Ch. 107 – You’ve Been Saying “Me”

"Oh wow... Dione..."

Rhys couldn't stop the breathy, appreciative words from slipping past his lips as his eyes slowly trailed down her transformed, radiant figure.

Dione’s pale cheeks instantly flushed a vibrant, ethereal turquoise. "Thank you, Rhys," she murmured softly, stepping closer as her luminous blue eyes sparkled with unadulterated adoration. "I made sure to become my absolute best... only for my one and only."

Wow, Rhys thought dumbly, his brain momentarily misfiring under her intense aura. I’m gonna lose this battle, aren’t I?

Yeah, pretty much, the dark, shadowy alter-ego chucked directly in his mind. The dark figure stepped out of the periphery, its glowing eye-slits fixed on the sea goddess. I have been waiting for THIS one in particular.

Before Rhys could even muster the mental brainpower to ask what the hell Omen meant by that, his physical body acted on raw, primal instinct. Drawn to her like gravity, Rhys stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Dione let out a soft sigh, melting entirely into his embrace and pressing her face into the crook of his neck to inhale his scent.

"AHEM!"

A loud, furious throat-clearing shattered the moment.

Rhys’s eyes snapped wide open over her shoulder. Standing less than two feet away was Arthur—Dione’s husband, a bald, stocky, middle-aged retired knight.

Ahhh, yikes... Rhys panicked internally. Don't know how I didn't see him standing right there!

Flashing an innocent, public-facing smile beneath his mask, Rhys awkwardly unclasped his arms from Dione and took a quick step back. "Arthur! My honored guest! It’s a absolute pleasure to see you too!"

Arthur crossed his thick arms over his chest, his brow furrowed into a deep, unimpressed scowl. "Y'huh. Okay." He looked Rhys up and down, glaring at his hands. "If it’s alright with you... as your 'honored guest'... could you make sure you keep all your happy little 'honor' completely off my wife?"

Same gruff bastard as last time, Rhys thought, fighting back a smirk.

Is that a threat?! A direct challenge right to my face?! Omen growled, swelling with dark power as it loomed over the short, round retired knight.

Alright, calm it down, Rhys snapped at the shadow, quickly tapping into the siphoned energy from Shula still firing through his synapses. His mind was working at lightning speed now. He analyzed the scene in a millisecond: Arthur had clearly witnessed the entire embrace, and Dione had zero shame, still trying to subconsciously lean back into Rhys's space.

Stepping backward, Rhys let out a hearty, dismissive laugh. "Ah, Arthur, forgive me! I was honestly just completely thrown off seeing how incredible Dione looks tonight! I’m so used to seeing her with flour smudged all over her face from the kitchen—it’s just been a while, you know?"

Arthur grunted, his arms remaining tightly locked. "Yeah, well, you two were working together before you went and fired her. All because our damn dog somehow found your lost shirt and took it for a spin in our backyard, right? Just wrong... especially after that man-to-man talk we had. Not really cool, Rhys."

Rhys took in the scolding, reading right through Arthur's tough exterior. The retired knight wasn't just jealous; he was genuinely pissed that Rhys had fired his wife over a bizarre misunderstanding, feeling like she had been mistreated.

"And you didn't even manage to get me an autograph from Astrea," Arthur grumbled, referencing Lira's hero persona. "What do you have to say to all that?"

Rhys put up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Look, man, I'm trying to be as real with you as I can. I only let Dione’s catering services go because I felt like it was obviously becoming a strain on your household."

I'm trying to give you a hint, man, Rhys added mentally. Your wife is constantly coming my way, and you really shouldn't want that.

"Besides," Rhys said out loud, flashing a smooth smile, "she was only able to show up dressed so magnificently tonight because you are her one and only, after all."

Arthur’s gruff demeanor instantly thawed. He puffed out his chest, completely swallowing the lie. "Yeah... I guess you’re right about that. She really does look stunning tonight," he softened, placing a heavy, affectionate hand on Dione’s shoulder.

Dione visibly flinched at her husband's touch, snapped out of her romantic trance with Rhys.

That was actually smart, Omen conceded in Rhys's head.

Thank you, I guess, Rhys replied.

The dark figure let out a sinister, echoing laugh. Oh, don’t thank me... because my praise only makes it worse for what I’m going to have to do to his wife now.

Rhys was utterly mortified. We really DON'T have to do anything to her, man! That’s the point!

Omen ignored him, stepping directly between Arthur and Dione, its shadowy claws creeping closer to her glowing frame.

"Ah, sweetie," Dione spoke up suddenly, looking up at Arthur. "I told you how much I was helping Rhys with developing his menu, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose you did," Arthur huffed, picking up a passing appetizer from a tray. "Why bring it up now? The man fired you."

Dione looked past her husband, her gaze locking onto Rhys. "The crowd in the ballroom is getting massive. Even though Rhys let me go for my own sake, I still want to help him as much as I can with serving tonight."

Arthur chewed on his appetizer, his annoyance completely neutralized by the gourmet food. "Yeah, I think that’s alright with me. I’ll just... stay right here by the open bar then."

Rhys looked at the retired knight, feeling a sudden wave of genuine pity. Haah... oh well, I guess, Rhys thought, a small layer of smugness rising beneath his mask. I really did try to get the point across to you, man.

"Dione, really, it should be fine," Rhys insisted aloud. "I’ll be able to manage the floor with the extra staff I called in."

You aren’t stopping this for me, the dark figure purred, now standing directly behind Dione like a specter.

Dione’s eyes flickered with a sudden, heartbroken disappointment, looking as though Rhys had just betrayed the unspoken connection they had shared seconds ago. "I don't doubt your temporary staff can run plates, Rhys... but I am one of the only people who actually knows how to handle your kitchen properly."

Rhys looked down into her eyes, feeling entirely helpless against the fierce, unyielding adoration shining up at him. But as he stared at her, his vision caught Omen looming menacingly over her shoulder.

A chilling realization suddenly clicked in Rhys's mind.

Hold on a second... Rhys thought sharply, staring directly at the dark alter-ego. You’ve been saying a lot of "ME" and not "WE" lately...