Zuleika then stood up, grabbed a set of her spare clothes, and handed them over to Aquila.
"I can't believe… we just did it like that," Zuleika muttered under her breath, eyes trailing over Aquila as if still trying to process it.
"And in the middle of a war, no less," she added with a helpless chuckle.
Aquila shot her a glance while slipping into the black bra and underwear Zuleika had given her. Her silver eyes were sharp, yet her movements were unhurried, graceful even in something so mundane.
"So? You regret it?" Aquila arched a brow as she clasped the bra into place.
Zuleika smirked, leaned in close, and stole another kiss—quick, mischievous—her hand sliding up to cup Aquila's breast.
Aquila immediately furrowed her brows, pulling back just enough to glare. "Enough. You pervert."
Zuleika only laughed, unbothered, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "What? Can't blame me when you're right in front of me."
"Annoying," Aquila muttered, but her ears betrayed her, tinged with a faint red.
Zuleika's grin softened into something gentler.
"Can we sleep together?" she asked quietly, as though the thought of letting Aquila out of her arms again was unbearable.
Aquila narrowed her eyes, suspicious, as if expecting another ambush of wandering hands.
But instead of answering that, she simply flopped down on the small bed, still adjusting the long-sleeved shirt Zuleika had given her.
"I'm hungry," she declared, as if that settled everything.
Zuleika tilted her head, watching her stretch out on the thin mattress with an exasperated little sigh. "Should I grab you some food?"
"Mhm," Aquila hummed in reply, her tone already drowsy, like she was halfway to sleep before Zuleika could even move.
When Zuleika came back, balancing a silver tray with steaming soup, she found Aquila sprawled lazily on the small bed. She wore nothing but the oversized polo Zuleika had given her and a simple pair of undergarments—no pants, no effort to cover herself.
Zuleika raised a brow, setting the tray on the table. "Aren't you cold with only that?"
"It's winter, you know?" she added, pulling the chair closer as she sat down.
Aquila turned her head, silver eyes glinting in the candlelight, her expression unreadable.
"Hm? I don't get cold so easily."
"Right, of course you don't," Zuleika muttered, shaking her head with a faint smile. She reached for the bowl.
"Okay, get up, Princess. Here's your food."
Aquila pushed herself up into a seated position, legs folded neatly in an indian sit. She didn't take the bowl, though. She just… stared at Zuleika.
Zuleika blinked. "What?"
"Feed me," Aquila said plainly.
"Huh!?" Zuleika nearly dropped the spoon.
Aquila groaned softly, tilting her head with the faintest pout. "What? Is it so hard to do?"
Zuleika froze. Her heart skipped a beat. What's this… Aquila is asking me to feed her?
Her lips curved upward despite herself. Ahh… she's so cute. So, so cute. Is this who she really is when she loves someone?
Aquila's brows drew together, her patience thinning.
"Okay, okay, Princess," Zuleika relented, picking up the spoon.
"Stop calling me that," Aquila sighed, though her voice had softened.
"Alright… gorgeous," Zuleika countered with a grin.
That earned her a sharp glare, but Zuleika only laughed at the sight. She scooped a spoonful of soup and gently held it out.
Aquila leaned forward, lips parting just enough to take it. She didn't say anything, but the faint pink rising on her cheeks betrayed her, and Zuleika's chest squeezed at the sight.
One spoonful turned into another, and another—Zuleika feeding her with exaggerated care, Aquila pretending not to notice the tender look in her eyes.
"Come to think of it…" Zuleika said suddenly, eyes on the empty bowl at her side.
Aquila glanced up. "What?"
"What actually happened at the Feltogora Empire?" Zuleika asked, voice small.
Aquila flinched—only for a flicker—then masked it quickly. Zuleika saw the movement and immediately softened. "It's okay if you don't want to answer," she added, awkwardly.
Aquila blew out a slow breath. "The cause of my mother's death," she began, "wasn't a peasant uprising. It was… my brother, Althurd."
Zuleika's lips formed a quiet, shocked sound. "Huh? What? How?"
"You remember what you told me about the Mage Dweller?" Aquila asked.
"What about it?"
"That thing was inside Althurd. It was controlling him." Her voice was low, almost flat.
"That… that's absurd," Zuleika said gently, reaching out instinctively but stopping short as she read the guardedness in Aquila's face.
Aquila let out a humorless little sound. "Hah. Anyway. It doesn't bother me as much as it should." She gave a small, brittle smile.
"After the war, I'll find a place to disappear to. Somewhere quiet."
"You mean… won't you live with me?" Zuleika asked before she could stop herself.
Silence stretched for a beat—soft and full.
