Chapter 12: I Know How To Flirt

Chapter 12. I Know How To Flirt

Seris stared at my stomach.

Then at me.

Her lips moved.

I saw it.

A tiny twitch.

For one horrifying moment, I prepared myself.

Here it came.

The teasing.

The mockery.

But Seris didn’t laugh or tease.

Instead, the amusement disappeared from her golden eyes almost immediately, replaced by the same quiet concern she’d been carrying since she entered the chamber.

She reached for my hand.

Her fingers slipped gently around mine. "It’s almost dinner time," she said softly. "Should we go back now?"

I stared at her.

That was it?

She hadn’t even acknowledged the growl.

This woman was literally a saint.

Forget Elia Seren. Move aside, Saintess. Your position had been challenged.

’Bless you, Seris.’

Actually... I looked at her beautiful face.

’Bless me.’

She was my wife.

Well.

Rey’s wife.

Technically mine now.

I nodded. "Let’s go."

I took one step. Or rather, I intended to.

Seris moved first.

One arm slipped behind my back.

The other went beneath my knees.

My instincts immediately screamed that something had gone terribly wrong.

My feet left the floor.

So did the rest of me.

My eyes widened.

For several seconds, my brain refused to process what had happened.

I was being carried.

Literally.

Seris Ignara had picked me up as though my eighty-something kilograms of legendary-magician dignity weighed approximately nothing.

Which... Fine.

Phoenixkin.

Enhanced physical strength.

Completely understandable.

But she could’ve thrown me over one shoulder.

Potato sack style.

Undignified, yes, but masculine enough that I could’ve pretended I was an injured soldier being evacuated from a battlefield.

Instead...

One arm beneath my knees.

One supporting my back.

My body resting elegantly against hers.

She was princess-carrying me!

My mouth slowly fell open.

There were moments in a man’s life when language simply abandoned him.

This was one.

Seris looked down at me. Her crimson hair fell slightly forward, framing her face as she gave me the softest smile imaginable. "I’ll carry you."

My soul cringed. Somewhere deep inside this body, if even one fragment of the original Rey Valen remained, I was certain his soul had cringed with me.

Brother, we may have lived thousands of years apart. But surely we agreed on this.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

This wasn’t my game.

I was beginning to suspect Rey and I shared more than broken magical circumstances.

Stubbornness, for one.

Possibly pride.

Definitely an unhealthy willingness to experiment on ourselves.

And apparently an inability to tolerate being princess-carried by our own wife.

My Forbidden Energy moved.

[Void Shift.]

Reality cracked.

I reappeared, standing beside her.

Seris’s arms closed around absolutely nothing.

She blinked. Then slowly turned her head toward me.

I smirked.

Her eyes narrowed. "Rey, you shouldn’t—"

I placed one finger against her lips.

She stopped. Her golden eyes widened.

"No."

One word.

Calm.

Final.

Her lips were warm against my fingertip.

My other hand slid naturally around her waist.

Seris stiffened.

I pulled her slightly closer and concentrated.

Dining room.

Not kitchen.

I had originally planned to teleport directly there and steal food like some starving raccoon with spatial magic, but circumstances had changed.

My stomach had publicly disgraced me.

There were standards to maintain.

A man could lose his original body.

His era.

His career.

His unfinished research.

But dignity?

We defended that until the end.

"Void Shift."

Darkness brushed across my vision.

Then the training chamber vanished.

We emerged inside the mansion’s dining room.

A long polished table dominated the center, surrounded by high-backed chairs. Crystal chandeliers floated overhead without chains, illuminating dark wood, silver decorations, and enormous windows overlooking gardens beginning to disappear beneath evening shadows.

I had successfully recovered the situation.

Then my legs gave out.

’Shit—’

My body lurched forward.

Apparently Void Shift didn’t consume much Forbidden Energy, but hunger remained tragically unaffected by spatial innovation.

Seris gasped.

My hand shot outward.

I caught the edge of the table.

My other hand followed immediately.

Good.

I hadn’t fallen.

More importantly, I hadn’t slipped.

I was not dying from slipping twice.

Once was already an insult to my entire existence.

I breathed out quietly.

