"Let’s call it a night, Mr. Fischer."
Fieron rolled his shoulder, sore from hours of discussion. They’d continued analyzing the soul data, but most of Fischer’s theories remained unverified guesses. The night had grown deep, and Fieron decided to halt the evening's work.
Just as he tried to stand, he realized his steam-powered arm wasn’t moving. With a sigh, he reached for a bottle of lubricant on the nearby shelf and said,"Mr. Fischer, could you help out? My arm seems to be jamd."
Fischer took the bottle, applying a few drops to the gear joints. After nudging them gently with his fingers, the arm hissed with steam and ca back to life, moving freely once again.
"You installed a miniature steam device in your back?"
Fischer had spotted a glowing bulge beneath Fieron’s shirt.
"Can’t hide anything from you... It’s a compact, complex steam ring. It doesn’t use much power under normal conditions, so I don’t need to refuel often. I can even detach it when I don’t need it."
He flexed the arm and chuckled. "Still not quite the sa as the real thing... But it’ll do. Thanks."
Fischer smiled, setting the lubricant on the desk. As he stood and stretched, sothing on the wall caught his eye—a small embroidered panel, finely stitched to depict a lifelike griffin.
"Where’s this from? I rarely see embroidery this beautiful."
"Haha, it’s from my hotown, Ulen. People there are very skilled at it—always have been."
Fischer leaned in to examine the piece, then seed to recall sothing."Ulen? That’s one of Nary’s coal mining regions, isn’t it?"
Fieron gazed at the embroidery alongside him. After a long pause, he quietly replied,"...Yes. It is."
When they returned to the manor, they found Larr playing with a steam-powered toy on the ground floor, surrounded by several of the children Fieron had taken in.
Fischer only rembered the na of the Werekin girl Qiqi; the rest were unfamiliar—there were more than a dozen of them, after all.
As soon as the kids saw Fieron, they rushed over and clung to his legs. Qiqi frowned and pointed accusingly at Larr.
“Daddy! That little dragon took my toy!”
...
Fischer glanced from Larr, who clutched the toy, to Raphaëlle, who averted her eyes.
Feeling the stare, Raphaëlle grew flustered.“Larr told them she just wanted to borrow it for a bit… But they didn’t understand...”
Fieron chuckled and lifted Qiqi into his arms."It’s fine. It’s just a toy. Let her play with it. Did you all drink your milk like Sister Fia told you?"
“We did!” Qiqi replied.
“And what should you do after milk?”
“Go to bed!”
Just then, another Werekin child tugged on Fieron’s pant leg.“Daddy! You promised to look at my drawing tonight!”
“Haha, of course. Why don’t you show it to our new Dragonkin friend too?”
The boy, Boqi, bead and ran off wagging his tail.
At that mont, Nana, the Minotaur girl in a dress, returned to the manor. She seed busy with administrative duties, only now getting back.
“Lord Fieron, the Werekin agreed. They’re glad for the opportunity.”
“Good. That should help improve life for the demi-humans.”
“Daddy, look at my drawing!”
Boqi ca running back with a crayon picture of a green field. In it were children and a tall man in a suit—faceless.
“Who’s this?” Fieron crouched down and pointed at the suited figure.
“That’s you, Daddy. You without your mask. You probably didn’t wear one before, right? So I drew you like that. And when you’re all better, you won’t need the mask anymore!”
Fieron smiled faintly and looked at Fischer.“Haha... these kids really are sothing else.”
Fischer glanced at Larr, who had started chewing on the toy’s tal parts, and flicked her forehead. She stopped with a pout.
“I wanna be an artist when I grow up, Daddy! Is that okay?”
“Ah, that’s a wonderful dream. Then you’ll need to work hard—starting with getting a good night’s sleep.”
“Okay!”
Fieron patted Boqi’s head, then instructed the maids to lead the children off to bed. A few still clung to him, begging to be tucked in, so he followed them to their rooms with a sigh.
“We’ll head to bed too, Miss Nana,” Fischer said.
In the parlor, Nana gave him a polite nod. She still seed distant—probably still holding a grudge over the Ohn incident.
