kind of work?"
Caressing his cheek, she replied softly, "Your awakening ceremony will be held at the tower, but the annual entry into the spirit realm is overseen by the church. The time is drawing near—I need to make sure everything is prepared."
"I see."
Sol didn't press the matter. He could tell she might have given in if he insisted, but he didn't want her to neglect her duties for his sake. He refused to be the kind of man who let selfishness inconvenience those he loved.
"Then how about we just sleep together?"
Camelia's smile was so bright it nearly blinded him, but it filled his heart with warmth.
---
[Tower of Babel]
"So, he chose to stay the night at the church?"
Milia bowed her head respectfully, avoiding Lilith's piercing gaze.
Lilith and Camelia didn't have a hostile relationship—in fact, they could even be called close friends—but a subtle rivalry had always existed between them.
And the reason for it was rather trivial.
Back when Camelia was still the Holy Daughter, she had the opportunity to end her divine servitude by marrying Mars. Her title carried the same weight as that of a Crown Prince, and she was the most gifted Holy Daughter Lustburg had ever known. Mars, on the other hand, was the kingdom's most promising prince.
Naturally, many expected the two to marry. Preparations were even underway. But when they finally met, Camelia had declined him outright, saying politely yet firmly that he simply wasn't her type.
Her refusal shook the entire kingdom. Some even feared that the church and royal family might come into conflict over it, as the proposed union had seemed perfect in every sense.
Mars, however, took it in stride. Charismatic as ever, he bore no resentment, and they eventually became good friends. Lilith, however, could never let it go.
A quiet chuckle almost escaped Milia, but she disguised it with a cough.
Lilith was so adorable back then, she thought privately.
If Lilith had known what Milia was thinking, she would've drawn her sword on the spot. Instead, she simply frowned and sighed.
"Well, I suppose it's not a bad outcome. Did you do what I asked?"
Milia's amusement vanished instantly. "The crown's shadow made inquiries and gathered what intelligence they could, but found nothing. That woman is spotless."
Tap, tap, tap.
Lilith's fingers drummed lightly on the table, breaking the silence.
After a moment, she sighed again. "Let's end this here. As long as she doesn't cross the line, I won't act—despite her insolence toward Sol. But send her a message…"
Though they didn't always see eye to eye, Arachne had once fought beside her during the last war. Many of the armor pieces that had saved Lilith's life were forged by Arachne's own hands. Lilith owed her much. But even debts had limits.
"This will be the final warning. I won't let her take out her bitterness on Sol. You may go."
Milia bowed deeply and withdrew.
Left alone in her study, Lilith leaned back in her chair, massaging her brow. "I need to relax a bit."
She walked over to a long black case adorned with the image of a coiled snake. Opening it, she stared at the weapon inside—a flawless sword about ninety centimeters long and twelve centimeters wide, its surface etched with symbols from a forgotten tongue.
Calling it beautiful would be an understatement. It was a sacred blade of salvation—or a cursed weapon of destruction—depending on the wielder's will. It was also the sword only a king blessed by the goddess could bear.
As Lilith gazed at it, distant memories surfaced, and a sorrowful smile curved her lips.
"You really were such an idiot."
In that moment, she wasn't a queen, nor a formidable warrior, nor one of the most powerful women in the realm. She was simply a grieving sister, mourning her beloved brother.
Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered through a trembling smile,
"Big brother, being queen isn't easy. I still don't understand why you ever wanted the throne."
Her voice quivered with nostalgia.
"Are you proud of me? I'm not a crybaby anymore, right?"
"Do you see your son? He's grown into such a fine man."
She chuckled weakly. "You wouldn't believe it—he even managed to win the heart of the woman who never fell for your charm. Impressive, isn't he?"
"I can almost hear you teasing him for being a womanizer."
"Tell me, big brother… did I do well? I think I raised him right. Once I pass him the throne, he'll make a great ruler."
Her voice softened into a whisper. "I'm so tired, big brother. You must be lonely up there. Or maybe Blaze is still giving you a hard time in heaven. I can almost see it."
Her eyes dulled as her fingers brushed the sword's hilt.
"Soon, I'll join you. Soon, I'll finally be at peace."