The back stairwell spat us onto the roof like a secret.
Cool night air hit my face. The city's lanterns floated below like a sea of warm dots. Up here, everything felt quieter, like Lustra couldn't reach this high without climbing first.
Vesper moved like she owned gravity. One hand on the railing, the other holding mine, her heart-key charm glinting every time she turned her hip.
"Rule one," she whispered. "No looking down if you value your dignity."
"I value my life," I whispered back.
"Same," she said. "Dignity is optional."
We crossed the first rooftop, then hopped a narrow gap onto the next building. It wasn't huge, but it was enough to make my heart try to file a complaint.
Vesper tugged my hand gently.
"May I pull you," she asked, still playing by the rules even while committing rooftop crime.
"Yes," I said.
She pulled me across like it was nothing.
I landed, wobbled, and tried to act like I hadn't just met death and lost.
Vesper grinned. "Hero."
"Shut up," I muttered.
"Make me," she whispered automatically, then froze, eyes widening.
We both stared at each other.
Then Vesper slapped a hand over her mouth like she'd accidentally sworn in church.
"I didn't mean that," she hissed.
I tried not to smile and failed. "Sure."
Vesper's cheeks warmed. "Stop looking pleased."
Below us, the street was quieter. Silence Tea's door was still open, Elise still standing there like a living warning sign. The harem crowd had scattered… mostly.
Mostly.
Because a silhouette moved at the corner, careful and stiff, like someone trying very hard to pretend they weren't following.
Valeria.
Even from up here I could feel her stubbornness like heat.
Vesper noticed my gaze and followed it.
"Oho," Vesper whispered. "She's stalking."
"She's not," I whispered automatically, because I was still scared of her pride.
Vesper's grin turned wicked. "She's absolutely stalking."
Valeria stepped out of the shadow, looked up for half a second like she'd sensed our movement, then immediately looked away like roofs were none of her business.
Then she walked faster, as if speed could erase intent.
Vesper leaned close to my ear, voice gleeful. "I love her. She's like a knight who got cursed with feelings and refuses the antidote."
"She's going to kill you," I whispered.
Vesper shrugged. "Worth it."
We moved again, rooftop to rooftop, following a line of old chimneys and low walls. The city below got dimmer, the lanterns fewer, the air cooler. This wasn't the tourist roof route. This was the roof route where people hid when they didn't want to be found.
Vesper stopped at a metal hatch embedded in a rooftop slab. She pulled out the heart-key charm and slipped it into a tiny keyhole.
Click.
The hatch opened with a soft sigh.
A ladder descended into darkness.
I stared. "Is this where the dungeon lives again."
Vesper shook her head. "No. This is the opposite. This is the maintenance spine. Nobody comes here because there's no romance lighting."
The hatch creaked. A faint breeze rose from below. Smelled like dust and old stone.
Then, because Lustra was allergic to peace, a little plaque on the hatch lit up.
MAINTENANCE PASSAGE
NO FLIRTING
NO KISSING
NO DRAMATIC CONFESSIONS
VIOLATORS WILL BE SPRAYED WITH FOUNTAIN WATER
I blinked. "It has rules."
Vesper's face went blank with betrayal. "Even the plumbing has opinions."
I lifted my Consent Candle slightly. It glowed like it was ready to testify.
Vesper cleared her throat, suddenly very proper.
"Ren," she said, "may we use the ladder."
I nodded. "Yes. May we not get sprayed."
Vesper nodded solemnly. "Agreed."
We climbed down, one rung at a time. I went first, because Vesper claimed she was the guide but also claimed she hated being responsible.
The passage below was narrow and old, stone-lined, with pipes running along the ceiling like veins. Dim lanterns flickered, but not pink. Not romantic. Just… functional.
For thirty seconds, it was quiet.
Then a voice echoed behind us from the hatch above.
"Ahem."
Elise.
I froze.
Vesper froze.
Elise's silhouette appeared at the opening, backlit by roof-light, expression unreadable in the shadows.
"Door open," Elise said calmly.
Vesper lifted both hands automatically even though she was already on a ladder. "Yes. Door open. We are not doing anything. We are escaping. Escaping only."
Elise's voice didn't change. "Good."
I exhaled.
Then another silhouette appeared behind Elise at the hatch, like a second shadow refusing to admit it was there.
Valeria.
She looked down into the passage, eyes narrow, face red, jaw clenched.
Then she snapped, "I'm not following."
Vesper whispered loudly, "She followed."
Valeria's glare shot down like a thrown knife. "Quiet."
Elise sighed. "Valeria. Why are you here."
Valeria stiffened. "Security."
Elise said flatly, "Security of what."
Valeria snapped, "Of him."
The passage went silent.
Valeria's face turned even redder.
She tried to recover, furious. "Because he's a hero. And heroes get ambushed."
Vesper leaned in toward me and whispered, delighted, "She said it."
I whispered back, "She's going to duel the concept of embarrassment."
Valeria descended the ladder stiffly, like every rung was a personal insult. She landed in the passage, arms crossed immediately, eyes refusing to meet mine.
Elise climbed down too, staying close enough to intervene, far enough to not ruin the point of the escape date.
The hatch above stayed open. Door open, technically. Roof open, definitely.
Vesper took my hand again, careful.
"May I," she asked softly, because she was still trying to be respectful even while enjoying the chaos.
"Yes," I said.
Valeria's eyes flicked to our hands and she made a small sound like she swallowed a curse.
"I don't care," Valeria muttered.
