CHAPTER 65: THE MAID WHO NEVER DENIED

Chapter 64: The Maid Who Never Denied

"Y-you are so unfair..." Lirael muttered, her voice trembling, cheeks flaming crimson. "How could you say such things... so suddenly?"

Her words faltered, and she bit her lip, the warmth in her face deepening, betraying her flustered heart.

Ethan’s eyes sparkled with mischief as his approach took a 180° turn, as he stepped closer. "But... in the meantime," he added, his tone teasing, "you can’t deny me my body pillow, right?"

Lirael froze, lost in her swirling thoughts. His words registered late, and before she could respond, she felt herself lifted off her feet. "W-wait!" she squeaked, but it was too late. Ethan had scooped her up in a princess carry, effortlessly depositing her on the bed. Her hair fanned out around her like liquid sapphire, her body momentarily weightless in his arms, heartbeat hammering in her chest.

"Now..." Ethan leaned closer, eyes glinting with playful purpose. "These earrings... beautiful as they are, will hinder my sleep."

He deftly removed them one by one. The earrings glinted faintly in the soft room light. Magical as they were, they never pierced the ears; instead, a perfect hole formed automatically as they were worn or removed, ensuring no pain, only grace. Lirael wriggled slightly, protesting in a flustered whisper, "It...it was for just for one night! You don’t have to—"

But he was already done, sitting on the bed with a mischievous grin playing across his lips.

"You should know..." he murmured, voice low and teasing. "I never forced you to wear this dress. You never denied it... you just let everything happen naturally."

Her heart stuttered. Those words struck like lightning. She had indeed never refused—it had all seemed to unfold as if by fate. She was thinking, lost in a whirl of existential panic, when suddenly, Ethan grabbed her again.

"Ahhh!" she yelped, but she never resisted. He pulled her under the blanket, and she allowed herself to sink into his arms. Her body molded to his without hesitation, head resting just below his chin, and the warmth of him pressed through the soft layers of fabric and sheets.

Ethan lowered himself gently, brushing a tender kiss against the crown of her hair. "Take your time," he murmured, voice velvety, "thinking if you want to be with me or not... while you stay like this. Ah... the clothes on you... feel perfect. I knew silk had to be the best choice."

Lirael’s mind spun. Amid the swirl of her thoughts, she caught the faint compliment about the dress and blurted out, flaring slightly, "Y-you... you bought this expensive dress... just so you could use me as a soft body pillow? Since when have you been planning this... you bastard?!"

Ethan tightened his arms around her, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Ah... you can never deny my tactics, can you?"

Her blush deepened, voice quiet but fierce. "Did... did you put me under some spell? I... I was never like this before... yeah, all this... it happened after I met you!"

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, tightening his grip in silent reassurance.

"Argh... you insufferable bastard," she huffed, flaring just slightly. "Fine... I’ll allow it... but you need to tell me about that wife first before I decide anything!"

With a soft huff, she shifted, rolling her hand around his neck and resting her head lightly against his biceps. The blankets rustled as she adjusted herself, pressing closer against him in a position that was both bold and unconscious.

Inside, a part of her sighed in quiet satisfaction. Memories of her best sleep in Amelias’ house surfaced—this closeness, warmth, and safety weren’t unwelcome. And as for being with him... a small, embarrassed part of her already knew the answer. She let a tiny smile tug at her lips, feeling the familiar comfort of his body against hers.

---

"So? Will you say it now?" Lirael asked softly, her voice muffled slightly against his chest.

"About my wife from my previous world?" Ethan’s tone was calm, without hesitation. "Sure... if you want to know."

Her fingers curled slightly against his shirt, her long lashes lowering as she gave the smallest of nods.

Ethan exhaled slowly, his gaze lifting to the ceiling as if searching for the right place to begin. "My world... it wasn’t magical like this one. No mana, no spells—just machines, science, and technology. I was the head of a company called Orion Dynamics... a place that manufactured advanced machines, weapons, systems—things that could change the balance of power between nations. And I was its CEO, the man at the top of it all."

Lirael’s ocean-blue eyes flickered, listening with rapt attention, almost as if trying to piece together the fragments of a world so alien to her own. She didn’t move, didn’t interrupt—just absorbed every word.

