Chapter 43: Oh Father Forgive Me As I Have Sinned

His eyes flew open, the lingering sleepiness instantly evaporating. He blinked, staring down in disbelief at the head of black hair resting beside him. Not silver. Not Elowen. Black. His heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed hard, his gaze slowly drifting up to meet her eyes. Lira’s dark eyes were looking up at him, wide and glistening with something he couldn’t quite read. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted, and she didn’t pull away. If anything, she seemed to lean in closer, her expression filled with vulnerability. Mikhailis’s mouth went dry, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the situation. How was Lira here? And—more importantly—why was she in his bed? Rodion’s voice, as always, chose the most inopportune time to chime in. <I believe this qualifies as an unexpected development, Mikhailis.> He ignored Rodion, his attention completely on Lira. He could feel the warmth of her hand in his, the closeness of her body, her breath soft against his skin. There was an intimacy in the moment that made his chest tighten. "L-Lira?" he stammered, barely managing to keep his voice steady. Lira didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The look in her eyes spoke louder than words—filled with yearning, longing, and something else that made his heart pound even harder. She leaned closer, her face now just inches from his, her eyes never leaving his. Her hand moved, her fingers brushing against his cheek, and Mikhailis found himself unable to move, unable to think. He could only stare at her, his breath caught in his throat. "Your Highness..." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, her gaze flickering down to his lips. Mikhailis felt his pulse quicken, his heart pounding in his chest as the realization of what was happening hit him fully. He had a choice to make. Mikhailis groaned, rubbing his temples. His mind was still reeling from what had just happened, and the last thing he needed was a lecture from Rodion. But the AI pressed on. <In short: you returned to the castle after yesterday’s battle, spent time with Queen Elowen—yes, including some quality time of intense night intercourse—then this morning, you asked Lira to bring you wine for breakfast. The next thing I knew, you were engaged in, shall we say, less than appropriate behavior. Especially behind your provising wife.> Mikhailis’s heart sank further. His mind flashed back to Elowen, her regal figure, her confident smile, her fierce grace in battle. She had trusted him, and here he was, in bed with Lira, his wife nowhere in sight. Mikhailis’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping. "What? No, no, no, that can’t be right!" he hissed, glancing down at Lira. "You mean... we..." <Yes. Precisely what a ’scum’ would do—relying on the hospitality of a queen and then indulging with her maid while she’s off providing for you. Quite the gentleman, wouldn’t you say?> Mikhailis groaned, his hand covering his face, his fingers digging into his scalp. "What the fuck have I done?" he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and horror. He carefully shifted, trying not to wake Lira as he moved out from under her. He stood up, his legs feeling shaky, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He ran both hands through his hair, tugging at the strands as if that would somehow bring him back to reality. "What the fuck have I done?" he repeated, his voice louder this time, filled with anguish. Rodion’s voice remained calm, almost detached, but there was a hint of satisfaction there—a kind of "I told you so" lurking beneath the surface. <Indeed, Mikhailis. It seems you have quite the predicament on your hands. Might I suggest damage control before this situation spirals further beyond your already impressive abilities to manage?> Mikhailis stared at the sleeping figure on his bed, then back at the empty room, his heart pounding with panic. Damage control. Yes, damage control. But how? How was he going to fix this?