Date: January 2, 2018 | Time: 12:28 AM
Location: The Inn – Celia's Room
Perspective: Kaiser
The hallway of the inn was a blur of polished wood and flickering candlelight as Celia dragged me along.
"Celia, hey—we're here. I can go to my own room now," I muttered, trying to regain some semblance of my dignity.
"No," she said. "Come with me."
She pulled me into her room—a space that smelled faintly of roses and something metallic—and the moment I crossed the threshold, I heard the heavy thud of the door closing.
Then came the sound that makes every man's soul leave his body: the distinct click-clack of a lock turning from the inside.
She leaned against the door for a second, her white hair casting long, jagged shadows against the wood. Then, she started walking toward me. Slowly. Her red eyes were locked onto mine with an intensity.
Right. She's definitely still simmering from this morning.
Leaving her at the market was a mistake. I've faced down monsters with less killing intent than what was currently radiating off her petite frame. It was high time to deploy the only weapon I had left: a sincere apology.
"Look, Celia," I said, holding up my hands in a universal sign of peace.
"I'm sorry for leaving you at the market. Something urgent came up—a lead I had to investigate immediately. I didn't mean to just vanish on you. I promise, next time, I'll tell you exactly what's happening before I move."
She stopped just inches from me, her eyes scanning my face.Then, her hand reached out—not to choke me, thankfully—and grabbed mine.
"Sit," she commanded, gesturing to her bed.
I sat. At this point, arguing seemed like a great way to end up as a permanent fixture in this room.
"Apology accepted," she said softly.
Wait. What?
I blinked, my mind racing through a hundred different scenarios.
That's it? No 'Who was the girl with the pink hair?' No 'Why were you holding her hand?' No chains to the bed? This is too calm.
This is 'calm before the hurricane' levels of suspicious. Does she know about Eve? Or is she just so confident in her 'wife' status that she doesn't even view other women as competition?Either she's a genius at mental warfare, or I've managed to dodge a literal bullet.
"Are you hungry, Kai?" she asked, her voice suddenly shifting into that sweet, domestic lilt that always caught me off guard.
"I actually had some dinner brought up earlier. I figured you'd be starving after your... 'investigation.'"
"Yeah, I'm hungry, but—"
Before I could finish, she was across the room, moving with a grace that was almost haunting. She returned a moment later with a tray. It was simple but smelled incredible: warm, crusty flatbread and a bowl of some sort of dark, spicy meat stew that smelled of cumin and peppers.
She sat down right next to me. Close.
"Hey, Celia? May I ask you something?" I asked, watching her carefully.
"Of course~" she chirped, a small, genuine-looking blush dusting her cheeks.
"You can ask me anything, Kai."
"Aren't you... mad at me? Or angry?"
She paused, tilting her head like a curious bird. "Huh? Why would I be that? I'm your wife, Kai. I'd never be angry at you."
The way she said it—so matter-of-fact, so delusional, yet so sincere—made a shiver run down my spine. She wasn't my wife. We weren't even dating. But in her head, the soulmate was already signed in blood.
Instead of picking up a spoon, she tore off a piece of the bread with her bare fingers, scooped up a generous portion of the spicy meat, and wrapped it expertly. She held it up to my lips, her eyes gleaming.
"Say ahhh~"
"Celia, I have hands," I said, reaching for the bread. "I can eat myself—"
Clink.
A shimmer of black Cursed chains shot up from the shadows of the bedframe, wrapping gently but firmly around my wrists, pinning them to my sides.
"No, no, no," Celia pouted, her lower lip trembling in a way that was half-bratty child, half-terrifying mistress.
"A good wife feeds her husband. I will feed you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's my job, Kai. Don't try to take that away from me."
I raised an eyebrow, looking down at my bound hands, then back at her wide, expectant eyes. I sighed. There was no winning here.
"Fine. Feed me."
Her face lit up like a sunburst. She looked genuinely, blissfully happy as she pressed the bread against my lips. I took a bite—the spice hit my tongue, hot and savory—and she watched me chew with a level of focus that was honestly a bit unsettling.
"Is it good? It's good, right?" she asked, reaching out with her thumb to catch a stray drop of sauce at the corner of my mouth. She didn't use a napkin; she just wiped it away and then licked her own thumb, her eyes never leaving mine.
I waited until she had the fork in her hand for the next bite, then I leaned forward.
"My turn," I said, my voice dropping into that lower, more assertive register.
She paused, her eyes widening. I took a piece of the bread from the tray—my chains loosening just enough to let me move my fingers—and held it out to her.
