It all started with a sock, not even his sock.
Rosette had given him a carefully pressed "laundry schedule," complete with high-level alerts for each girl's preferred fragrance-based proximity rating. (Yes, that's a thing now.)
And somehow, while fleeing from Drakana's latest "affection tackle," he'd slipped, fallen, and crashed through Lilia's half-open door… with the worst possible timing.
"Uh," Rei said from the floor, dusting himself off, "this isn't what it looks like."
Lilia stood frozen by her bed, a black lace nightgown fluttering slightly from the window breeze. Her violet eyes gleamed with a light I'd learned to recognize: part embarrassment, part wrath, part possessiveness, and part 'I've already prepared the wedding rings.'
"You stepped into my sanctuary," she said softly.
"I was framed," he muttered. "By a sock."
Lilia tilted her head. "Would you like to see something?"
That was the moment he should've run but he didn't because he was an idiot.
