Chapter 231: Leaving The Eastmost Village
Mikhailis blinked awake, the room bathed in the soft orange hues of dawn filtering through the cracked wooden shutters. The weight on his chest brought an amused smile to his lips. Cerys was still asleep, her fiery red hair splayed out like a silken curtain against his bare skin. Her breathing was steady, her face peaceful in slumber, a stark contrast to her usual stoic demeanor.
He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her cheek. The slight motion made her stir, her brow furrowing slightly before her green eyes fluttered open. She blinked a few times, her sleepy gaze meeting his. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet intimacy of the morning wrapping around them like a cocoon.
"You're staring," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
"Of course I am," he replied with a grin.
"It's not every day I wake up with the Lone Wolf using me as a mattress."
Cerys' lips twitched in a faint smile.
"You're lucky I didn't push you off the bed. You're heavier than you look."
"It's all muscle," he said, flexing his arm playfully.
"You're the one who decided to drape yourself all over me. Not that I'm complaining."
She rolled her eyes but didn't move away, instead resting her chin on his chest.
"Don't get used to it, Your Highness."
Too late for that, he thought, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her back.
"So, did I win you over last night, or are you still pretending I'm insufferable?"
Her cheeks turned faintly pink, and she shoved his shoulder lightly.
"Insufferable doesn't even begin to cover it."
The knock at the door shattered their moment. Cerys sat upright so quickly she nearly headbutted him.
"Come in," Mikhailis called lazily, stretching his arms behind his head.
The door creaked open, and an inn worker stepped inside, balancing a tray laden with food. The young woman's eyes widened at the sight of Cerys, her arms still loosely draped around Mikhailis' bare chest. A blush crept up her neck, her lips twitching with a barely contained smile.
"I brought your breakfast," she stammered, setting the tray on the table. Her gaze darted back to the pair, lingering a moment too long.
Realizing the situation, Cerys scrambled to grab the blanket, pulling it up to her chin. Her face burned crimson as she glared daggers at Mikhailis, who looked far too amused by the scene.
The worker, emboldened by their flustered reactions, added with a teasing tone, "It must have been quite the night, huh?"
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Before either of them could respond, her eyes dropped slightly, and she froze. Her gaze fixed on the blanket near Mikhailis' hips, where something rather... noticeable made its presence known.
Her hands flew to her mouth, and she gasped, "S-So huge!?"
Mikhailis bit back a laugh, but Cerys' glare turned murderous. She cleared her throat loudly, and the worker, realizing what she'd done, practically bolted for the door.
"Enjoy your meal!" she squeaked before disappearing.
The door clicked shut, and silence filled the room. Then, slowly, Cerys turned to Mikhailis, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits.
"Did you do that on purpose?"
"Me?" he said, raising his hands in mock innocence.
"I can't control what happens when I wake up. It's a biological thing."
She pinched his side—hard.
"Biological thing, huh? Stop flexing it! Or I'll cut it!"
"Ow! Okay, okay, truce!" he yelped, laughing as he grabbed her hand to stop her assault.
"I surrender."
Her glare softened into exasperation, and she let out a huff.
"You pervert."
They turned their attention to the breakfast tray, the aroma of freshly baked bread and smoked ham filling the air. The meal was simple but hearty: crusty bread, thick slices of ham, a wedge of soft cheese, and a carafe of wine.
Mikhailis tore off a piece of bread and offered it to her.
"Here, eat up. You'll need your strength."
Cerys took it with a small smile.
"I didn't think royalty should have such practical tastes."
"Oh, I'm full of surprises," he said, pouring two cups of wine. He handed one to her but didn't let go when she reached for it.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
Instead of answering, he brought the cup to his lips, took a sip, and then leaned closer. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted her chin up with his free hand. Before she could protest, his lips met hers, the rich taste of wine flowing between them. She froze for a moment, then softened, her lips parting to accept the drink fully. Their tongues brushed, tentative at first, then lingering as the shared warmth of the wine mixed with their saliva, creating an intoxicating blend of flavor and sensation. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, the lingering sweetness of the wine adding a layer of intimacy to the moment. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as their tongues danced, savoring the mingling of their breath and taste. When he finally pulled back, the faint sheen of wine on their lips glistened in the morning light. A smirk played on his lips, the heat of the moment leaving both of them slightly breathless.
When he pulled back, a smirk played on his lips.
"Thirst quenched?"
Cerys glared at him, her cheeks flaming.
"You're so mean."
"But you adore me, right?" he teased, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at her lips.
"I think I'm starting to regret it."
"Oh I believe you don't, my dear lone wolf," Mikhailis teases as he took sip of the wine.
