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Less than twenty-four hours had passed since the visitors from beyond the skies arrived in Okhema, their arrival as imposing as it was unexpected. The streets, usually bustling with everyday activity, now buzzed with whispers of rumors and speculation about the outsiders who did not belong to Amphoreus. Their revelation, though accidental, had ignited a flame of curiosity and mistrust.
Under the stern gaze of Aglaea, the demigoddess who ruled with a presence as imposing as the marble of her palace, the newcomers were subjected to an unrelenting trial. Phainon, informed by Castorice about the events, waited in the shadows with a mixture of tension and hope, fearing the verdict that would decide the fate of Caelus and Dan Heng. The atmosphere was suffocating, every word a blade capable of slicing through any argument. Yet, against all odds, the visitors emerged victorious, leaving the hall with their dignity intact and returning to the guest room that had been assigned to them.
Phainon, now far from the solemnity of the trial, found himself in a market tavern, the air heavy with the aroma of spices and the murmur of conversations among the few citizens who ventured out at that hour. Seated on a worn stool, with a glass of red wine in his hands, he tried to soothe the nerves that still gnawed at him. Each sip was a futile attempt at relief, his mind trapped in a whirlwind of doubts and strategies.
Castorice, seated beside him, observed him with a certain discomfort. Concern was etched on her face, but her lack of skill in the art of conversation held her back, like an invisible rope keeping her from moving closer.
“Battle after battle, everything seems like a false test for a destiny that still awaits,” murmured Phainon, his voice heavy with melancholy that resonated in the silence between them. He took a long sip, his eyes fixed on the nearly deserted streets. “I fear for the safety of The Eternal Holy City. Even if I am worthy of the title bestowed upon me, our rivals possess unique qualities that go far beyond what we can understand.”
He tilted his neck, an audible crack breaking the silence as he tried to release the tension that had settled in his shoulders. Castorice followed his movement with her gaze, biting her lower lip as a thought began to take shape in her mind. If she couldn’t find the words to ease his burden, perhaps someone else could.
“Mr. Phainon, you should try to relax before tomorrow’s mission,” she finally suggested, her voice wavering slightly, as if walking on thin ice. “Lady Aglaea, Miss Tribbie, the city, and I all trust in you. Why don’t you visit Lord Mydei? He’s probably still awake. You could talk to him about the map of Castrum Kremnos; it might make it easier for you to plan a route and help ease the anxiety that’s consuming you.”
Phainon blinked, startled by the suggestion. It was so obvious that he silently berated himself for not thinking of it sooner. Mydeimos knew every corner of The Capital of Might, and having a clearer idea of the terrain could make all the difference on the battlefield.
“You’re brilliant, Cas! I hadn’t thought of that. Do you mind if I leave right away?”
The nickname caught her completely off guard. It was the first time someone had addressed her with such casual familiarity, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, a laugh that brightened her cheeks with a subtle blush. She shook her head, hiding her growing smile behind a modest gesture.
“Go ahead, Mr. Phainon.” The words were spoken with a warmth that contrasted with the chill of the night, a gentle push in the right direction.
Phainon stood, leaving a few coins on the counter before departing with renewed energy. As he disappeared into the shadows of the streets, Castorice watched him go, a hint of pride gleaming in her eyes. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad at offering support after all.
Phainon walked briskly, his boots echoing against the cobblestones as his mind waded through chaotic thoughts and resolute decisions. Each step brought forth another unanswered question: Would his sword and determination be enough to defeat the god of conflict? Would any of the visitors agree to accompany him on such a perilous endeavor? And, most pressing of all, would Mydei allow him to share the glory of such a feat?
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even pause to knock before stepping into the majestic chamber of Prince Mydeimos. The room exuded an air of sophistication and mystery; silk curtains swayed gently with the night breeze, and the dim glow of candlelight cast dancing shadows across the walls.
Mydei was still awake, seated on the edge of the expansive balcony that offered an unparalleled view of the illuminated streets of Okhema. The silvery glow of the moon enveloped his bare torso, accentuating every line of his sculpted muscles. He held a golden pomegranate goblet with casual ease, his piercing gaze seemingly fixed on something far beyond the horizon.
Phainon swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in his throat. It had been quite some time since he had acknowledged the attraction and fascination he felt for his friend and rival. Yet, he had sworn not to give in to those feelings until they had vanquished the threat looming over Amphoreus. But when their eyes met, his resolve wavered like a house of cards.
