When he reached the balcony, his sharp eyes immediately caught a silhouette curled up in the dark corner, relieved that the scene that just played out was all in his head as a result of worry. The fact that she had chosen the balcony didn't bother him—Ryu could see perfectly well in the dark, thanks to the faint glow of his fire-wielding gift.
"Arya?!" he whispered urgently, striding over and crouching to her level. Relief washed through him the moment he spotted the plate of half-eaten buns beside her—at least she hadn't wandered off.
She lifted her head slowly, and Ryu lit a small flame in his palm, bathing her delicate face in warm light.
"Ryu…?" she murmured, her voice weak, her cheeks flushed in a way that made her look impossibly cute.
He exhaled in relief. "Come on, let's go h—"
His words were abruptly cut short by her lips pressing against his.
The sudden kiss sent a shock racing through him. For one fleeting moment, he wanted her to continue. But reason clawed its way back, drowning out the fire of temptation. He gently but firmly broke the kiss, lifting her onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"R-Ryu… I-I… I feel so weird," Arya whispered, her voice shaky and sweet, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.
So this is the urge, Ryu thought grimly, his jaw tightening. But how in the world could a pineapple turn into an aphrodisiac?
Ignoring the curious stares of passersby, he hurried to his car and carefully lowered her into the backseat. But Arya wasn't letting him go—her small hands clung stubbornly to his regal coat, pulling him closer.
"Arya…" he muttered under his breath, fighting for composure.
He had just decided to call for his most trusted guard when Arya's voice reached him again—soft, sultry, dangerous.
"Ryu… I feel so hot."
Her half-lidded eyes locked onto his, and she guided his hand to her flushed cheek. The contact made his heart hammer violently in his chest, but with a strained effort, he withdrew, stumbling out of the car. He pressed his back against the door, shutting his eyes tightly.
"Damn it, Arya… I'm not a robot."
Moments later, a voice called out. "Your Majesty—!"
Felix came running, bowing breathlessly. His messy blue hair stuck to his forehead, his sharp eyes clouded with worry.
"Felix," Ryu ordered, steadying his voice, "drive us to my quarters. And when you return, inform my father that something serious has come up."
"Yes, Your Majesty…" Felix obeyed, climbing into the driver's seat.
But when Ryu slid back into the car, his breath caught. Arya was no longer in her dress. The fabric lay discarded on the floor, leaving her in nothing but a lacy bra and panties.
"Ryu… where did you go?" she asked, sitting up, her voice thick with longing. Her tongue darted across her lips, making his pulse skip.
Ryu shifted to the farthest edge of the seat, gulping hard.
Felix's eyes flickered in the rearview mirror for the briefest moment before he turned away, his silence heavy with unasked questions.
"Just put up the partition," Ryu ordered tightly, his voice low.
Felix complied. A dark screen rose between them, and the car rolled forward.
But Arya wasn't done. She crawled onto his lap, straddling him, her lips grazing his neck. Her warm breath sent shivers down his spine. He sat frozen, his fists clenched against the seat, fighting the rising storm inside him.
"Ar-aren't we there yet?" he muttered under his breath, though Felix couldn't hear him.
Arya cupped his face, whispering something he couldn't catch, then kissed him deeply. His eyes squeezed shut—and when he opened them again, she had slumped against him, asleep.
Relief swept over him like a crashing wave. Carefully, he eased her off, holding her steady until the car stopped.
When Felix opened the door, he silently handed Ryu a folded coat, his expression unreadable.
"…Thanks," Ryu muttered, embarrassed. He draped the coat over Arya's bare shoulders and carried her inside.
"Your Majesty, do you need anyth—"
"No, Felix. Go home. Deliver my message to my father. Bring back my car tomorrow."
Felix bowed deeply and left.
Ryu laid Arya gently on the bed, covering her with a blanket. Just as he turned to leave, her small hand grabbed his sleeve.
"Please… don't leave me all alone," she whispered, her voice soft and fragile.
Ryu froze. His chest tightened at her plea, but what came next pierced him like a blade.
"…Please, Elijah."
His expression hardened. He scoffed bitterly, pried her fingers off his sleeve, and turned away.
"Unbelievable," he muttered coldly before striding out, slamming the door shut behind him.
But even as he walked away, the fire in his chest wasn't from anger alone—it was something far more dangerous.