Mikhailis blinked groggily as sunlight filtered through the thin material of the royal tent, illuminating the space in a gentle, golden glow. He could feel the warmth on his face, the light nudging him awake. He stretched his body slowly, his muscles protesting after a long, eventful night.
He sighed, pulling the blanket closer to his chest, but sothing tugged at the edge of his thoughts—a vague feeling that sothing wasn’t quite right. The tent was empty, and he found himself lying alone in his plush sleeping bag. It took a few monts for everything to co back to him, the events of last night replaying in his mind like a fever dream.
His eyes widened, his thoughts suddenly racing. Last night… There had been soone. But there was no trace—nothing that hinted at what had happened. Hastily, he pushed himself up on his elbows, scanning the tent. He grabbed the blanket, his eyes darting over the fabric, expecting so kind of sign—stains, rumpled sheets, sothing. But there was nothing.
The sheets were impeccably clean, almost unnaturally so. The sense of confusion gnawed at him. He furrowed his brow, scratching the back of his head as he tried to recall what had happened after the heated session. It had been intense—so intense, in fact, that it left him completely drained.
How did everything get cleaned up so quickly? he wondered.
He vaguely rembered sothing, a mory of his voice whispering into the darkness as exhaustion had overtaken him. He closed his eyes, letting the scene replay in his mind. The words ca back to him.
"Rodion, I’m leaving the cleaning to you."
Ah, that explained it.
He let out a sigh, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. He had left everything to Rodion. Of course, the AI had taken care of it.
He could imagine it now—Rodion receiving the order, that monotone voice acknowledging him with so snarky remark before executing the command. Mikhailis shook his head slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips. Even in the haze of exhaustion, he had thought of it.
I swear, without Rodion, I’d be lost.
Mikhailis took a deep breath, leaning back against the pillows, the mory of last night still lingering at the forefront of his thoughts. He couldn’t help but recall the feeling—the warmth, the closeness, the soft sighs and gasps. The intimacy of it all. But…who had it been? He cursed his foggy mory. It had been dark, and in the heat of the mont, he hadn’t even thought to check. And now, all evidence was gone, leaving him with nothing but vague recollections and questions.
A flashback started to form in his mind, a picture of Rodion working during the night.
Mikhailis could imagine the faint, chanical whirring as Rodion analyzed the situation. The AI had probably scanned the entire tent for biological traces, determining the extent of cleanup required. Mikhailis smiled to himself—it was almost ridiculous, how thorough Rodion was. He could envision the AI sending a silent command to the Chira Ant workers, the ants erging from hidden tunnels beneath the tent, their tiny forms skittering in precise movents.
The Worker Ants would have been careful, their tiny legs moving soundlessly across the tent floor. They would have gathered the sheets, using a combination of secreted enzys and cleaning solutions to remove any stains—a biological cleaning process far superior to anything humans had. Mikhailis had seen it before, how effective they could be at breaking down organic materials without leaving a trace.
Of course, Mikhailis thought, shaking his head.
Only Rodion could think of sothing like that.
Mikhailis sighed, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Trust Rodion to be blunt. There had been a kind of detached professionalism in that conclusion, and Mikhailis was grateful for it. The last thing he needed was a sarcastic remark about his romantic exploits.
He could picture it—the Worker Ants silently retreating back into their underground tunnels, the tent left pristine and orderly. Rodion would have noted the entire event in his system, but, thankfully, the AI understood the concept of discretion. Mikhailis rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake the haze from his mind.
There was still one question gnawing at him: Who was it? He had assud it was Lira at first—but the scent, the feel, the sound—everything was different. He let out a sigh, his mind trying to piece together the fragnted mories. It had been so dark, and everything had happened so quickly. He rembered her voice, soft and breathless, but it was too indistinct for him to recognize.
Before he could dwell on it further, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Your Highness, are you awake yet? Breakfast is ready," Lira called from outside the tent, her voice carrying the usual calm elegance she always had.
Mikhailis groaned, running a hand through his ssy hair as he tried to shake off the lingering drowsiness. He had more important things to focus on today than the mystery of last night’s partner. He pushed himself out of his sleeping bag, quickly getting dressed. The luxurious material of his outfit felt cool against his skin, the tailored fabric fitting perfectly as he adjusted his collar.
He stepped outside the tent, greeted by the crisp morning air of the forest. The camp was already bustling with activity—Lira, Vyrelda, and Cerys all sitting around a portable table set for breakfast. Lira looked up, giving him a small smile.
"Good morning, Your Highness," she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusent.
"Did you sleep well?"
Mikhailis returned the smile, though there was a flicker of unease in his eyes.