Vesper smiled sweetly. "Sure."
We walked.
The maintenance passage led us into an old stairwell that spiraled up and then down, like the building couldn't decide if it wanted to be underground or in the sky. At one landing, a narrow window showed the city lights, and for a moment it felt like we were outside time, just moving through the bones of Lustra.
Valeria followed one step behind me.
Elise followed one step behind Valeria.
It felt like a very odd parade.
Vesper broke the silence first.
"So," she said casually, "Dame Valeria. Do you like rooftops."
Valeria snapped, "No."
Vesper nodded. "Do you like following heroes on rooftops."
Valeria's face went red. "No."
Vesper continued, innocent. "Do you like holding heroes' hands."
Valeria stopped walking.
I stopped too, surprised.
Elise stopped, eyes narrowing like she was about to issue a warning.
Vesper stopped and looked back, grin bright with impending death.
Valeria stared at Vesper with pure murder.
Then Valeria's gaze flicked to me and away again so fast it was almost painful.
"I don't," Valeria hissed. "I just… dislike rumors."
Vesper tilted her head. "Rumors about what."
Valeria's jaw clenched. "About him being treated like… a thing."
That was the first time Valeria had said something that didn't sound like pride wearing armor.
Elise's expression softened slightly.
Vesper's grin faded just a little into something gentler.
I swallowed.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
Valeria flinched like the word thanks was a weapon.
"Don't," she snapped.
"Why," I asked softly.
Valeria stared at the wall. "Because it… makes it worse."
"Worse how," Vesper whispered, unable to help herself.
Valeria's cheeks flared.
She didn't answer.
But her fingers twitched at her side like she wanted to grab something and didn't know what was allowed.
So I did the safest thing I could think of.
I offered.
I held my hand out, palm up, in front of Valeria.
No pressure. No trap. Just a choice.
"Valeria," I said, voice quiet, "may I hold your hand. Just for the stairs. So you stop looking like you're about to punch the air."
Valeria froze.
Elise's eyes widened a fraction.
Vesper's mouth fell open like she'd just watched a rare animal step into sunlight.
Valeria's pride battled her face for a full five seconds.
Then she snapped, "This is stupid."
I nodded. "Yes."
Valeria took my hand anyway.
Her grip was firm, almost too firm, like she was holding on to a rule she didn't understand.
Her cheeks stayed red. Her eyes stayed forward.
But she didn't let go.
Vesper covered her mouth with both hands, vibrating with joy, and whispered through her fingers, "Oh my god."
Valeria hissed, "Don't speak."
Vesper nodded aggressively, eyes shining.
We walked down the stairs together, my hand in Valeria's, Vesper's other hand still holding my wrist lightly like she didn't want to lose the escape date completely, and Elise trailing behind like a tired guardian angel who had accepted that Lustra was beyond saving.
Then the passage opened into a small rooftop garden.
Not the main square garden. A hidden one. Old stone benches. A single tree with pale leaves. A little fountain that, miraculously, was not shaped like a heart.
The air was cooler here. The city noise distant.
It felt like an actual escape.
Vesper let out a breath like she'd been holding it for days.
"We did it," she whispered. "We found a place that doesn't chant."
The fountain immediately lit up with a tiny sign.
NO CHANTING
Vesper glared at the sign. "Stop being right."
We sat on the stone bench, and for a moment nobody talked.
Valeria sat stiffly at the far end like she'd been forced to attend a picnic.
Vesper sat on the other side, posture looser, grin quieter.
Elise stood by the open doorway, arms crossed, watching the path, still honoring door open and the boundary rules.
I stared up at the lantern-lit sky and breathed.
And in that quiet, I felt something strange.
Not hunger from the harem. Not pressure from the tournament.
Just… being.
Vesper nudged my shoulder lightly with her elbow and asked properly, because she was learning.
"Ren," she whispered, "may I tell you something without making it deep."
I smiled faintly. "Yes."
Vesper looked up at the sky and said, very simply, "You looked happier when you told them to leave the tea shop."
My chest warmed.
I nodded. "I felt stronger."
Vesper smiled. "Good. Do that more."
Valeria muttered, almost inaudible, "He should."
Vesper turned slowly toward Valeria like a predator smelling blood.
"Oh," Vesper whispered. "She agrees."
Valeria snapped instantly, "I didn't say anything."
"You did," I said softly, not teasing, just honest.
Valeria froze.
Her cheeks went red again.
Then she looked away and muttered, like she was throwing the words off a cliff so they couldn't be traced.
"…He deserves peace."
The garden went quiet again.
Even Vesper didn't joke for a second.
Elise's gaze softened.
My throat tightened.
I didn't know what to say, so I said the simplest thing.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I do."
Vesper exhaled slowly, then ruined it on purpose because she couldn't live in sincerity too long.
"Okay," she whispered brightly, "new plan. We hide here forever. The harem can fight the tournament without you. Yuki can marry her clipboard. The dungeon can rate someone else's mouth."
Valeria's head snapped toward Vesper. "Stop talking about his mouth."
Vesper blinked, delighted. "Why."
Valeria went red and shouted, "BECAUSE."
I buried my face in my hand and laughed quietly, because it was ridiculous and warm and human.
And for the first time, the escape date actually felt like what it was supposed to be.
Not romance as a prize.
Not kissing as a score.
Just a bench, a quiet roof, a thief who knew hidden doors, a knight who pretended not to care, and a paladin guarding the boundary like it mattered.
Because it did.