"As for my wife..." Ethan’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Calling her that almost feels wrong now. It wasn’t love—it was business. A marriage between families for convenience, for power. She lived her life, I lived mine. I... slept with other women. She didn’t care, because she was doing the same with other men. That was our... arrangement."

His gaze dropped back to Lirael, watching for her reaction.

Her expression faltered for a brief moment—her lips parting, a flicker of sadness passing through her eyes. But she quickly forced a faint, wavering smile. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "I-I see... As long as... you like me for more than just my body... then... then I’m fine... with being with you."

Her words came out nervous, fragile, but her sincerity rang clear. Her cheeks glowed pink as if the confession burned her from within.

Ethan’s chest tightened at her vulnerability. He reached up, brushing his fingers gently against a lock of her azure hair. "I do, Lirael. Don’t ever doubt that."

She swallowed hard, her eyes softening as he continued.

He told her about the rest of his story—the endless grind of corporate wars, the betrayals he had learned to expect, and finally, his cousin. "He tried to kill me," Ethan said bluntly. "Threw me off a cliff. Thought that would be the end of me. Instead, it sent me here."

Lirael’s brows furrowed, her lips parting in quiet dismay. For a man so wealthy, so powerful in his old world, the story painted a picture not of privilege, but of loneliness. "That’s... such a sad life," she whispered, her voice heavy with compassion. "Do you... hate your cousin?"

Ethan smirked faintly, his eyes dark but steady. "No. I don’t give a shit about him. Honestly... I knew one day someone would try. That’s the way my world worked. If anything..." He glanced at her, his expression softening, voice dropping to something almost tender. "...I’m thankful. Because of him, I got to meet you."

Her face flushed scarlet, her heart thundering in her chest. She buried her face against him to hide the heat in her cheeks, but her lips curved faintly despite herself.

The room grew quiet again, save for the rhythm of their breathing and the faint rustle of sheets. Time slipped away unnoticed as they lay in each other’s arms, words dwindling into silence. Slowly, with her warmth pressed against his side and his steady presence wrapping around her, Lirael drifted into sleep. Ethan followed soon after, the faintest smile lingering at the edge of his lips.

---

The morning sunlight crept gently through the curtains, spilling golden warmth into the quiet room. The world outside had begun to stir, but within the bed, time seemed to move differently—soft, unhurried, and tender.

Ethan stirred faintly, awareness returning to him, only to find warmth wrapped around him from every side. Lirael had shifted in the night, her slender form entwined with his as though afraid to let go. One arm draped firmly over his chest, the other slipped beneath his shoulder, anchoring herself against him. Her legs were tucked tightly against his, molding into his side with instinctive closeness.

Her face rested at the level of his, so near that her soft breaths brushed against his skin, warm and featherlight. Every exhale tickled his lips and cheek, mingling with his own in an unspoken rhythm. The subtle fragrance of her hair—fresh, clean, faintly floral—rose with the heat of her body, and her long, azure strands cascaded over his shoulder, spilling like silk across the sheets.

Ethan’s eyes softened as he gazed at her. Her features were peaceful, stripped of tension, lips parted slightly in sleep. The faintest blush lingered on her cheeks from the warmth of their closeness. For the first time in a long while, he felt utterly... still. No battle, no schemes, no obligations—just her, pressed against him as if he were her anchor in the drifting tides of dreams.

Their faces were so close that the slightest movement could close the gap. His breath fanned across her lips; hers ghosted along his cheek, a teasing intimacy that pulled at his composure. Yet neither stirred apart. Instead, they seemed perfectly content in that fragile closeness, bodies and hearts synchronizing without effort.

Ethan allowed himself a faint smile, his chest tightening in a way that was both comforting and overwhelming. He hadn’t realized how much he had longed for this—for someone who clung to him not because of duty or power, but because she wanted to. And Lirael, with all her stubbornness and fire, held onto him now like he was the only safe place she knew.

He adjusted slightly, careful not to wake her, and pressed his chin gently against the crown of her head. The motion caused her to tighten her hold instinctively, curling closer, her breathing hitching for just a second before resuming its steady rhythm.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only the warmth of her skin, the tickle of her breath, the faint pulse of her heartbeat where her chest pressed against his. And Ethan knew—without a doubt—that he wouldn’t trade this morning for anything.

Just then Lirael Stirred...