"Ahh," I mimicked.
Celia froze. A deep, violent red flush spread from her neck all the way to the tips of her ears. Then, a slow, shaky smile spread across her face. She leaned in, taking the offering from my hand with a soft, fluttery sigh.
I was eating dinner with the beautiful queen of curses, and the worst part? The food was actually pretty good.
The tray was empty, the spicy kick of the stew still lingering on my tongue. I figured that was my cue to make a retreat before things got any more... romantic.
I pushed myself up, shaking out my wrists as the Cursed chains finally dissolved into the floorboards like morning mist.
"Dinner was great, Celia. Seriously. I'm going to head to my room now and—"
Grab.
She just reached out, her fingers locking around the hem of my shirt with the strength of a drowning sailor. Before I could even register the movement, she pulled me.
I stumbled back, hitting the mattress with a soft thud.
"No," she said, crawling over the bed until she was hovering over me, her white hair draping around us like a silken curtain.
"You're sleeping here. With me. I have to keep you safe, Kai. I have to protect you."
I stared up at her. She looked so dead serious, as if there were an army of assassins waiting in the hallway specifically for me. I looked at her small hands, her delicate frame, and the sheer absurdity of the situation hit me.
"Protect me, huh?" I chuckled, sitting up.
Before she could react, I reached out, hooked my hands under her arms, and hoisted her up into the air.
"Hey—! Kai!" She squeaked, her legs dangling and kicking uselessly.
"You're so smol, Celia," I said, holding her at eye level. Up close, her red eyes were wide with genuine shock, her face turning a shade of crimson.
"How are you supposed to protect me when I can literally carry you around like a plushie?"
"I-I'm not smol! I'm the Queen of Curses! I could level this inn!" she sputtered, her hands fluttering as she tried to regain some dignity while being suspended mid-air.
"Put me down! This is... this is undignified for a wife!"
"Fine, fine," I laughed, pulling her closer and setting her down right on my lap. I wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her steady. "Thank you for the meal, wife."
She instantly deflated, her protest dying in her throat as she leaned her head against my shoulder.
"Y-You're welcome... hubby," she whispered, the blush still burning bright.
Yeah, she's definitely crazy. Crazy for me.
I started rubbing the back of her head, my fingers threading through that soft hair. She let out a long, shaky breath, her body melting into mine.
"Mmmmmmm..." A tiny, kitten-like sound escaped her.
"You like that?" I asked, patting her head gently.
"Yes..." she breathed, her eyes half-closing. "Don't stop. Never stop."
I looked at her, really looked at her, and the question that had been hovering in the back of my mind for weeks finally slipped out.
"Celia... I want to know something about you."
She hummed, looking up at me with a dreamy expression. "Yes?"
"What moment in your life shaped you the most?" I asked. "What made you... you?"
I expected a long story about her training, or the first time she used Cursed magic. But she didn't even hesitate. She just looked at me, her expression turning hauntingly soft.
"That's easy," she said. "It's you. I love you, Kai."
"I figured you'd say that," I said, a small smile playing on my lips. "But why? What was the moment?"
She pretended to think for a second, her finger tapping her chin, before her gaze sharpened.
"The time you disappeared. When I thought you were gone for good... I realized then that I can't live without you. If you were gone, I'd lose my reason to breathe. You are my everything, Kai."
"You were there when I was at my weakest, when the world felt cold... and you'll be there at my best now. Because you're all mine. Only mine."
I definitely messed up today.
Leaving her like that... I saw the flash of that old trauma in her eyes. Our beginnings were rough; I'll admit I wanted to use her power at first, a tool for my own ends. But looking at her now, tucked against me and radiating this terrifyingly pure devotion... it's different.
I need to make it up to her. I'll give her something—a gift, something she can keep forever to remind her I'm not going anywhere.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said firmly, pulling her a little tighter. "I won't leave you again. You're always my first priority, Celia. I promise."
"I'll keep you safe, Kai," she whispered.
"I'm madly in love with you. I'll become so strong that you'll never need anyone else."
She pulled back then, her expression shifting from vulnerable to demanding in a heartbeat. She pouted, her lower lip jutting out.
"Give your wife a kiss," she commanded.
I smiled, leaned in, and planted a quick, firm kiss on her cheek.
"Not there!" she shrieked, looking offended.
"What? I gave you a kiss," I said, playing dumb.
"Not on the cheek! I'm your wife! Where do husbands kiss wives?"
"On the forehead?" I suggested, suppressing a grin.