"Huh?" Aquila blinked.
"Aren't we… lovers?" Zuleika tried, confused and hopeful.
Aquila's mouth tightened; a faint color warmed her ears. She studied Zuleika for a long second as if weighing the world.
"You really want to be with me?"
"What? Of course," Zuleika answered immediately, earnest and a little fierce.
"Even if… I am no longer a princess?"
"Does that matter?" Zuleika said, baffled. "I love you because you're you—not because of bloodlines or crowns."
Aquila's breath hitched. In that confession she heard everything she'd always secretly wanted to hear: acceptance, steadiness, an uncomplicated kind of devotion. Her shoulders loosened as if a weight had shifted.
"You—say the cheesiest things," Aquila tried to scold, but the edge of her voice failed and a small smile tugged at her lips.
"Heh," Zuleika sulked, then looked suddenly shy. "You haven't said it yet."
"Said what?" Aquila asked, taking a slow sip of water to stall.
"That you love me. I haven't heard it from you." Zuleika pouted like a child—half teasing, half painfully sincere.
Aquila coughed, almost choking on the way her heart had jumped. "I—Is that important?" she spluttered, genuinely off-balance.
"Of course it is," Zuleika said, eyes bright and steady.
Aquila stared at her for a long beat, the firelight catching in her silver eyes. The war outside could wait. The roar of waves beyond the walls grew dim and distant.
Finally, softer than a pledge and rougher than a promise, Aquila's voice came out small and true:
"I—" She let the word hang, then dared to finish it, the confession like a stone dropped into still water.
"Ik hou van jou."
Zuleika blinked. Then furrowed her brows.
"…Huh?"
Aquila's lips twitched.
"HUH!?" Zuleika blurted louder, eyes wide. "What did you just say!? Is that a spell? Are you cursing me right now!?"
That did it. Aquila burst into genuine laughter, the kind that shook her shoulders. She tried to cover her mouth but failed, the sound spilling out unrestrained.
Zuleika pouted, flustered. "Don't laugh! I'm serious—what language was that!? You just confessed to me in some demon tongue, didn't you!?"
Still laughing, Aquila managed to gasp out, "In my Mother's language it means, I love you."
Zuleika froze, then her ears went red in an instant. "…Then just say that! Don't confuse me!"
"You should've seen your face," Aquila chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye.
"Hmph! You're so mean," Zuleika grumbled, crossing her arms dramatically. But her lips twitched despite herself.
Aquila only smiled, softer now. "Ik hou van jou," she repeated, slower this time.
Zuleika's pout melted, replaced by a sheepish grin. "...Fine. Whatever that means."
They were now lying down, Zuleika curled protectively around Aquila in her arms. She hummed something playful and off-key, earning a faint frown from the half-asleep princess.
"Say, when did you start—"
"Shhh. You have too much energy. Sleep," Aquila cut her off without opening her eyes.
Zuleika clicked her tongue. "Well, I can't sleep."
"I can tell. Your heart is beating so fast."
"What!? Why are you listening to that!?" Zuleika burst out, flustered.
Aquila didn't answer. Instead, she shifted closer, her body pressing against Zuleika's warmth.
"…So warm," Aquila murmured, her breath ghosting against Zuleika's skin.
Zuleika's face flamed. Gods, was she always this talkative and flirty? I can't take it. I'll lose myself because of her rather than the war itself…
"How come you're always warm, Via?" Aquila asked drowsily, voice soft as silk.
Zuleika blinked. "What did you just call me?"
"Hm? Isn't it your other name? Livia?" Aquila muttered lazily.
"It is… but why that?"
"I just tried it. Doesn't suit you. I prefer Zuleika," Aquila said, then exhaled deeply, her warm breath brushing against Zuleika's collarbone.
Zuleika shivered at the sensation. "A-anyway… it's because of my blood."
"What about your blood?"
"The Vasiliou blood… it's rare. We draw strength from it." Zuleika's hand gently stroked Aquila's soft hair.
"Ah… so it was true. I thought it was only a myth…" Aquila's voice trailed lower and lower.
"Mhm."
No reply came after that—only the sound of steady breathing, their warmth melding, the rhythm of their chests rising and falling together.
Zuleika's eyelids grew heavy, but before sleep could claim her, a thought burned quietly in her heart.
I'm so glad we made up. I was so close to accept the throne itself, just to steal her away if she truly got married. How stubborn of me… how unlike me. Do I love her that much?
Her gaze softened as she looked at the girl in her arms. The princess I used to hate is now sleeping peacefully against me… but Gods… please, just let her stay by my side. I'll do anything. Anything, if it means keeping her happy after this war is over.