After breakfast, Mikhailis stretched lazily and glanced at the door.
"I should clean up before we head out."
Another knock came, and the same worker entered with a small barrel of water and a towel. This time, she kept her gaze firmly averted as she placed the items near the bed and left without a word.
Mikhailis turned to Cerys with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Care to join me?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"To clean up?"
"Why not? We'll save time," he said with a wink.
She sighed but followed him to the barrel, her steps slow and hesitant. They took turns dipping the towel into the cool water, the sensation refreshing against their skin as they worked to wipe away the remnants of the night. Mikhailis' touch was deliberate and gentle, his hands gliding across her back and shoulders with a care that contrasted sharply with his usual teasing demeanor. Yet, he couldn't help himself. Every so often, he'd flick a few droplets of water at her, grinning when she flinched and shot him a mock glare.
"Stop it," she muttered, dipping her towel into the barrel again.
"I can't help it," he said with a playful shrug. "You're too easy to tease."
She huffed but didn't pull away when his hand lingered, his fingers trailing along her arm before he turned back to his own washing. When it was her turn to clean his face, she gripped his chin firmly, tilting his head to the side to get a better angle.
"Hold still," she ordered, her voice softened by the proximity. Her face was inches from his, her breath warm against his cheek. He obeyed, his mischievous grin fading into something quieter as her hand moved over his skin. The cool towel brushed against his jaw, her touch precise yet unhurried.
His gaze flicked to her eyes, catching the flecks of green that glimmered in the morning light.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and sincere.
Her hand froze, the towel still against his cheek. She blinked up at him, startled by the unexpected comment. For a moment, she seemed unsure of how to respond, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. Then, with a sigh that sounded more resigned than annoyed, she set the towel aside and met his gaze.
"Don't start," she said softly, though her tone lacked the usual bite.
"I'm not starting anything," he replied, leaning in slightly.
"Just stating facts."
Before she could retort, his lips brushed against her temple, light as a whisper. Her breath hitched, and the space between them seemed to shrink. Tentatively, her hands rested on his shoulders, and as he tilted his head, their lips met in a slow, tender kiss. The world outside the room seemed to fall away, the cool dampness of the towel forgotten as she leaned into him.
His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. It wasn't hurried or demanding, but deliberate, a melding of warmth and trust that left them both slightly breathless. When they finally pulled apart, her forehead rested against his, her lips still tingling from the contact.
"We're going to be late because of you," she said, her voice a little shaky but tinged with exasperation.
"Worth it," he said simply, his grin breaking through again.
She rolled her eyes, stepping back to pick up the towel.
"Finish cleaning up. And no more distractions."
"No promises," he teased, but his tone was soft, almost reverent, as he watched her return to the barrel.
Once they finished packing their belongings, Mikhailis took one last look around the room to ensure nothing was left behind. Cerys adjusted the strap on her bag, her movements quick and efficient as she double-checked their provisions. Together, they hoisted their belongings onto their shoulders and headed downstairs.
The soft murmur of voices greeted them as they descended the creaky staircase. At the bottom, they found the villagers gathered, their faces alight with gratitude and admiration. The small crowd parted slightly to make way as Mikhailis and Cerys entered the room, their presence commanding immediate attention.
"Ah, you're finally here!" the village chief said, his weathered face breaking into a warm smile. "We've prepared some provisions for your journey."
Outside, a horse stood saddled and ready, its sides burdened with bags of dried fruits, smoked meats, and jars of honey. The villagers bustled around, carefully loading the supplies onto the animal. A group of children peeked out from behind their parents, their wide eyes full of wonder as they whispered among themselves.
"Safe travels, heroes," the chief continued, bowing deeply. "You have our eternal gratitude. Should you ever need a place to rest, our doors will always be open."
Cerys nodded respectfully, her stoic expression softening ever so slightly.
"Thank you. Your kindness won't be forgotten."
Mikhailis, ever the charmer, gave the crowd a roguish grin.
"We'll make sure to stop by again when we're in the area. And don't worry—we'll keep the road safer for you."
The villagers laughed and cheered, their spirits lifted. As Mikhailis and Cerys mounted the horse, the crowd stepped back to give them room. Hands waved, and voices called out well-wishes as they set off eastward. The rhythmic clop of the horse's hooves soon drowned out the sound of the villagers, though their warm send-off lingered in the air like an invisible balm.
"Safe travels, heroes," the village chief said, bowing deeply.
"If you ever need a place to rest, our doors are always open."
He nodded subtly, guiding the horse accordingly.
"I guess it's time to continue our journey,"