"Kai! No! The lips! Give me!"
"I don't know," I said, leaning back and yawning dramatically.
"I'm pretty tired. Eating all that spicy food really took it out of me. Maybe tomorrow?"
"Nuh-uh! No! Now!" She started scrambling up my chest, her hands framing my face.
"I want a kiss! I deserve a kiss! I fed you! I've been so good!"
"You've been 'so good,' huh? Is that the bar now?" I teased, dodging as she lunged for my mouth. "C'mon, Celia, go to sleep."
"I can't sleep without my husband's kiss! It's a requirement!" She was practically growling now, as she tried to pin my head against the pillows. "Give it to me! Kai! Don't be mean!"
"I'm not being mean, I'm being sleepy," I laughed, holding her wrists.
"I don't care! I'll bite you! I'll use the chains!"
"You wouldn't."
"Try me!"
She looked so ridiculously cute—hair messy, face red, eyes shining with a mix of frustration and adoration—that I finally stopped resisting. I let go of her wrists, and she immediately seized the opportunity.
She wrapped her arms around my head, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me into her. It was deep, desperate, and tasted faintly of the spices from dinner and the cold, sweet scent of roses. She kissed me like she was trying to mark my very soul, claiming every inch of me as her own.
The warmth of her skin was an immediate, overwhelming distraction.
Before I could even settle into the mattress, Celia was pulling me down, her hands guiding my face directly against her chest. She wrapped her legs and arms around me in a proprietary tangle, like a vine claiming a statue.
"I'll keep you safe," she whispered, her voice vibrating against my ear.
She shifted slightly, her fingers trailing a slow path up my arm and across my back. "Is my chest comfy and soft, Kai? It's like your pillow, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I managed to grumble, my voice muffled against her.
A very warm, very dangerous pillow.
She leaned in closer, her breath hot against my neck. "I'm not wearing a bra, you know. Just so you can feel more at ease. You can do anything you want. Touch me... anywhere."
Okay, she's definitely moved from 'wifey' to 'siren' mode.
Trying to seduce me now.
I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. Interesting. She's bold, I'll give her that.
"I'm also not wearing... something else," she added, her voice dropping to a low, suggestive purr. "It's just us, Kai. You can mark me. Make me yours tonight. What do you say?"
I took a breath, trying to regain my internal peace.
"I'd like to not continue this conversation,"
Celia pulled back just enough to look at me, her lower lip out in a full-blown pout.
"I was setting the mood! Why!"
"Celia, you're only 16. Stop it—"
"I'm turning 18 this year!" she shouted, her face turning that familiar, indignant shade of pink.
"I'm practically an adult!"
"Yeah? Then we'll talk once you're actually 18," I teased, reaching up to flick her nose.
"No! No! I want it now!" she whined, squirming on top of me like a frustrated toddler.
"You're just horny," I said flatly.
She froze. The blush intensified until I thought she might actually catch fire. She buried her face in my shoulder, let out a muffled scream of embarrassment, and slapped my chest weakly.
"Fine! We can wait! You're so mean!"
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Crisis averted. Thank god.
As she finally settled down, still grumbling under her breath about "mean husband," my mind began to drift. The softness of the bed and the warmth of the room were nice, but I couldn't afford to get too comfortable.
Tomorrow was going to be a grind. I needed to handle the accounting—track every copper we spent—and start the shopping list. If I really wanted this plan to succeed, I needed more than just magic. I needed hardware. Circuits, mechanical parts, custom weaponry... and mana potions. Tons of them.
I looked at the ceiling, calculating.
One year. I have one year to make this work. If I can get politics ready, I can fix celestine.
Celia shifted again, her hand moving toward the buttons of her nightshirt.
"You know, you'd feel much comfier if I were to undress—"
"Goodnight, Celia," I cut her off, closing my eyes firmly.
"Ughhh! Fine!" she huffed, finally falling still and wrapping herself around my arm like a limpet.
"Goodnight. But I'm not going to stop trying. You're my husband, after all."
She's intense,and definitely dirty-minded.
I have to keep my control around her. Not just because of her age, but because she's so emotionally dependent.
She's too immature to realize that a relationship isn't just about "marking" someone or playing house; she doesn't understand the weight of what she's asking for.
Once that act is done, there is no return.
I'll protect her—even if that means protecting her from myself.
But for now... I'm exhausted. Between the market, Eve, and Celia's "wife" routine, my brain is fried.
I'll worry about the celestine-domination and shopping list tomorrow.
Tonight, I just need to sleep.