A glossy purple-haired woman stood at the doorway, her slightly messy strands spilling down over her shoulders as if she hadn’t even bothered to comb them.
She wore a purple-colored nightgown that clung to her soft curves, her tired eyes heavy with the weight of a sleepless night. Yet despite the exhaustion on her face and the irritation in her expression, there was something undeniably sexy about her.
She leaned against the doorframe with a sigh, folding her arms beneath her boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly as she stared blankly at Aether.
“What are you doing here, Aether?” she asked, her voice low and laced with annoyance that seemed to grow sharper with each word.
Aether rose from behind the throne, brushing off his pants as if he’d been there casually. He shrugged his shoulders with a relaxed air, speaking with an amused tone.
“I was just checking out the throne… It’s kind of fascinating. Whoever built this thing had some serious skill,” he said, nodding in admiration at the craftsmanship before plopping down onto the throne with an exaggerated regal posture, letting one arm rest lazily over the armrest.
“So?” he added with a sly grin, “How do I look sitting here? Impressive, right?”
Sandra stared at him blankly, not even blinking. Her tone was flat as she muttered, “Not bad…” It sounded more like she was commenting on a chair than a man pretending to be king.
Aether’s lips twitched slightly before he let out a small chuckle, leaning further into the armrest with casual arrogance. “Looks like you slept well last night, huh?”
Sandra’s expression cracked.
Slept?
This motherfucker really had the nerve to say that? Because of him, she didn’t get a single wink. Ever since that sound echoed in her ears, her mind had been hijacked by fantasies—hot, lingering, torturous fantasies that wouldn’t let her rest.
And what? Men were the only ones allowed to have filthy thoughts?
Please. Women had fantasies too—sometimes even worse.
Her lips curled, twitching with restrained fury.
“Anyway… are you free now?” she asked, trying to force her tone into something casual, though her clenched jaw betrayed her frustration.
Aether nodded quickly, almost too eagerly. “Of course, of course… totally free. So, where are we headed now?” he asked with genuine curiosity, his eyes lighting up with interest.
“Follow me,” Sandra said curtly, turning on her heel and walking off without waiting.
Aether blinked, shrugged again, and followed her, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. He had an interested look on his face, and maybe a little too much pleasure at her expense.
During the walk, neither of them spoke much. Aether kept glancing sideways at her, grinning with a clearly amused expression that he made no effort to hide, while Sandra was grinding her teeth, the muscles in her jaw twitching every time she caught sight of that grin.
She wasn’t exactly sure why it pissed her off so much… but it did.
And he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t stop grinning at her face… but he kept doing it anyway.
Neither of them knew why.
Eventually, they arrived at their destination—The Royal Archive.
“Again?” Aether frowned, visibly disappointed. “Seriously? I thought we were going somewhere interesting. Maybe a hidden chamber… a forbidden vault… something juicy. Not back to this dusty old archive.”
Sandra snorted, shaking her head as she stepped inside. “What else did you expect? A treasure room with glowing orbs and naked women dancing around secret prophecies?”
Aether looked like he was actually considering that for a second.
“Would’ve been nice,” he muttered under his breath as he followed her in.
Sandra moved confidently between the towering bookshelves, her fingers brushing the old spines as she walked.
“You see… I found something curious,” she began. “Something about your bloodline. It’s not much—nothing super detailed—but there was a mention in one of these old texts. Just a passing line, really. Almost like the writer didn’t think it was important at all.”
Aether’s expression changed immediately. His posture straightened and his casual air disappeared as his interest sharpened.
“You found something about my bloodline?” he repeated, voice low and serious now.
Sandra nodded. “Yeah. Scattered pieces, not a full story. But your name… or someone like you, was mentioned here and there. In strange ways, like it didn’t belong in the main text. As if someone tried to bury it in random stories and phrases, thinking no one would notice.”
Aether raised his eyebrows. ‘Actually, everything about me… was random,’ he thought. After all the books he read, the stories he heard so far… everything was random.
But it was documented!
That’s the important thing… it’s documented, but in a random place… like a short story or just a piece of a phrase. That’s all!
That’s kind of wrong, right?
They reached the far end of the archive—a rack deep in the corner, so old and neglected that it looked like no one had touched it in decades. Thick layers of dust coated the shelves, and the books looked like they’d crumble under a breath.
“This rack here,” Sandra said, stopping in front of it. “You said the Ebon Stones are linked to ancient times… well, this entire section is filled with records from that era.”
