Kael awoke slowly—as if the world itself hesitated to tear him from the brief paradise he was in. The soft morning light filtered through the enchanted curtains of Sylphie's room, tinging the space with shades of lilac and gold. The air still carried the sweet scent of the flowers she wore in her hair, mingled with the warm aroma of the natural mana that always flowed around her.

For a moment, he didn't want to open his eyes. He felt his body heavy, exhausted. A weariness that wasn't just physical—it was something deeper, something that came from within, from the soul.

Even so, a small smile escaped him when he felt her touch.

Sylphie hugged him tightly, her face hidden against his chest, as if she feared he would disappear if he opened his eyes.

Her breathing was calm, her body warm and delicate. Kael could hear the steady rhythm of her heart, so close to his.

"You don't want to let me go, do you?" he murmured, in a low tone, almost a whisper. She didn't answer—she just hugged him tighter, her fingers closing in on the crumpled fabric of the sheet.

Kael sighed, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him. Everything seemed too calm, too silent. That kind of silence that precedes goodbye.

Carefully, he raised his hand and ran his fingers through her white hair, brushing away a strand that covered her face. For a moment, he just looked—memorizing every feature, every soft curve of her expression.

"You deserve a better world than this," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

He leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Sylphie moved slightly, perhaps dreaming, perhaps feeling the touch. Kael let out a final sigh and, calmly, began to release her arms from his body.

Each movement seemed to weigh tons.

But he succeeded.

He stood up, feeling his body protest—his muscles tense, his mana depleted, his mind clouded.

His clothes were scattered on the floor, silent witnesses to what had happened hours before. He dressed silently, pulling at the belt of his cloak with an automatic gesture. When he finished, he paused for a moment and looked back.

She was still asleep. So calm, so light… so distant, and yet, a part of him.

Kael stood there for another moment, just watching. He wanted to say something—anything. A last sentence, a promise. But the words wouldn't come.

Then he turned and left.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

The corridor of the royal witches' castle was silent, bathed in the soft morning light. Crystals floated along the walls, emitting a faint greenish glow, and the distant sound of footsteps echoed from time to time—witches beginning their day, preparing for work and daily tasks.

Kael walked slowly, his hands in his pockets, his gaze distant.

Each step seemed to take him further away from her, further away from something he wanted to keep forever. But time didn't stop. It never stopped.

He passed one of the inner balconies and looked out—the Witch Kingdom stretched out below him, covered by a blanket of morning mist. Towers of living stone, suspended forests, magical birds cutting through the air in gentle circles. Everything seemed so peaceful, almost unreal.

For a moment, he wondered if that place truly deserved to be protected by someone like him—someone who carried so much power and, at the same time, so many doubts.

But then he remembered Sylphie's face, her touch, and the silent promise they made the night before.

He took a deep breath.

"I will protect you," he murmured, the words lost in the cold breeze.

He kept walking.

As he turned the corner of the main corridor, he encountered several younger witches who, upon seeing him, immediately bowed in respect.

"Good morning, Prince Kael."

He responded with a slight, unsteady nod. He never got used to that title.

He crossed the central hall—a vast space of black marble and floating golden runes. Small trees grew in the middle of the floor, and rivers of liquid mana flowed between the steps. The heart of the castle, alive and pulsating.

The aroma of fresh food began to fill the air as he approached the breakfast hall. The smell of freshly picked bread, fruit, and magical herbs was almost comforting.

Upon entering, he was greeted by the murmur of the witches already gathered—lively conversations, laughter, the clinking of cups. But when they noticed his presence, the atmosphere fell silent for a brief moment.

All eyes turned to him—some curious, others respectful.

Kael simply nodded and walked over to one of the tables at the back, where he usually sat.

He sat down in silence.

The witch in charge of the hall came to him, looking a little nervous. "Good morning, Your Highness. Would you like your usual?"

"Yes, thank you," he replied, his voice calm, yet distant.

While he waited, he let his gaze wander around the hall.

The witches were talking again, the sound filling the space once more. He, however, was elsewhere. He could still feel Sylphie's touch on his skin, the warmth of her body, the sound of her breathing as she slept.

