Chapter 22: Lingering Warmth

Celia had just leaned over to pick up her crumpled shirt when the door was pushed open.

Looking back, she saw Onyxia standing by the door, carrying a fragrant bag in one hand and several sets of clean clothes draped over her other arm.

Onyxia’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of Celia half-kneeling among the scattered clothes and Ilyas bundled tightly in the blankets on the bed.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

She placed the paper bag and the clothes on a nearby cabinet and walked toward Celia.

Before Celia could fully stand up, Onyxia reached out to cup her chin, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips.

It was a brief, gentle kiss.

Onyxia didn’t push further, and after a momentary daze, Celia silently accepted the intimacy.

As they pulled apart, Onyxia’s thumb brushed over Celia’s lower lip, her eyes shimmering with amusement.

Right then, a weak, shy, yet persistent voice came from the bed.

“I… I want one too.”

The two turned together.

Ilyas was sitting upright on the edge of the bed at some point, the thin quilt having slipped down to her waist.

Her hands gripped the sheets nervously, and her moist eyes looked directly at them, her cheeks flushed deep red.

Onyxia let out a soft chuckle.

She released Celia’s chin and moved her hand to wrap around her waist, turning her toward Ilyas.

“Did you hear that?”

Onyxia whispered to Celia.

“Our Little Iliath… is making a request.”

Celia let out a soft sigh under Onyxia’s playful gaze—a sigh filled with a sort of resigned indulgence.

She naturally slipped out of Onyxia’s embrace and walked over to the bedside.

She stopped in front of the kneeling Ilyas and leaned down slightly.

Reaching out, her fingertips gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Ilyas’s forehead before she lowered her head and pressed a soft kiss to the girl’s lips.

“There,” Celia said as she straightened up, patting the girl’s head.

“Request granted. Now, it’s time to get up, Iliya. If you stay in bed any longer, it’ll be night again.”

Ilyas seemed to snap out of her daze, her face burning as she sluggishly began to climb out of bed.

Meanwhile, Onyxia had calmly retrieved the clean clothes from the cabinet.

She handed one set to Ilyas and the other to Celia.

“Put these on so you don’t catch a cold. Your figure is truly wonderful, but you can’t exactly eat like that. If you do, I might not be able to restrain myself.”

Celia’s face turned bright red at the comment.

She quickly turned her back to Onyxia and pulled on her clothes with a sense of hurried urgency.

Onyxia leaned against the cabinet and watched her, her gaze filled with unabashed appreciation.

On the other side, Ilyas acted like a cautious little animal, rustling about within the covers to keep herself covered while reaching out an arm to grab her clothes.

She hardly dared to look up the entire time.

Before long, the three of them were dressed.

Onyxia opened the warm paper bag, and the aroma of food immediately filled the room.

It was a typical dinner from a nearby tavern.

“We’ll have to make do with this,” Onyxia said as she laid the food out on the small round table in the center of the room.

She pulled over two chairs and took a seat on the edge of the bed herself.

“We can decide what to do today after we eat.”

Celia sat down and picked up a piece of bread, eating slowly.

The soreness deep in her body served as a constant reminder of last night’s madness, but the warm food provided a sense of comfort as it hit her stomach.

She noticed Ilyas taking tiny bites of her food, her gaze occasionally drifting toward Celia before darting away the moment their eyes met.

Onyxia maintained a languid posture.

She casually placed the largest piece of roasted meat from the platter into Celia’s bowl, her tone soft yet meaningful.

“Eat more, Celia. You used up quite a lot of energy yesterday.”

Celia’s hand paused as she gripped her utensils, feeling insulted.

“That is a complete slander. How could I have used up a lot of energy? If you ask me, the one who needs to eat more to recover is you.”

Her ears felt warm, yet she stood her ground.

“Last night, I was clearly the one who held out until the end.”

“Is that so?”

Onyxia slowly ladled a spoonful of soup.

“True, a Pillow Princess doesn’t really have to exert much physical effort.”

“You…!”

Celia was choked up by the title, her ears turning crimson as she found herself at a loss for words.

“What, you want to argue? Miss Celia the Dark Elf, I confirmed it with my own hands last night—your entire body was incredibly soft. You didn’t seem anything like the Dark Elves described in the ancient texts.”

Celia’s momentum faltered, her stubborn front pierced.

She looked away, her voice dropping.

“My body is just… a bit unique. Please, whatever you do, never let my kin find out about this. Otherwise, my life will be completely ruined.”

“We don’t care what your kin think of you, but Ilyas and I…”

Onyxia’s tone suddenly softened as she turned her gaze toward the girl eating quietly beside her.

“We like you just the way you are. Right, Ilyas?”

Suddenly being called upon, Ilyas nearly choked.

She raised her flushed face.

“Um… Celia, you… you feel very comfortable to touch, and…”

She paused, gathering her courage to add, “And, you were very cute last night.”

“Please don’t — “

Celia pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Don’t use ‘cute’ to describe a Dark Elf… Just you wait, I’ll prove myself one day.”

“But Celia, you’re too sensitive. Even if we’re just lying there, if we just touch you, your whole body goes limp. Like that…”

Ilyas said with an earnest expression.

“Stop it.”

Celia’s voice abruptly cut her off, sounding more hurried and weaker than before.

She didn’t even look up, staring instead at the piece of roasted meat in her bowl that had suddenly become difficult to swallow.

Her earlobes were so red they were almost transparent.

Then, Onyxia’s laughter rang out.

She reached across the table and ruffled Ilyas’s hair, putting an end to the girl’s analytical streak.

“All right, Ilyas. If you keep going, someone might try to crawl under the table.”

Ilyas raised her hands, fussing to smooth her messy hair.

She mumbled in a low voice, “Even though I’m the shortest, I’m already an adult… stop ruffling my hair all the time.”

Onyxia nodded obediently.

“Alright, I understand, Miss Ilyas the adult.”

Celia didn’t join the conversation.

She simply picked up her glass and took a large gulp of water, as if trying to cool the burning heat on her face.

Under the table, she kicked Onyxia’s shin.

There wasn’t much force behind it; it was more of a silent protest.

Having taken the kick, Onyxia’s smile only deepened.

She withdrew her hand and picked up her utensils again.

“Hurry up and eat. The food is getting cold.”

After a brief moment of silence, she seemed to remember something and brought it up casually.

“By the way, when I went out to buy food this morning, I found an interesting place behind the Old Market on the west side of town.”

Celia finally looked up from her bowl, her eyes filled with curiosity.