“Shouldn’t you be getting some rest, Deliverer?” Mydei inquired in a deep, steady voice. The resonant tone seemed to hum in the air, sending a curious shiver down Phainon’s hands.
Phainon shut the door behind him, a sly smile playing on his lips, masking his nervousness. “Probably,” he admitted with a casual shrug, “but the situation with our visitors disrupted those plans a bit.”
Mydei furrowed his brow slightly, a faint scowl crossing his face. The tension in his expression sparked something in Phainon’s heart, a flicker he tried with all his might to extinguish.
“You worry too much about them.”
Was he jealous? Phainon raised an eyebrow, amused by the thought.
“Are you upset because I’m not paying as much attention to you?” he retorted, his tone playful, almost teasing.
Mydei scoffed, his lips curling into a half-smile that failed to dull the intensity of his gaze.
“As if I needed your attention, idiot,” he replied with disdain.
He placed the goblet on the balcony railing with deliberate grace and rose with an innate elegance. Each step he took toward Phainon seemed to charge the air with a palpable electricity, his commanding presence filling the space between them. Face to face, the atmosphere grew heavy, and Phainon’s playful expression held steady despite the quickening beat of his heart.
Despite his composed facade, Phainon struggled to maintain his composure. He exerted immense effort not to let his gaze linger longer than necessary on the imposing contours of Mydei’s bare torso. Every fiber of his being yearned to surrender to the repressed desire that sought any crack through which to emerge.
“Well?” Mydei asked, raising an eyebrow with curiosity. His arms crossed naturally, a gesture that only heightened the temptation. The warrior’s muscles seemed to be a provocation in themselves, every line of his body calling out to be touched, caressed, devoured.
Phainon, a mere mortal surrendered to the sins of his humanity, could no longer resist. All rational thought evaporated, his original purpose forgotten. A map? The mad god? Those were distant, irrelevant concepts. Now, only the palpable tension between them existed.
His hands, trembling at first, found the perfect place to rest on the firm, warm waist of the warrior. Without giving Mydei time to react, Phainon brought his face closer to his neck, letting his nose glide along the skin with unexpected tenderness. The caress was slow, almost devotional. Mydei opened his mouth, ready to push him away with a firm gesture, but then he heard a whisper that completely disarmed him.
“Please, Mydeimos… Let me fuck you.”
The words, spoken with a gravity that contrasted with the softness of his voice, sent a wave of heat surging unbidden into the prince’s core. Phainon, whose hands now applied gentle pressure, lifted his face with an expression that combined innocence and passion, like a puppy begging for a bit of attention. His pleading eyes gleamed with a desire that left no room for misinterpretation.
Phainon’s lips began tracing along Mydei’s neck, leaving kisses that were both tender and desperate. The path continued to his jawline, each touch charged with an almost painful need. Mydei, whose usually unshakable expression had been his armor for years, felt a faint blush spreading across his face. The mix of anger and confusion was evident, but so too was the effect those lips were having on him.
“Excuse me?” he said, his tone attempting disbelief but betraying the tremor of his emotions. “I think I misheard you.”
However, the reluctance in his words contrasted with the subtle shiver that ran through his body. Phainon had no doubts about what he wanted. With quiet determination, his lips returned to their task of exploration, while his hands began to trace an invisible map across Mydei’s skin. The internal battle within the prince’s heart was evident, but so too was the spark of something beginning to ignite between them.
“Not at all, my beautiful prince,” Phainon murmured with a confidence that electrified the air between them. His left hand slid in a calculated motion to Mydei’s nape, his fingers intertwining with the fine golden strands that fell in perfect disarray. Before the warrior could react, Phainon captured his lips in a deep, wet kiss that caught him completely off guard. Mydei’s initial resistance dissolved in an instant, replaced by a growing heat that spread through his entire body.
Phainon’s right hand, free and purposeful, found its place on the warrior’s hip. With a firm push, he brought their bodies together, amplifying the warmth radiating between them. Mydei, unable to hold his breath, parted his lips, and Phainon seized the opportunity. His tongue met Mydei’s in a passionate duel that elicited a moan from the prince’s throat—a delicious sound that reverberated through Phainon’s chest.
“You have a beautiful voice and an exquisite body,” Phainon whispered against his lips before breaking the kiss, his hot breath brushing against Mydei’s skin as he descended toward his neck. Each word was a verbal caress, an adoration resonating with the intensity of his desire. “Your chest is begging to be claimed, to be pushed to the edge and made to plead.”
