Mikhailis could feel Elowen's lips on his. It was quick, but it left a mark. A wonderful sensation. Soft, gentle, but there was something deeper, like a hidden fire between them.

He slowly let the kiss grow, enjoying each second. He pulled her closer with his hands resting on her waist. Elowen's fingers moved to his chest, holding his tunic lightly as if she needed to hold on to the moment.

Her lips parted, and Mikhailis saw that as a sign.

His tongue lightly traced her lips before entering, exploring the warmth of her mouth. Elowen responded, and Mikhailis cold see her eyes became intoxicated. Their tongues moving together, slow and careful. The air around them felt charged, almost like the magic of Silvarion itself was reacting to them.

Mikhailis noticed her breathing getting faster, her chest rising against his. His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer until there was no space between them. He learnt that it's a move that showcase confidence, perfect when the opponent is a woman of a high social hierarchy.

Well, from an intense session if 'internet' training. Oh!

Elowen's grip on his shirt tightened, her nails slightly scratching his skin as the kiss became more intense, more urgent as if they are thirsting each other.

Their tongues moved in sync, teasing, daring each other to take control. Mikhailis felt magic buzzing under his skin and wondered if Elowen could feel it too—the raw energy flowing between them in this intimate moment.

Elowen let out a small gasp as Mikhailis's hands moved lower, resting on her hips. She deepened the kiss even more, her lips pressing harder against his. Their breaths mixed in the cool night air, making the heat between them impossible to ignore.

Mikhailis pulled back for a second, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth as he whispered her name.

"Elowen..."

Finally, her golden eyes opened slowly, it was such a beautiful pair of eyes that made him feel like she's absorbing him. The pair of beautiful eyes gaze into his with a mix of desire and something softer. Her breath came in quick, quiet bursts, and Mikhailis could feel her trembling slightly in his arms.

She didn't need to say anything—the way she looked at him said it all. She was just as caught up in the moment as he was. For the first time, Mikhailis felt something more than just politics or magic between them. It was real, raw.

And from her eyes, he could know that she's truly seek him.

It's not an act, not something that happened due to duty.

It's a true sense of longing.

Seriously, this girl...

He leaned in again, kissing her slower this time, deeper. His hands moved along her back, pulling her even closer. Elowen let out a soft sound, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed against him.

The tension between them kept building. Mikhailis's hands then started to wander lower, his fingers brushing the edge of her dress, and for a moment, he imagined what it would be like to go further, to explore more.

But just as his fingers touched her skin, something changed.

A strange light appeared in the corner of the room, catching both of their attention. The air around them started to hum, and before Mikhailis could understand what was happening, a glowing rift opened up.

"What the—" Mikhailis was surprised, but he's not stupid. He immediately pulled back Elowen and put her behind him, while his heart racing as he stared at the rift.

Elowen, too, was taken aback, her cheeks flushed from their kiss. For a brief moment, her vulnerability was evident, her golden eyes wide with surprise, her lips still parted from the kiss they had just shared as she could feel the alive sensation. But then, just as quickly, her expression shifted. The softness, the vulnerability—it was gone, replaced by the regal mask of a queen.

"Hm? Elowen?" Mikhailis asked in worry.

Elowen stood tall, her back straightening as she addressed the intruder with the commanding tone of a ruler.

"Serelith," she called with a voice that is both steady and authoritative.

The rift pulsed once more, and from within its swirling depths stepped Serelith Malanor, the court magician of Silvarion. Her dark robes billowed around her as she emerged, her sharp, violet eyes locking onto Mikhailis and Elowen with a knowing look.

No, more like a knowing grin.

"My Queen," Serelith said as she her head slightly.

"Forgive the intrusion, but it is customary for the court magician to offer a blessing on the night of a royal union."

Mikhailis blinked, trying to process what was happening.

A blessing? Now? Of all times?

Right when I'm going at the right direction?

It took me an all-nighter to make the perfect scenario of our newlywed lovely night, you know?

Elowen's expression remained calm, though Mikhailis could see the faintest hint of irritation in her eyes.

Well, I guess I'm not the only one who is irritated.

She turned to face Serelith fully, her tone polite but firm.

"You could have waited until morning, Serelith," Elowen said, Mikhailis could feel her voice carrying the weight of authority heavier than usual.

Serelith raised an eyebrow, and her lips curling into a faint smile.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I thought it prudent to offer my blessing sooner rather than later. Magic, after all, does not wait for convenience."

Mikhailis resisted the urge to groan. He had just been on the verge of something—something significant—and now, here they were, interrupted by a rift and a blessing.

Can you bless us after at least the first round?

I don't really mind if you actually wants to join in, you know?

Of course, he could only joke like that inside his mind. He know it could be a matter of life and death if he uttered the wrong joke, especially in front of a dangerous owman like Serelith.

Elowen let out a soft sigh, Mikhailis noticed her composure returning fully as she nodded.

"Very well, Serelith. Proceed with the blessing."

Serelith stepped forward, her eyes flicking briefly to Mikhailis before she turned her full attention to Elowen. Then at that moment, the air around her seemed to hum with power as she raised her hands, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

It was a beautiful sight that Mikhailis finally saw firsthand.

Magic...

"The magic of Silvarion flows through both of you now," Serelith intoned, her voice was low and melodic.

"This union is not just of flesh and heart, but of magic and spirit. May your bond be strengthened by the ancient forces of this land, and may you both find power in your connection to each other."

In each word pared from his lips, Mikhailis could see frequencies and respon coming from the patterns forming in the air.

He tried to observe, but could only make a limited analysis of it. 

Well, I guess I'll let Rodion to analyze the rest of it.

Mikhailis watched as the magical symbols Serelith created in the air glowed faintly before fading away. He could feel the pulse of magic in the room, the energy swirling around them, and for a moment, he wondered if the blessing was more than just words and wishes, but more like a binding contract, or worse, a curse.

Serelith lowered her hands, her eyes meeting Mikhailis's for a brief second before she bowed once more.

"May your night be filled with the blessings of the ancients, Your Majesty, Your Highness," she said with a sly smile before turning and summoning a new rift, and stepping back toward the rift.

With a final glance at Elowen and Mikhailis with a sly grin intact on her face, Serelith disappeared back into the shimmering portal, leaving them alone once again.

The room fell silent, save for the soft rustling of the leaves outside the window.

Mikhailis let out a long breath, his mind still spinning from the sudden interruption.

We seriously got interrupted right in the best moment, huh?

He turned to Elowen with a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, that was... unexpected," he shrugged.

Elowen then gave a soft laugh, shaking her head as she stepped closer to him.

"Welcome to Silvarion," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Mikhailis chuckled, but then pulling her back into his arms.

"Now, where were we?" he murmured, leaning in once more, ready to pick up where they had left off.