"Like a log," he replied, trying to keep his tone light.
As he approached the table, he couldn’t help but notice Vyrelda and Cerys. Both of them seed…different. There was an unusual brightness to their faces, a kind of glow that hadn’t been there before. They looked well-rested, almost radiant. Mikhailis studied them both, his gaze searching for any hint—a flicker of recognition, a lingering look—sothing to tell him if one of them had been the mysterious figure from last night.
But there was nothing. Vyrelda was busy adjusting her gear, her expression focused, while Cerys was sipping her tea, her eyes scanning the forest around them. Neither of them paid him any special attention, no lingering glances, no awkward avoidance. They were acting perfectly normal, which only deepened the mystery.
Did I imagine it? Mikhailis wondered.
No, it definitely happened.
He felt a mix of confusion and frustration. He was usually sharp, attentive—but sohow, in the heat of the mont, he had completely lost track of himself. He ntally kicked himself for being so careless.
Lira motioned for him to sit, her eyes holding a hint of curiosity.
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"Co, Your Highness. You need to eat."
Mikhailis nodded, taking a seat between Vyrelda and Cerys. He tried to act casual, his eyes flicking between the two won as they ate. The breakfast was simple but well-prepared—rations from the castle, dried ats, bread, and so preserved fruits. Lira had even brought out a small pot of tea, pouring him a cup as he settled in.
"You look like you had an interesting night, Your Highness," Lira said, her voice laced with sarcasm as she handed him the cup.
Mikhailis raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Interesting is one way to put it," he replied, taking a sip of the tea.
"Though I must admit, I’m still trying to piece it all together."
Lira gave him a knowing look, her eyes glinting with amusent.
"Is that so? Well, I’m sure it will co back to you eventually."
Mikhailis let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.
She knows sothing...?, he thought, but he wasn’t about to press the issue—not yet, anyway.
Instead, he turned his attention to Vyrelda and Cerys, watching them as they ate.
Vyrelda caught his gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Is sothing wrong, Your Highness?" she asked, her voice clipped.
Mikhailis blinked, shaking his head quickly.
"No, no. Just…admiring the morning," he said, offering her a smile.
She didn’t seem convinced, but she let it go, returning her focus to her al. Cerys, on the other hand, seed completely oblivious to his scrutiny, her attention fixed on the forest beyond the camp. Mikhailis sighed inwardly, his curiosity only growing.
As they continued eating, there was a lightness to the conversation. Vyrelda and Cerys exchanged the occasional glance, but neither gave anything away. Mikhailis played along, keeping his tone light, his deanor relaxed. He knew that if he pushed too hard, it might raise suspicion, so instead, he chose to wait—to observe.
After a while, the tension began to ease. Mikhailis found himself relaxing, the warmth of the morning sun, the sound of birdsong, and the gentle rustle of leaves calming his mind. He let out a breath, deciding that maybe it was better not to dwell on last night—at least, not right now. There was no sense in getting distracted, not with everything else they had to deal with.
If she was willing, and if neither of them is acting any differently, then…I guess it’s fine.
He still felt a pang of frustration at his own carelessness, but he knew that there were more pressing matters at hand. The mission, the Technomancer League, the threats they still faced—those were the things that needed his focus.
After breakfast, the group began to prepare for the day’s journey. The campsite was dismantled efficiently, Lira directing the Worker Ants that erged from their underground tunnels to pack up the supplies. Vyrelda and Cerys moved with precision, their gear already stowed, their weapons at the ready. Mikhailis watched them, his thoughts drifting back to last night for a brief mont before he shook his head.
"Rodion," he murmured, adjusting his cloak as he stepped away from the tent.
Any updates on the Chira Ants’ pursuit from last night?
Mikhailis nodded, his expression shifting, his focus sharpening. Good.
"Keep them under observation for now," Mikhailis replied.
"We still need to know what they’re planning."
Mikhailis took a deep breath, the crisp forest air filling his lungs. The events of last night lingered at the back of his mind, but as he looked at his companions, the seriousness of their mission ca rushing back to him. He had a responsibility—to the people of Verdant Canopy, to Queen Elowen, to those who trusted him. Whatever mysteries surrounded last night could wait.
He turned back to his companions, his eyes eting Lira’s. She gave him a small nod, her expression calm and composed, and Mikhailis felt a sense of reassurance. They were ready for whatever ca next.
"Alright," he said, his voice carrying a note of authority, "let’s get moving. We’ve got a long way to go."
The group nodded, gathering their belongings as they prepared to head out, the forest stretching before them, filled with unknown dangers and possibilities. Mikhailis pushed aside the lingering questions in his mind, focusing on the task at hand—for now, that was all that mattered.
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