His hands moved with determination, descending to Mydei’s firm cheeks, applying gentle pressure that drew a new moan—deeper, rougher—that vibrated between them. The sound caused the warrior to tremble softly, his defenses crumbling under the overwhelming intensity of the moment.
“I want to fill you, Mydei, until all you can think about is how well I fuck you and how much your body needs to have me inside” Phainon continued, his voice husky, charged with a raw passion that brooked no doubt. "May you ride me, may your breasts bounce in front of my face, begging for my attention, begging me to worship them as they deserve."
As he spoke, his hands returned to Mydei’s waist, gripping with a force that conveyed possessiveness. The prince’s breathing grew heavy, and his legs trembled as his hands clung to Phainon’s shoulders, seeking balance in the midst of his surrender.
If one thing was certain, it was that no one in Amphoreus could match Phainon’s strength. In all his years, no one had ever pushed Mydei to that limit, where the thought of submission ceased to feel like an obligation and became a desire.
Unable to deny what was happening, but also lacking the courage to fully accept it, Mydei let out a low, reluctant grunt:
“Do what you want.”
Never had a few words been so necessary nor had they so inflamed Phainon. His lips curved into a smile that spoke of triumph and pent-up passion.
“That's just what I wanted to hear “he replied huskily.
With a decisive movement, he pushed Mydei down onto the bed. The prince fell backwards, his body stretched out on the soft sheets, his chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. His eyes did not leave Phainon, who began to strip off his armor and suit with methodical dexterity, revealing battle-scarred skin and a sculpted body that reflected his strength.
Leaving only his pants behind, Phainon positioned himself between Mydei's legs, hovering over him with a presence that was both commanding and protective.
“Is this your first time bottoming? “Phainon asked, his voice low but laden with a playful tone that hid a deep intensity.
Phainon's hand rested firmly on Mydei's cheek, preventing him from turning his face away. The prince, unable to hold his gaze, averted his eyes to an undefined point, his brow furrowed by the mixture of sensations running through him.
“Isn't it obvious?” he replied in a dry tone that failed to hide the slight tremor in his voice.
Phainon's heart pounded, a deep pulse that echoed throughout his body. A slow, satisfied smile crept across his face as he closed his eyes briefly, letting the tension of the moment wash over him.
“I'm very lucky then” he replied, his voice softened by a sincerity that contrasted with his foreplay.
Without wasting time, he bent his face and began a slow trail of kisses that descended from Mydei's neck to his breast. Each touch was deliberate, a mixture of devotion and desire that left a burning trail over the prince's skin. When his lips reached his left nipple, he caught it between his lips, tugging it gently before squeezing it lightly with his teeth. His tongue traced a circle around the sensitive flesh before sucking, creating a wet sound that intensified as he released it with a resounding “pop.”
The moan that escaped Mydei's lips was like a direct shot to Phainon's penis. His pupils dilated, and his body immediately responded to that sweet melody. Without pausing, his free hand began to descend from Mydei's chest to his belly, his fingers exploring haltingly, discovering every sensitive spot that would elicit a reaction.
When he noticed Mydei holding his breath, his lips followed the downward path to his lower belly, where he deposited a kiss on the firm, smooth expanse of skin. He lifted his head slightly to observe his partner's face and found the heir fiercely biting the back of his hand, trying to restrain himself, avoiding letting out the tremors and pleas that threatened to overpower him.
“You're so soft here, Mydei... Would you like to feel my cock right here?”
Mydei's body reacted instinctively, a tremor running through it as Phainon's lips returned to the prince's chest. This time, he used his fingers to stretch his nipples, trapping them between his forefinger and thumb, sending waves of pleasure surging through Mydei. Meanwhile, his lips found the wrist covering his companion's face and deposited a soft, comforting kiss.
“Why are you trying so hard to silence your beautiful voice?” asked Phainon, his voice husky and low, full of desire. “You have no idea what you do to my body, Dei...”
He guided Mydei's hand to his manhood, forcing him to squeeze. The contact drew a deep moan from Phainon, who looked up at his rival with lust-filled eyes.
“You drive me crazy,” he admitted.
The invitation was clear, and Mydei, unable to resist any longer, took control. With a decisive move, he pulled him to himself and rotated positions, pushing Phainon onto the bed. Now Mydei was on top of him, his legs on either side, sitting directly over Phainon's covered manhood, which was already beginning to feel the strain of the tight fabric of his pants. Their breathing filled the space.