“Good night, Mr. Fischer. Miss Raphaëlle,” she said in Dragon Court tongue.
Fischer led Raphaëlle and the others upstairs. Before leaving, he reminded Larr to return the toy—otherwise she’d definitely try to sleep with it. She didn’t even realize it was a car; she just liked that it had wheels and could roll.
“Where’s Mir and the others?”
“They ca down earlier, but got bored and went back.”
Fischer returned Larr to their shared room with Mir and the others. When the door shut, the hallway was quiet—only Fischer and Raphaëlle remained. He turned to look at her, making her instinctively look away.
“Co on. Ti to sleep.”
“…Mm.”
Raphaëlle had intended to change clothes, but with Fischer nearby, she dove into her bedroll first, then slipped out of her clothes under the covers and pushed them outside the blanket.
Fischer didn’t even glance at her. He sat on the bed, writing by the lamp with a quill.
He was drafting notes about today’s research with Fieron—hypotheses about soul traits, potential detection thods, and theoretical fraworks. Raphaëlle hadn’t wanted to look at him, but when she noticed he was completely absorbed in his work, ignoring her entirely, she couldn’t help turning around. She peeked from her bedroll, watching him work by lamplight.
After a long while, Fischer rolled his shoulder, set his notebook and pen aside, and said,“Ti to sleep... What, are you analyzing how to beat ?”
He had noticed her gaze.
Her red horns lit up her features. It was hard to tell if her cheeks were flushed. She tugged the blanket higher until only her eyes showed and softly replied,“…Yeah.”
“Good. The more you think, the better your chances. I’m turning off the light.”
He switched off the lamp. From the sounds in the hall, it seed Fieron and Nana had returned to their rooms as well. Fischer lay under the covers, placing his cane by the bed in case the Dragonkin girl tried to ambush him in the night.
But Raphaëlle wasn’t planning an ambush. For so reason, sharing a room with this human made her feel hot and restless. She couldn’t sleep.
The moonlight filtered through the curtains, and only the soft rhythm of two people breathing could be heard. In the distance, muffled whispers ca from Mir’s room—Larr wondering aloud about breakfast, while Fassil and Cachil tickled her, only for Mir to scold them.
The walls weren’t soundproof. Fortunately, their room was farther from Mir’s than it was from Fieron’s or Nana’s.
Raphaëlle’s ears twitched as she unconsciously started listening outside to distract herself from the heat.
Soon, the hallway creaked. A door opened—probably Nana’s. Light footsteps followed, then the sound of Fieron’s door opening.
“Lord Fieron...” ca Nana’s soft, gentle voice. Muffled at this distance, but still clear enough. “May I serve you again tonight...?”
“…I’d be grateful.”
“…”
The door closed.
Then ca low breaths... and Nana’s faint moans.
Raphaëlle’s mind blanked.
Her face flushed deep red.
Wait—was that Minotaur girl and the lord...?!
“F-Fe—Fischer!”
She shot upright from her bedroll, steaming with embarrassnt, and turned to him in a panic. “Did you... did you hear that?!”
Fischer remained lying still, then opened one eye and said after a pause,“Don’t listen. Go to sleep.”
Raphaëlle pursed her lips, then lay back down.
Wait wait wait...
Humans and demi-humans could...?!
No. That wasn’t—she shouldn’t be thinking about that! And certainly not about Fischer!
But he was human. And she was Dragonkin…
No, no! Sure, he was strong. And… well, a good guy. But that didn’t an she’d pick him as her Tailmate! Let alone do… that!
Right. Of course.
She pulled a pillow over her ears to block the noises. She didn’t notice how her scales softened—how they shimred as she thought of a certain soone. She hugged her long tail tightly, as if holding—
No! Stop!
Sleep! Just sleep!
Don’t think about it! Don’t think about that! Don’t think about Fischer!
Humans and demi-humans…
DON’T THINK!!
anwhile, Fischer quietly opened both eyes. His face had gone flat and blank like a dead fish’s.
The faint scent of Raphaëlle’s steam had filled the room again.
He didn’t need to ask—he already knew that girl was off in her own ridiculous fantasies again.
He wisely said nothing. He simply glanced toward Fieron’s room, lost in thought.
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