Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Queen vs. Infection

“Undress."

Eydis's eyebrows shot up. Had she heard correctly?

Surprised, and maybe a little confused, she blinked once. Heat rushed to her face, and the fever didn’t help. She shook herself. Get it together.

“Eager to see the bunnies come off, Princess?”

Astra froze, startled by her own words. A rare, oddly captivating blush coloured her face.

“That’s not— I didn’t mean— I meant you should be wearing something more…” She floundered, almost adorably. “Breathable. Silk.”

Eydis smirked. “Silk? Astra, have you met my finances? They just fainted in the alley behind the op shop.”

"Fiancés?”Astra frowned, then caught on. “Finances. Maybe I should bill you for entertaining your fevered rambling at midnight.”

Eydis gasped. "Bill me? For your auditory hallucinations? My imaginary husband’s non-existent wallet is sobbing.”

Astra’s smile vanished and she turned away. “Husband, huh?” She tossed an identical silk robe onto the bed. “Put this on. I’ll get a cold compress.”

“I can barely lift my head.” Eydis groaned, tugging at her pyjama top. The buttons refused to budge.

“Imagine the sweat and discomfort. Wouldn’t you rather air out those… bunnies?”

Eydis arched a brow. “That… was a bold choice of phrasing.”

Astra’s cheeks warmed further. “I meant those—those fashion crimes you’re wearing.”

"So now I'm sweaty and fashion-challenged?" Eydis chuckled despite her exhaustion. Astra’s lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

Now that she mentioned it, the itchy fabric did feel like a swarm of fire ants.

“Care to help, roomie? My fingers seem to have forgotten they’re attached to my hands.”

Astra appeared conflicted. Then, with a huff, she perched at the edge of the bed. “Only because watching you wrestle those buttons is starting to hurt my eyes.”

She locked eyes with Eydis, fingers pausing at the first button. One second. Two. Maybe ten. Eydis lost count.

"Well?" Eydis had grown impatient. "Are we going to have a staring contest, or are you going to liberate me from this furry prison? Tick-tock, Princess, the suspense is positively agonising."

“Are you sure?”

“Astra, I’ve been dressed and undressed by more hands than I can count. This is hardly scandalous.”

Back home, handmaidens were as essential as breath. Elaborate gowns didn’t lace themselves. Even breathing was optional.

“Of course. I forgot how extensive your experience is with… intimate assistance.”

Eydis had no time to question the sharpness in Astra’s voice, before her buttons came undone, one after another, under Astra’s precise fingers. 

"You're not wearing—" Astra’s voice caught halfway through the sentence.

“Undergarments?” Eydis replied a little too quickly, a little too breathlessly, fully aware of Astra’s fingers now hovering inches from her collarbone. “You say that like you expected me to be prepared for company. I’ve been dying, Astra.”

“You had time for fuzzy rabbits.”

“Would you prefer I wear not—” She cut herself off the moment Astra’s ears turned pink. Oh. 

That’s how it sounded.

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Astra grumbled, working toward the final button. Her eyes never wandered, fixed entirely on Eydis’s face.

Which only made Eydis more aware of every breath between them and every twitch of Astra’s fingers.

She swallowed, a little shakily. The Queen of Shadows, who had stood unblinking before primal evils, was unravelling over the slow unbuttoning of a… pyjama top? 

Absurd.

And yet her pulse wouldn’t slow.

When the last button gave way, Astra opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead, she drew a sharp breath as her fingers accidentally grazed the bare skin of Eydis’s midriff. 

Eydis’s heart skipped a beat. She had been undressed more times than she could count: ceremony, duty, necessity.

But it was both a truth and a lie. 

Never like this.  

Never fingers that lingered too long. 

Never eyes that pretended not to look.

This felt almost… illicit.

Eydis realised this was a losing battle from the very start. She caught Astra’s wrist. “That’s enough, thank you. I can manage the rest.”

Astra’s expression flickered with relief, or was it disappointment, as she pulled her hand away. “I’ll be back.”

Eydis eased into the silk robe. Cool, fragrant with sandalwood, it hugged her body in all the wrong ways. Or the right ones.

Her head throbbed. Her heart pounded.

It’s the fever, she told herself. Delirium. Mana depletion. A side effect. Anything but—

Why had Astra shown up the moment she woke?

Why had her eyes, usually so cold, held something that stole breath from Eydis’s lungs?

And why, in the name of all arcane logic, hadn’t Astra used telekinesis?

The Queen of Shadows was well-practiced in ignoring inconvenient truths. Denial was a form of magic in itself.

Ice Princess? No.

She was fire. Quiet, creeping, consuming.

A contradiction.

Spieglein,

Spieglein an der Wand…

Oh, for the love of Hades!

The voice rose again, somewhere deep in her unconscious mind. She felt a moment of clarity brush against her, only to be swallowed again by the fog of fever.

She couldn’t remember why she had said those senseless things to Pride, or when it had happened. All that remained was the anger and bitterness emotions she hadn’t known she could feel.

Then the sensation. Not a memory, but the present.

Cold. Bitterly, achingly cold, and… empty. It reminded her of the battle against Cerberus. Had her poison taken effect even a moment later, her fading strength wouldn’t have been enough to save her.

"B-burning… cold..." Eydis shivered even as her skin burned with fever. She kicked the scratchy blanket aside and curled into a foetal position.

Fabric rustled overhead. A heavier weight landed on her, coarse fibers scraping overheated skin. Too rough, too much, too wrong. She swatted it away, weakly, angrily, hopelessly.

A sigh followed, and a warm palm pressed to her brow. Half-conscious, Eydis lashed out on instinct, intending to push it away, to snarl, to drive it back.

Yet instead, her fingers closed around it and pulled it closer.

Someone gasped. Someone tried to pull away. Then warmth collapsed onto her.

“Heavy,” she muttered in complaint, though her body adjusted and molded around it. This warmth wasn’t from fever or fabric—it breathed, it responded, it answered when she reached.

The warmth tried to slip away, but she didn’t want to let go. Her fingers tangled in silken strands of hair, and her body arched instinctively toward the heat.

Her other hand roamed, tracing the smooth lines of fabric that felt like silk against her skin. When the warmth relaxed, surrendered, Eydis let out a soft purr of contentment. Her cheek came to rest against another smooth surface, not silk, but… supple skin. That alone might have jolted her back to awareness if she weren’t already exhausted.

Then she heard the erratic thud of a heartbeat, followed by a moan—hers and not hers. Eydis wasn’t falling into darkness this time, but somewhere quieter.

Maybe even peace.

There was another scent: dark oak and sandalwood tickled her nose as she buried her face deeper into the warmth. It was rich and intoxicating, pulling her further into the haze.

Then she felt it: a tremor. Perhaps… laughter. 

“Clearly, you’re better at purring than hopping.”

Eydis smiled at that. Awake, she might have snapped something back, but she let the words carry her.

Closer, she thought. She wanted more of the warmth, the heartbeat, the scent, the softness, the quiet.

And then she fell into sleep. 

Dreamless.