The prince shed the rest of the clothing that remained between them, exposing his sculpted body. With slow, provocative movements, he began to rock his ass over Phainon's stiff, dripping penis. Each rub sent ripples of pleasure that seemed to ripple through them both, igniting the air.
“That's it, my prince. You do it perfect.”
The praise, mundane and simple, felt like a caress on Mydei's ego. The warmth that welled up from his chest to his face left him slightly breathless, his cheeks tingeing with a blush that contrasted with his usual composure.
Phainon, unable to resist the temptation, brought his hands to the prince's thighs. His fingers, firm but tender, traced upward paths, caressing the soft skin between his legs before tracing Mydei's hips. His caresses moved up the warrior's well-defined belly until stopping just above his cock, which throbbed in a silent plea for attention.
Mydei couldn't hold back a moan when he felt the first direct caress. His head fell back, exposing the line of his neck as his body trembled with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation.
"Your body is just perfect,” he murmured, “so well endowed, with a big cock that just cries for attention."
His hands moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, stroking back and forth as he paused to explore his sacs gently. Each squeeze and tug was measured, meant to elicit the sweetest reactions from Mydei. The warrior, caught between pleasure and frustration, let out choked moans that filled the room.
However, the heat of Mydei's cheeks pressed against his erection began to prove too much for Phainon. Determined to change course, he reversed positions in one fluid motion. This time, he let Mydei's face rest against the soft pillows, exposing his arched back and perfect ass.
Firmly, Phainon held Mydei's hips, admiring the trophy now before him. His hands reverently squeezed the fleshy, worked globes, reveling in the softness and firmness that seemed made to be claimed.
"Phai..." the nickname escaped Mydei's lips, a soft, vulnerable sound.
The time Phainon had spent admiring and tracing every curve of Mydei's body was enough for the prince to begin to fret. The gentle nickname, one he had so far only heard from Tribbie, felt like a whisper as fiery as the embers of a boiling cauldron.
Phainon let out a satisfied smile as he ran his tongue across his lips. He knew the night was still young, and there was no reason to rush.
"Don't be impatient, Mydei, I want to appreciate every part of you with the attention you deserve."
He positioned himself behind Mydei's back, his hands moving with increasing familiarity to the prince's ruddy nipples. His fingers caught them again, tugging them insistently and delighting in his partner's immediate response. Each tug caused Mydei to arch his back, instinctively seeking to brush his ass against Phainon's erection. Mydei's moans echoed like an enchanting chant filling the room.
"Who knew your breasts were so sensitive?" Phainon mischievously leaned down to whisper close to Mydei's ear. "Is that why you always expose them? Did you wish someone would take care of them?"
The blush on Mydei's face spread to the tips of his ears. His mouth twitched in an attempt to retort, but he could only slowly shake his head, his dignity faltering under the unrelenting attention.
"Stop calling them such vulgar names,” he managed to say, though his voice lacked firmness.
Phainon smiled, pleased with the reaction, and gave an experimental thrust with his hips. The contact drew another high-pitched moan from Mydei, a sound so sincere and vulnerable that it ignited the hero even more.
"Aren't they? They're big, round, and your pink nipples... A forbidden fruit in everyone's eyes."
After a moment more of playing with Mydei's nipples, Phainon decided to release them. His lips began a downward journey, leaving a trail of kisses from the nape of Mydei's neck to the pronounced depressions of Venus on his lower back. His warm breath contrasted with the tingling of his lips, sending shivers through the prince's body.
Phainon brought his attention to Mydei's ass cheeks. He placed his thumbs in a comfortable position and gently spread them apart, exposing it. His breathing stopped for a moment as he let out a slight “oh”, marveling at how pink and inviting the hole in front of him was.
Without much thought, Phainon leaned down and rested his lips on the ring of muscle. The contact sent an electric shock through Mydei's body, which lost balance on its elbows. An intense shiver ran down his spine, connecting his belly to his hole and penis in an endless loop of stabbing sensations.
"Phai...non...! Mgh..." Phainon's name escaped Mydei's lips in a halting whisper, heavy with need.
Phainon smiled to himself before sticking out his tongue, beginning to explore with experimental licks. From the perineum to the edge of the tight canal, his tongue traced a path that sent ripples of pleasure through Mydei's body. He alternated between licking and briefly thrusting his muscle inside the canal, each movement designed to etch Mydei's taste and texture into his memory.
"You are so tight for me, my good prince... Your hole squeezes me so hard every time my tongue withdraws..."
