Regulus' Falna glows with divine light, Nyx sees the number of his stats shift. She sees his Excelia, his experiences and acts laid bare before her:
---
Regulus Nihil
Level 1
Strength: G-247 → F-349
Endurance: F-315 → E-447
Dexterity: F-302 → F-364
Agility: G-256 → F-389
Magic: G-233 → F-332
Skills:
[Numquam Itineris] - You know what to do
[Semper Placere] - Ready to please, knowing how.
Magic:
[As I've written] -
"O Heavens, witness my great undertaking,
As stars above, so ink now waking.
As above, so below aligned,
What was once imagined now defined.
From silent pages to shouting steel,
Let every inscribed word be made real.
By quill's command and author's hand,
I rend the veil 'twixt thought and land.
Let history bend! Let stories rise!
Unwritten falsehoods take corporeal guise.
All fables woven, all legends spun—
For it is, As I've Written!"
---
Nyx will look at his new status, looks at his excelia, his new skill. And starts to get horny again.
She sees the bodies of all the maids she passed and got aquiantances with, their voices making sounds that would make a virgin faint.
"You're really perverted~ you know that right?"
She tries to hide it by smiling teasingly, but her flushed cheeks exposed her real thoughts.
"I know, at this point I just embraced what was happening and went with the flow-"
"Wait, why is my back so wet?"
Is Nyx getting wet?! Regulus thought, his mind going into overdrive.
"I don't know, sweat?"
That's your best excuse? "Just handover my stats."
"Yes yes, here you go. So impatient."
She instantly composes herself and covers her tracks as quickly as she can.
He receives his stats, lips curling amusingly like a child unable to contain their excitement.
Fortunately, Nyx is still busy trying to hide the evidence. And didn't see his face.
Regulus studied his newly acquired skill notification with quiet satisfaction. At least his efforts had amounted to something tangible.
"So I was right," Nyx mused, stretching lazily on the edge of his bed. "There really was something behind your ridiculous speed."
"And? What you did just conceptualize this overpowered skill, you just gave me, the one who is going to 'kill' you the equivalent of a knife- no, a gun."
"Ha, your ignorance makes me almost pity you Little Moth. Almost."
"....."
Regulus didn't speak, his silence ending their conversation. Leaving the room still and quiet, save for the distant voices of the maids' moans.
"What? Did my words cause doubt to settle?"
Nyx's brow raised in curiosity.
"Can we be honest right now? Just completely frank?"
Regulus' eyes focused, gaze steady. Nyx crossed her arms, one leg over the other. sitting at the edge of the bed.
"What's the matter Regulus?" She asks, no longer using any nicknames.
"What do you want from me exactly?"
"Gotta be more specific Regulus." She quipped.
"You said you desire sleep and the finest bed to rest on. Yet you were the one to spark so much chaos in our journey."
Regulus moves.
"You wanted peace and quiet so you kept me as your only Familia. But then joined forces with Hebe instead. Mingling with the maids."
He moves closer.
"You were the one that said I was yours, only to leave me behind in the most lustful branch of the Hebe Familia!"
He arrives right next to Nyx, his face right in front of hers.
"You act like you didn't enjoy it." Nyx teased.
"I didn't say I was," Regulus answered back.
He grabs her hands and pins her down the bed.
"Nyx, answer me."
....
A secons pass.
....
A minute passes.
....
"Cultivating." Nyx confess
"Gotta be more specific Nyx."
She moved to his ear.
"It was to prepare you, to be my perfect partner."
"So you were grooming me?" Regulus asked, with a lack of disgust that one would expect.
"You make it sound so bad, don't forget that I'm a sexy and powerful goddess." She winked.
"You're a goddess that is grooming a boy less than a ten thousandth of your age." He smirked.
"Like I said, I'm beautiful and powerful. So I am not a criminal, only the poor and ugly, the mediocre and nobodies are called groomers."
Regulus' eye twitch but he can't deny her words.
"Right. Double standards and all that."
Nyx smiles, and slips out of his grip. And embraces him from behind.
"So now you know. I want to live an indulgent and decadent life."
Her hand lowers.
"I want to sleep, then wake to a scrumptious meal prepared by a handsome stud."
Her fingers graze him, Regulus' breath hitched.
"One who is also able to fuck me till I pass out."
She grasps his manhood, then whispers.
"Do you want to take me, Regulus?" She nibbles his earlobe.
Regulus' once again falls silent. But the growing rod of a ruler in Nyx's hand answered in his place.
She smiles in anticipation.
"Make me yours, Regulus Nihil."
He turns around, gently removes her hands from himself. Then grasps her chin, tilting it upwards, their faces nearly touching.
"You're not telling me everything."
Her hand rests on his chest.
"Make me confess then."
Nyx's words hung between them, leaving Regulus balanced on a knife's edge. There was no lie in what she'd said—yet the air trembled with unspoken weight, as if one misstep might shatter everything.