Aether hummed thoughtfully. “It’s filthy. Why don’t we clean it up a bit—” he raised his hand and was about to snap his fingers, preparing a bit of magic to clear the dust, when—
“No! Don’t do that!” Sandra snapped, stepping in quickly. “These books are way too old. It’s honestly a miracle they’ve survived this long. Even the dust between the pages might be what’s holding them together. A single careless spell—even a cleaning one—could make them fall apart. And once the dust goes, the pages might crumble to nothing.”
Aether blinked, hand frozen mid-air. “Alright, alright… no magic.” he shrugged casually as he trailed behind Sandra, who moved carefully, her steps light as she ventured deeper into the dimly lit archive.
“There,” Sandra muttered, raising her hand to point at the top row of the towering shelf. She rose up on the tips of her toes, stretching her body as she tried to reach the book perched high above—but no matter how hard she reached, her fingers fell short.
“You need my help?” Aether offered smoothly, his tone lined with charm, like a gentleman stepping in for a damsel in distress.
Sandra glanced at him, her pride faltering for just a moment. After all, he was taller than her. With a sigh, she gave a small nod.
Aether grinned—no, beamed—as if he had just been knighted. He stepped closer, picking… Sandra?
He suddenly wrapped his hands around her waist and lift her up effortlessly.
“Ah—?!” Sandra gasped in surprise, her eyes going wide as she found herself hoisted into the air like a feather in his firm grip. His hands tightened slightly around her hips, steadying her as she floated above the ground.
Aether’s smile sparkled with knight’s gaze, his grip firm but teasing. Sandra’s eyes narrowed as she glared down at him,
“I told you to pick the book, not pick me!” she snapped.
Aether blinked innocently, tilting his head as if confused. “Hmm? But did I ever say I was going to pick the book? All I said was… I’d help. And I am helping. Now go on, grab it~” he said with a cheeky grin, gently swaying her in place.
Sandra stared down at him blankly, her face frozen as if her brain had short-circuited. There were simply no words for what she was feeling.
With an indifferent tone, she finally muttered, “Put me down.”
“Huh? So you don’t need my help anymore?” Aether asked with innocence, though his hands were still sneaking little teases around her hips.
Sandra’s lips twitched in growing frustration. That innocent face… that damn innocent face. He was doing this on purpose!
“Aether,” she said flatly—but his name came out like a warning shot.
Aether sighed dramatically and finally lowered her back to the ground.
Sandra let out a sharp snort and, without further effort, waved her hand. The book she had been trying to reach suddenly slipped from the shelf and flew straight into her grasp.
“Tsk. Sometimes, I really hate magic,” Aether muttered under his breath, frowning as he turned away and walked toward a nearby desk with a defeated hunch in his shoulders.
Sandra glanced at his back as she caught the book with one hand. Her lips curled slightly, a hint of amusement breaking through her stern expression, watching his slumped posture like a sulking child.
But just as quickly, she composed herself and followed.
She walked over to the desk and sat down quietly—choosing the seat directly across from Aether, even though there was plenty of space beside him.
Without saying a word, Sandra opened the ancient book and pushed it toward him… or at least, that was the plan.
But before she could react, Aether stood up abruptly, his face twisted in an exaggerated scowl.
“What now?” Sandra frowned, arching a brow at him.
Without responding, Aether marched over and sat right next to her, still wearing that furious expression—now almost too close, just inches away from her shoulder.
Sandra blinked in confusion, then her lips trembled. She nearly burst into laughter but held herself back, masking it with a sharp inhale. Taking a calming breath, she began to explain.
“You see… this book is old. Really old…” she said softly, as she slowly opened the fragile pages, treating them like they were made of silk.
Aether leaned in even closer, peering over her shoulder. Sandra’s lips twitched again, clearly annoyed by his proximity—but just as she was about to say something, he seemed to sense it and leaned back slightly, giving her space.
With careful hands, Sandra turned the pages, each one more brittle than the last. She handled them with such care, it was like she was turning pages made of glass.
Aether watched, slightly surprised to see how some of the words and edges were crumbling into dust. ‘So that’s why she told me not to clean them…’ he thought to himself as he followed her hands to a particular passage—just a single paragraph, written in faded ink.
“Everything was ruled by the Primordial… yet, even the Primordial could not help but bow its head to… Ether,” Sandra read aloud slowly, her voice a hush above the silence.
Aether stared at the words, his gaze sharpening. “…Is there anything else?” he asked seriously, his hand reaching out to turn the page.
But Sandra’s hand stopped his.
“There’s nothing after that,” she murmured. Her tone was quiet—almost reverent—as she looked at him. “Ether… the blood of Ether… What exactly is it?” she whispered, as if the answer might be hidden in his eyes, in his silence.