His hands gripped Mydei's cheeks firmly, just enough to leave them marked with a subtle reddish hue. Every gasp that escaped the prince's lips found echoes in Phainon's panting, an accompaniment that intensified the connection between them.
Phainon returned his attention to the tight ring of muscle, sliding his tongue once more into the hole. Each movement was deep, slurping, as he delighted in the stifled moans of Mydei, now trembling beneath him.
"Phai...non...I'm close...!"
The thought of making Mydei cum with his mouth alone was a delicious temptation, but Phainon had other plans to prolong the evening. He withdrew his tongue with a swiftness that made the prince let out a moan of frustration at the lack of stimulation. Without missing a beat, the hero held Mydei's hips firmly, guiding each movement.
"Put your legs together, Mydei. I'm going to use you for a moment,” he ordered.
Reluctantly, Mydei obeyed, barely prepared for the sensation that followed. He gasped as he felt Phainon's hard, wet penis nestle between his thighs. The friction was intense, each thrust causing Phainon's member to poke just below his cock, which was receiving the stimulation he had so longed for in full.
“Ah... Mydei... Your thighs are incredible... Your whole body is erogenous, and it is impossible for me to resist your charms,” Phainon confessed between gasps, his voice trembling with pleasure.
The wet friction, the constant slapping of Phainon's pelvis against Mydei's buttocks and testicles, and the hero's weight supporting his waist were too much. Mydei felt his will fade, replaced by the overwhelming pleasure that consumed him. If the gods weren't his undoing, Phainon definitely would be.
"Ugh... Pha... Phai!" his eyes soon filled with tears, his face disheveled as drool slid down the corner of his mouth. He was drenched in sweat, every pole exuding lust and pure desire.
Phainon wasted no time. Taking advantage of Mydei’s feverish state, he slid two fingers inside his hole while continuing to stimulate his own member between the prince’s tight thighs. The fingers moved deftly, exploring and stretching his anus in a steady rhythm. Each movement was designed to prepare Mydei, stretching his skin expertly as he came undone in moans and gasps. The prince panted loudly, his body shaking at the double stimulation.
However, Mydei’s anus, soon yielding to the constant rocking of Phainon’s hips and the persistence of his fingers, contracted hard in a final spasm. A long moan escaped the prince’s lips as he reached his climax, his body shaking as strips of semen fell onto the sheets and his abdomen. His figure was reduced to a bundle of spent muscles, every fiber of his being dominated by ecstasy.
Phainon paused for a moment, incredulous at the sight before him. A victorious smile spread across his face as he took in the prince, vulnerable and beautiful in his surrender. “Good boy, my pretty prince,” he murmured tenderly, leaning down to caress Mydei’s sweaty back. In one swift movement, he reversed positions, placing the prince sitting on his lap. Phainon’s arms circled his waist, pinning him down with a mix of possessiveness and devotion. “You’ll let me fuck you now, won’t you?”
Mydei, caught in the haze of ecstasy, was slow to react. By the time his mind managed to process the words, Phainon had already begun to sink into his body. The prince gasped, his back arching as he felt Phainon’s thick member fill him completely, to the hilt. The overstimulation made him moan loudly, his shaking hands gripping the hero’s neck, searching for an anchor amidst the whirlwind of pleasure and pain that consumed him.
“Ah… Mydei…!” Phainon gasped. “You’re so hot and you squeeze me so good… You took it all so easily. Ha… You’re made to ride me and let me abuse your little hole.”
An experimental thrust shook Mydei's body, drawing a sob that was as much pleasure as pain. Phainon's words, whispered hoarsely, echoed like a mantra in the prince's ears, enveloping him in a spiral of sensations impossible to ignore.
Mydei's cock, trapped between their bellies, vibrated as he experienced the extreme sensitivity that coursed through his body after orgasm. Every brush against Phainon's skin was a burning reminder of his vulnerability and desire.
"Like that... you're taking it so well..." Phainon held him firmly by the hips, guiding him in a rhythm that left them both panting.
Instinctively, Mydei's fingers slid over his own abdomen, stopping right where Phainon had mentioned he'd love to be. Feeling the bulge moving inside his body, a shiver ran down his spine. The sensation led him to begin moving his hips on his own initiative, finding a rhythm that amplified the intensity of the pleasure for both of them.
Phainon smiled, marveling at his prince’s response, and leaned down to capture Mydei’s lips in a deep kiss.
To Phainon’s eyes, everything about Mydei screamed erotic. Seeing him so unarmed, his hair messily clinging together from the sweat that beaded on his skin, was a sight that would have inspired the envy of the gods. The bright red and purple markings that decorated his hips were evidence of Phainon’s passionate claim. If this instant was a dream, Kephale hear him, may no one ever wake him.