His pulse thrummed in his throat.
Then don't misstep.
"Let's make a promise," he said.
Nyx arched a brow. "A promise?"
"An oath," he corrected, voice steady.
The space between breaths stretched taut.
"Tell me," she said.
No hesitation. No retreat.
Regulus met her gaze. "Swear to be mine."
Nyx laughed—sharp, bright. "I refuse."
He hadn't expected otherwise.
"You will love me," he continued, undeterred, "as the night moves with day. Inevitable. Eternal."
"How arrogant."
"Be quiet."
In one motion, he shoved her back against the mattress. Nyx's breath hitched as his hands pinned her wrists.
"Swear it," he demanded.
She bucked against him. "Let go of—"
"And I swear," he spoke over her, grip tightening just shy of pain, "to care for you always. To never let go."
Nyx stilled.
Then—slowly—her lips curled into that familiar, razor-edged smile.
"...I swear."
Regulus exhaled, his fingers loosening their hold to intertwine with hers.
"You're sweating," Nyx observed.
He collapsed beside her, the tension draining from his limbs.
"So that's all it took, huh?"
"Yup."
Nyx rolled onto her side, propping her head on one hand. Moonlight caught the amusement in her eyes. "Honestly? I expected more groveling."
Regulus snorted. "Keep dreaming."
The moonlight pooled silver across the bedsheets as Nyx turned her face toward him, her smirk sharp enough to draw blood.
"My words still stand," she murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "Make me yours."
Regulus caught her wrist, bringing it to his lips. The pulse beneath his thumb jumped—just once.
"No," he said against her skin. "You already swore to be mine." His teeth grazed her knuckles. "I want something else."
Nyx stilled.
"Say 'I love you' to me."
The silence that followed was a living thing. Somewhere beyond the window, an owl cried into the night.
Nyx's laughter, when it came, was softer than he'd ever heard it. "Tch. You don't play fair, little king."
Regulus waited.
Her free hand came up to cradle his jaw, thumb brushing the healing scar under his eye. When she spoke, her voice was barely audible.
"...I love you."
The words hung between them, fragile as spun glass.
Regulus exhaled—long and slow—before pressing his forehead to hers. "Say it again."
Nyx nipped his lower lip. "I love you. Happy?"
"No." He kissed her properly this time, deep and claiming. "But I will be."
-----
The hearth crackled as a dozen maids lounged across plush cushions, their usual pristine uniforms discarded for silken night robes. Wine glasses clinked, cheeks flushed from both drink and excitement.
"I swear on my mother's grave," little Cass whispered, leaning forward, "when Mistress Nyx said those words, the entire west wing fell silent! Even the mice stopped scurrying!"
Remia fanned herself dramatically with a folded parchment. "And after all her teasing! To think our Master would be the one to finally—"
"Shh!" Ramia elbowed her twin, though her own eyes sparkled. "The walls have ears, sister. Though..." She bit her lip, failing to hide a grin. "I heard from the kitchen staff that when he pinned her down—"
A collective gasp.
"—she didn't even try to break free!" Ramia finished triumphantly.
The maids burst into giggles, some hiding their faces in their hands, others clutching at each other in delight.
"Finally!" one sighed, flopping back onto the cushions. "All that tension was giving me heart palpitations!"
Another maid—older, with sharp eyes—tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Do you think this means she'll stop stealing our Master's socks?"
A beat of silence. Then uproarious laughter.
-----
Circe's quill hovered over the unfinished report, a single drop of ink blotting the parchment. The usual rhythmic sounds of the manor at night—the distant chatter of maids, the creak of floorboards—felt louder tonight. More intrusive.
A soft knock.
"Enter."
The twins slipped in, their usual playful energy subdued. They took one look at the untouched tea and the dark circles under Circe's eyes and exchanged a glance.
"You've heard," Circe said, setting down her quill.
Remia nodded. "The entire manor has, Mistress."
Circe's fingers traced the edge of her desk, her wedding band glinting dully in the lamplight. "And?"
Ramia stepped forward, ever the bold one. "We're happy for him. For them."
Circe exhaled slowly. "As you should be."
The twins blinked, surprised by her tone.
Circe stood, her silhouette tall and imposing against the window. Outside, the moon hung heavy in the sky. "Victory is most dangerous when it's within reach," she murmured, more to herself than to them. "The moment you think you've won is when you're most likely to fall."
Remia tilted her head. "But Mistress... hasn't Master Regulus already—"
"No." Circe's voice was sharp, final. "Not until he declares it. Not until he looks me in the eye and says, 'I am ready.'" She turned back to the window, her reflection ghostly against the dark glass. "That is when his training ends. Not a moment before."
The twins bowed, understanding dawning in their eyes.
"So who will be leaving with him?"