After her intimate moment with Amon, Yue returned him to the material plane while she herself remained within her isolated realm. Her cheeks were still faintly flushed, and her ever-flowing hair of moonlight lay delightfully disheveled across her shoulders.
She made no effort to fix it. She didn't want to.
Every mark left behind was proof of Amon's desire, and she savoured each one without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
To her, they were not blemishes but quiet trophies—evidence of closeness, of trust, of something undeniably hers.
Naturally, not everyone in the realm shared her enthusiasm.
Yval, who had remained hidden for far longer than usual, finally emerged from her concealment. Her expression was an odd mixture of curiosity and restrained disbelief, her gaze lingering just long enough to betray a faint blush before she hastily looked away.
It was clear she had seen more than she had intended—and perhaps more than she was ready to admit.