Crisis avoided.

Then I noticed Seris wasn’t saying anything.

I looked up.

She was staring at me.

Her golden eyes had widened, and a faint red was already spreading across her cheeks.

Huh?

Then I finally noticed our positions.

Ah... Right.

Seris had instinctively stepped backward when I suddenly stumbled toward her. The dining table stopped her retreat, while both my hands had landed against its edge, one on either side of her.

From my perspective, I had just narrowly avoided introducing Rey Valen’s face to the floor.

From her perspective... I had teleported us into an empty dining room, wrapped an arm around her waist, then immediately pushed her against the table and deliberately trapped her between my arms.

Oh, that looked completely different.

My eyes slowly narrowed with amusement.

Well...

No reason to correct the misunderstanding.

Seris’s fingers curled against the edge of the table.

She wasn’t trying to escape.

If anything, the longer I stayed there, the redder her face became.

Our bodies were close.

Very close.

And our faces were even closer.

Her warm breath brushed against my lips. "Rey..."

Her voice came softer this time.

Almost questioning.

I could practically see what she was thinking.

’Was this why he teleported us here?’

Apparently, yes.

That was now officially the story.

My dignity approved.

The room suddenly became remarkably quiet.

Seris stared up at me.

I stared down at her.

Her hands moved and instinctively caught the front of my clothes.

One gripping near my chest.

The other against my side.

Her golden eyes were wide.

A faint blush spread across her cheeks.

Then deepened.

The woman who could casually lift me like a bride was now turning red because I was leaning over her.

My gaze drifted down.

Her lips had parted slightly.

Soft.

Warm-looking.

Her breath brushed against my mouth.

The old Rey had been warm toward his wives before the curse grew worse.

Maybe situations like this weren’t unfamiliar.

That thought removed some of the humor from me.

Because suddenly I could see it again.

The woman behind the worry.

The wife who had spent months watching her husband deteriorate.

Who probably entered rooms wondering which Rey she’d find.

The man she loved... Or the curse wearing his temper.

Her fingers tightened slightly against my clothes.

A normal husband would’ve kissed her.

Probably gently.

Unfortunately, Evan Veyr had never been particularly normal.

And Rey Valen’s body apparently came equipped with its own dangerously natural confidence.

I lowered my face.

Seris didn’t move away.

Her lashes fluttered.

At the last moment, instead of kissing her properly, I brushed my mouth against hers and slowly traced the tip of my tongue across her lips.

Just once.

Teasing enough to make her breath stop.

Seris froze completely.

Her eyes went wide.

Then her entire face turned red.

I pulled back barely an inch.

Her lips remained parted.

Her expression looked almost offended by the fact that I’d stopped there.

That was adorable.

"Rey..."

I answered with a smirk.

Then pushed myself upright.

Turned.

And sat in the nearest chair as though absolutely nothing had happened.

Seris remained against the table.

Silent.

Red.

Processing.

I rested one elbow against the armrest and looked at her. ’Love, huh?’

For the wives, maybe.

Actually, there was no maybe about it.

Those women loved Rey Valen.

But Rey?

No.

Despite everything he’d done for them, despite how warm he treated them before the curse twisted his emotions, Rey Valen had never actually fallen in love with any of his wives.

Hell, not even Elia Seren.

History loved that story.

The brilliant Royal Magus and the beautiful Saintess. Two heroes secretly in love before tragedy tore them apart.

Romantic. Also complete bullshit.

Rey cared about Elia.

Trusted her.

Protected her.

But love?

No.

Apparently the legendary Royal Magus had been emotionally constipated long before the Dark Lord cursed him.

Warm toward friends.

Merciless toward enemies.

Cold toward strangers.

Protective toward those he considered his.

But that final step, the terrifying little leap from ’I care about you’ to ’I love you’, he’d simply never taken.

And strangely... I understood him. Because I wasn’t that different due to my trauma.

Maybe that was another reason this body felt increasingly natural.

Still, watching Seris stand there with that soft happiness in her eyes left something uncomfortable inside my chest.

It felt unfair.

Five women had given Rey their hearts.

And the idiot had protected every single one... without ever realizing how to give his own.