A flash of possessiveness flashed through Phainon’s mind, igniting him. Guided by that impulse, he leaned down to Mydei’s breast, capturing one of his nipples between his lips. The suction was intense and deliberate, causing the prince to moan with a mix of pleasure and frustration. Mydei sensed his intentions as he felt the increasing pressure, but the erratic rhythm of his own hips, moving over Phainon's penis, stole any chance of resistance from him.
"Don't be... an idiot...!" he tried to protest, but his voice trembled under the weight of the sensations overwhelming him.
Phainon, like a stubborn puppy refusing to let go of his toy, continued his task until a deep purple mark was left on Mydei's nipple. The hero smiled with satisfaction, his warm breath caressing the prince's reddened skin.
"I don't want to share you..." he murmured jealously. "I want you to only think of me when you feel thirsty, that only my hands, my mouth and my cock can make you cum."
The innuendo, as sultry as it was hot, further inflamed the atmosphere. The circumference of Phainon's penis swelled slightly inside Mydei's tight anus, causing a moan to resonate in the prince's chest.
“Ah, Mydeimos… What I would give to fill you again and again. Will you let me claim you again?”
“Fuck, yes, whatever… Phainon… I’m close!”
Those words were all Phainon needed to act. His cock hit the bundle of sensitive nerves that was Mydei’s prostate and he unleashed his semen with force. The effect was immediate: the prince arched his back, a gasp escaping his lips as his body shook uncontrollably. His orgasm was intense, almost earth-shattering, sending waves of pleasure through his being. Strings of semen stained his belly and chest, as Phainon continued to hold him tightly, guiding him through the most satisfying climax he had experienced to date.
The events after his encounter with the crown prince blurred in his memory, as if they were shrouded in a dense, confusing fog. There were moments that seemed as real as the breath that now filled his chest, but they were also fleeting, almost unreal. He even came to think that it had all been a dream that was too vivid. He woke up naked, but in his own room, with the dawn seeping through the cracks in the window.
The shock of reality earned him a disappointed sigh. The memory of Mydei, his arched body and his blushing face, mixed with the words the prince had whispered to him before the end: the consent to meet again in this way. Phainon shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts that threatened to consume him.
He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, letting himself be enveloped by the icy spray of the shower. The cold water was a momentary relief for his mind and body, but it did not completely erase the image of Mydei from his memory. “You have a mission to accomplish!” he reminded himself aloud, as if those words could strengthen his resolve. Okhema trusted him, his ability as a member of the Chrysos Heirs, and could not afford distractions.
Convincing himself that it had all been a dream, he finished dressing, taking his weapons and belongings before heading to meet Aglaea. The streets of the city were quieter than usual, and the path to the large enclosure had a solemn air that aligned with the gravity of his mission. However, just before entering, his gaze caught something that stopped his steps: the figure of Castorice next to Mydei.
The prince had his back turned, and Phainon, driven by the desire not to disappoint his people, quickened his pace to join them.
“Cas, Dei, good morning!” he greeted energetically, his voice echoing in the morning air.
They both turned to him upon hearing this, and in that instant all the determination he had built up crumbled like a sand castle. Phainon’s gaze fell on Mydei’s chest, partially covered by bandages that looked fresh. His dismay was so evident that the slight blush on Mydei’s cheeks made him feel a scorching heat rising to his own face.
“Mr. Phainon… when I told you yesterday afternoon to visit Lord Mydei, I didn’t do it thinking that you would fight and end up hurting each other,” Castorice commented in a reproachful tone, although he couldn’t entirely hide his curiosity.
Phainon, caught between embarrassment and the need to dissemble, quickly came up with an excuse:
“Ah, I, well… A little pre-training isn’t a bad idea to warm up before a big battle,” he said, trying to sound casual as he scratched the back of his head.
Castorice sighed, clearly unconvinced.
“I hope Lady Aglaea doesn’t scold you for this,” she replied in a firm tone, but without hiding a slight hint of concern.
Before they could respond, Mydei interrupted the conversation with his usual thick voice, without showing a trace of discomfort or displeasure:
“Come on, we’re running late.”
Phainon couldn’t help himself. The mix of relief and the familiar sound of Mydei’s voice caused a big smile to appear on his lips, a love-struck puppy smile that completely gave him away.
“Let’s go!” he exclaimed enthusiastically.