A sensation tightened within him—a knot of contradictory emotions.

He knew she would leave soon. That Ygg would come for her. That he would have to let her go.

But, for now… he allowed himself this small moment of peace.

The tray arrived. Hot tea, candied fruit, and mana breads. Simple things, but full of life.

Kael picked up the cup, watching the steam rise in gentle spirals.

"You deserve to rest a little," he murmured to himself, in an almost imperceptible tone.

Kael brought the cup to his lips and took a slow sip of the tea, letting the warmth spread through his throat and ease the weight on his mind—at least a little.

The hall was more crowded now. Witches of all kinds—young apprentices, veteran sorceresses, advisors—conversed amongst themselves, while the cooks' enchantments made plates and silverware float gently between the tables.

He kept his gaze lowered, absorbed.

The steam rose from the cup in lazy spirals, and Kael followed the movement as one observes time passing without haste.

But the tranquility was short-lived.

A sound of determined footsteps echoed on the marble, accompanied by a light click of heels. Kael didn't even need to raise his eyes—he would recognize that rhythm anywhere.

"You really have the nerve to show up here with that saintly face."

Amelia's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade—sweet and provocative, with that touch of irony she mastered so well.

Kael looked up and there they were.

Amelia, with her long blue hair tied back in a dark ribbon and her court uniform slightly disheveled (as always), and Irelia, impeccable beside her, her golden eyes half-closed and an air of someone holding back laughter.

"Good morning to you too," Kael replied, setting down his cup and crossing his arms. "Did you come to torment me so early?"

Amelia pulled up a chair without asking permission and sat down opposite him. Irelia did the same, though with more elegance.

"Torment?" Amelia raised an eyebrow, with a mischievous smile. "No. Let's call it… just retaliation for last night's collateral damage."

Kael blinked, confused for a second. "Collateral damage?"

Irelia, with a calm look and sweet voice, added: "Let's just say… the castle walls aren't as strong as you think."

Kael frowned, trying to understand, until Amelia took a theatrical sip of the tea the waiter had just brought her.

"Kael, darling," she began, resting her chin on her hand, "the next time you decide to have a… stormy night with someone—especially with Sylphie—use a damn magical isolation barrier."

Kael froze.

The tea almost slipped from his hand.

"You… heard?" she asked, in a tone that mixed disbelief and pure embarrassment.

Amelia let out a short, mischievous laugh. "Hear? Honey, half the floor must have woken up. I think even the sealing runes were blushing."

Irelia looked away, trying to suppress a laugh. "We tried to ignore it, we really tried. But when the windows started vibrating, I had to cast a seal of silence on the next room."

Kael ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily, the blush rising to his ears. "Great. That's exactly what I needed to start the day."

Amelia rested her elbow on the table and leaned forward, a playful glint in her eyes. "Look, nobody's judging you. Just… let us know next time. We could have, I don't know, gone to the forest."

"Or put on mana plugs," Irelia added, with an almost innocent little smile.

Kael closed his eyes and shook his head. "You two are impossible."

"And you're careless," Amelia retorted, without losing her provocative tone. "A mage of your level should know the basics: always isolate the environment before… experimenting with new forms of mana conjunction."

"Don't call it that," Kael murmured, embarrassed.

"What should I call it then?" she teased, resting her chin on her palm and smiling slightly. "Shared energy ritual?"

Irelia let out a low laugh, finally giving in. "Amelia, let him breathe. He's practically burying himself in embarrassment."

Kael sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You two have no mercy."

"Mercy is for those who don't make the walls tremble," Amelia replied with a wink.

For a moment, silence fell over the table—an amused silence, heavy with complicity. The three figures there were more than just companions in battles and missions; they were friends, bonds forged through blood, magic, and laughter like that.

Kael looked at the two of them, and despite his embarrassment, he ended up laughing. A low, sincere laugh that eased the weight on his shoulders a little.

"Okay, I get the message. Next time, isolation barrier. I promise."

"You really promise?" asked Amelia, raising an eyebrow.

"I promise."