Chapter 1102: Runa Delacour

Chapter 1102 – Runa Delacour

Lux nodded. "I believe you. Because you came down here annoyed that my pheromones were too strong, then stole my tea, then looked at my chest three times."

Aela’s eyes widened. "I did not."

[Four times now.]

A puppet maid entered again with more food and placed another cup of tea in front of Aela.

Aela looked at it.

Then at Lux’s cup.

Then very calmly kept Lux’s cup.

The puppet maid paused.

Lux said, "Let her have it."

"Understood, my lord."

The maid left.

Aela stared into the tea as if it contained answers. "You really did not mean to affect everyone?"

"No."

Her gaze shifted to him.

Lux’s expression had changed.

Still tired. Still amused. Still too handsome for peace.

But sincere.

"The blessing reacted strongly. Gula chose me, Lullaby came because the pheromones reached her, then Sira returned, and after that..." He waved one hand vaguely. "It escalated."

Aela’s brows lifted. "That is your explanation?"

"Yes."

Aela stared at him over the rim of the stolen tea cup.

Lux looked unfairly relaxed for a man who had just described mansion-wide pheromone disaster as if it were a supply chain delay. He sat shirtless at the dining table, hair loose, scratches across his chest, bite marks low near his collarbone, and coffee in hand like the only thing preventing him from declaring war on the morning.

Aela hated that the image worked.

It worked too well.

The First Elf had seen ancient kings. Primordial beasts. Spirits wearing human bones. Demon lords who thought cruelty was perfume.

Lux Vaelthorn, however, was an entirely different category of problem.

He looked like sin after breakfast.

No.

Before breakfast.

Aela forced her eyes back to the tea.

"The pheromones," she said, "are those what changed that cat sorcerer too?"

Lux paused with a fork halfway to his mouth. "No."

Aela looked at him.

"I don’t think so," he added. "Her transformation was likely caused by mana replenishment from Lyra’s milk mixture, your healing residue, soul pressure, and the vessel adapting to the dominant soul."

Aela blinked. "You just explained that properly."

"I am capable of professionalism."

Aela narrowed her eyes faintly. "But you are not completely certain."

"No." Lux took another bite. "But you can ask her yourself."

Aela followed his gaze.

There, half-hidden behind one of the dining room pillars, stood the cat sorcerer.

Still wearing Lux’s oversized black shirt.

Runa had tried very hard to look dignified.

It was not going well.

The shirt swallowed her shoulders and fell down to mid-thigh, the sleeves hanging past her wrists. Her hair spilled around her face, still slightly damp from the cold shower. Cat ears poked up through the waves, twitching as if they were reporting every emotional crime she tried to hide. Her tail curled behind the pillar like an embarrassed question mark.

Her eyes were fixed on Lux.

No.

Not fixed.

Strategically monitoring.

There was a difference.

A deeply important difference.

Unfortunately, Lux noticed.

He leaned back in his chair, coffee in hand, bare chest exposed like a public indecency lawsuit waiting to happen, and smiled at her.

"Come here and eat with us, kitty. You haven’t eaten dinner either."

Runa’s ears shot up.

Her face flushed.

"Runa Delacour," she snapped. "Not kitty."

Lux’s gaze sharpened, but he did not press immediately.

Runa left the pillar with slow, careful steps. Her body still moved like someone remembering how limbs worked after centuries of being architecture. Her balance was better than last night, but not perfect. The cat part of her made each step oddly graceful, while the human pride part insisted that everyone pretend she had not almost tripped over the hem of Lux’s shirt.

She sat near Aela.

Not beside Lux.

Absolutely not beside Lux.

Because Lux’s body was practically a sin magnet.

Even from across the table, he was irritating. Shirtless, marked, warm-eyed, coffee-dark, and scented faintly of everything she had spent half the night trying to defeat with soap, perfume, and moral superiority.

And since she was a cat.

Or half.

Or whatever this cursed biological scandal was.

She refused to get closer.

The chair beside Aela was safe.

Safer.

Aela smelled like flowers, old forests, and judgemental serenity.

Much better.

Lux’s mouth curved. "Milk for Lady Runa."

A puppet maid appeared with horrifying timing and placed a cup before Runa.

Not a bowl.

A cup.

Elegant porcelain. Warm milk inside. Faint mana steam rising gently.

Runa stared at it.

Then at Lux.

Lux lifted his coffee. "For dignity."

Runa’s blush deepened. "I did not ask."

"You would have refused out loud while wanting it silently."

Aela sipped tea. "He is probably right."

Runa turned betrayed eyes toward her.

Aela looked away.

The puppet maid placed bread, fruit, and a small plate of eggs near Runa.

Runa’s stomach growled immediately.

Loud.

Brutal.

Undignified.

Lux and Aela said nothing.

Runa picked up the cup and drank.

The milk was good.

Warm, soft, rich with just enough mana to settle the ache in her bones. She held it in both hands, pretending she was merely evaluating its quality as a sorcerer. Not enjoying it. Certainly not feeling comforted.

Lux watched her with faint amusement. "You look well, Runa. The candle did its work, I guess."

Her fingers tightened around the cup.

She remembered the bathroom.

The half-dream feeling of being carried.

The candle beside the bed.

Her face warmed. "...Thank you."

Lux’s smile softened.

Runa immediately drank more milk to avoid looking at it.

Aela noticed.

Lux leaned back again. "So."

Runa’s ears twitched.

"Do you mind telling me what happened to you?" he asked. "Why did you become a tower?"

Runa went still.

The cup paused at her lips.

The dining room quieted.

Runa lowered the cup slowly.

Her gaze fell into the milk.

For a moment, she did not look like an angry cat sorcerer in an oversized shirt.

She looked like a woman standing under a bloody moon again.

Then she spoke.

"I was a human grand sorcerer. Rich, powerful, free. A demon answered my wrong summon and stayed near me. We became friends. Then he confessed. I refused. Again and again. He would not accept it. I told him to build one thousand magic towers in one night before dawn, hoping he would give up. He nearly finished. I sabotaged the towers with earth mana, and all nine hundred ninety-nine collapsed. He realized I ruined them. In rage, he used my sabotage against me and turned me into the final tower."

She stopped. Exactly enough.