The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

"Why so tense, Your Highness?"

The soft, familiar voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes, quickly turning off the numerous tabs on his glasses' display, concealing the live feed from the chimera ant retreat. As the images vanished, he looked up to see Lira standing in the doorway, her posture graceful as always, holding a steaming cup of tea. Her dark eyes held a hint of curiosity as she stepped into the room.

She set the tea down in front of him, her gaze lingering on his face, studying it as though trying to peel away the layers of excuses she already knew were coming.

Mikhailis offered her a crooked half-smile, brushing off her concern.

"Oh, you know, just another day managing the kingdom's troubles. Paperwork, politics, and trying not to lose my mind in the process. Well, not that I do any of those, but I got myself exhaused just by thinking of them,"

Lira's eyebrow arched, her expression skeptical, not buying his casual response for a moment.

"Is that right? What kind of person actually got tired because of imagining works that he don't even do himself?"

Mikhailis chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"Are you my maid or my mother, Lira? I'm starting to get confused." He took the teacup and brought it to his lips, savoring the warmth that seeped through his skin.

"I'm your maid," Lira replied with a small, sarcastic smile.

"And it's my job to make sure you don't collapse from exhaustion. Queen Elowen is returning tomorrow from her visit to the Saintess, and I'm sure she'd appreciate it if her consort wasn't half-dead when she arrived."

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Worried I'll disappoint the Queen? Maybe I should wear a tiara and practice my curtsey then." He took a slow sip of the tea, letting its warmth soothe his throat.

"But really, thanks for the tea, Lira. You worry too much, you know?"

Lira gave him a knowing look, her lips curling at the edges.

"Someone has to. You're impossible when left to your own devices. Besides, I can't have you ruining my hard work by keeling over on me."

Mikhailis chuckled, the tension slowly easing from his shoulders. He tilted his head slightly, looking at her with curiosity.

"And what kind of hard work would that be?"

"Making sure you look presentable, for starters. Keeping you from making too many reckless decisions, for another," she said, her tone gentle but with that ever-present hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, come on. Reckless decisions are what I do best." He gave her a playful smirk.

"And it's my job to mitigate the fallout from those decisions." She folded her arms, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. They fell into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the tea between them, the day's tension gradually fading into something softer, something shared.

"You know," Lira began after a moment, "sometimes I think you forget that you're allowed to rest, as if you're pushing yourself, but well in the same time you don't really have that much to do in the first place anyway so this might be weird to hear, Your Highness. But you don't have to carry everything on your shoulders alone, Your Highness."

Mikhailis looked at her, her elegant form framed by the soft lamplight. He shrugged, his grin turning a little sheepish.

"Guess I'm just not very good at slowing down. But thanks for the reminder, Lira. I'll try—for you."

Lira smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes.

"I'll hold you to that, Your Highness."

The conversation lingered on small things—trivial details about the day, the mundane rhythm of life that was so often swallowed by the weight of his plans. It was comforting, in a way, to let the seriousness of everything slip into the background, even if only for a little while.

"You should get some sleep," Lira eventually said, her voice gentle. She rose from her chair, stretching her arms above her head, her movements graceful.

"Both of us should."

Mikhailis nodded, setting his empty teacup aside and pushing himself to his feet. He yawned, the exhaustion settling into his bones as he did. He turned to follow her towards his quarters, but then he stopped, a thought crossing his mind.

"Wait a minute," he said, his eyes narrowing playfully.

"Why are you acting like this is your room? Just barging in here like you own the place."

Lira paused, then giggled, her hand covering her mouth. "Hehehe,"

She straightened, assuming the perfect, poised posture of a maid, and bowed.

"Forgive me, Your Highness. I forgot my place." Her voice carried a teasing lilt, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mikhailis sighed, shaking his head.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't let it happen again," he said, his lips curling into a smile.

Lira straightened, stepping closer to him, her expression softening.

"Tomorrow, the Queen will return," she said quietly. "And your night will belong to her, as it should. But, for tonight…" She paused, her eyes meeting his, a hint of vulnerability there.

"Please, let me have some of your warmth, Your Highness. Let me share mine, just for tonight."

Mikhailis hesitated, a pang of guilt tightening in his chest. He knew he shouldn't—Elowen was returning, and it wasn't right to share this moment with anyone else. But as he looked at Lira, standing there, her eyes filled with a quiet plea, he found he couldn't bring himself to turn her away.

"I'm the worst, aren't I?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Taking advantage of you like this."

Lira shook her head, a sad smile on her lips.

"Yes, Your Highness. You are," she said, her voice gentle.

"But I'm also the worst, for taking advantage of your kindness."

She took another step closer, and then another, until they were standing mere inches apart. Mikhailis hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, their lips meeting in a slow, lingering kiss.

The world seemed to fade away as their lips moved together, soft and deliberate. There was a tenderness in the way Lira's hands came up to rest gently against his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of her breath mingled with his, the gentle sighs that escaped her only drawing him in closer.

Mikhailis's arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him as the kiss deepened, their movements becoming more urgent. He could feel the way her heart pounded against his chest, mirroring the rapid beat of his own. There was something desperate in the way they held each other, as though they were both afraid to let go, afraid that this moment would slip away if they did.

Lira let out a soft moan, her fingers tightening in his shirt as she pressed herself closer. The sound sent a shiver down Mikhailis's spine, his hands moving up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks.

The kiss was intense, filled with a need that neither of them could fully put into words—a need for connection, for comfort, for something that went beyond the roles they played.

The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity, and yet it still ended too soon. They pulled away slowly, their foreheads resting against each other, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Lira's eyes were half-lidded, her lips slightly swollen, and she gave him a soft smile, her fingers still resting against his chest.

"Okay," Mikhailis said, his voice barely a whisper, his forehead still pressed to hers.

"Let's sleep."

Lira nodded, her smile widening just a fraction.

"Yes, Your Highness. Let's sleep."

They moved to the bed, slipping beneath the blankets. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric as they settled in. Lira lay beside him, her head resting on his arm as a makeshift pillow. She closed her eyes, her breathing evening out as she relaxed against him.

As the minutes passed, Lira shifted closer, her arm wrapping around his waist, her body pressing against his side. Mikhailis could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her breath against his neck. He felt her body tremble for just a moment before she tightened her hold, her trembling easing as she found comfort in his embrace.

Mikhailis stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling. He had gotten closer to the people around him since coming to this world—closer to Lira, to Serelith, even to Elowen. But there was still something missing, something that held him back from truly letting them in. He hadn't touched on the stories of their pasts, the experiences that shaped them.

Just as he kept his own past hidden, he hadn't tried to uncover theirs.

He was still holding back. Still afraid to trust.

A voice cut through his thoughts, calm and slightly sarcastic.

<As expected, you don't trust them yet, Mikhailis.>

His eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line.

I guess you're right.

He glanced at Lira, her face peaceful in sleep.

Not Lira, not Serelith, and perhaps... not even Elowen.