Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Five Seconds to Ruin (Main Course)

Eydis leaned against the merbau counter, arms folded, watching as Astra pulled a vacuum-sealed tray from the fridge.

They’d made it back to Astra’s safe house. Courtesy of Theo’s helicopter, which they’d borrowed in the loosest, most illegal sense of the word. With him heading back to St. Kevin’s soon, it might finally be time to take the ravens up on their standing offer and just get one of her own.

A personal aircraft wasn’t exactly subtle. Then again, neither was arriving on the back of a giant serpent. Or a hell-hound. She’d done both, discreetly.

Still, she drew the line at riding the ravens. That was never happening. Ever.

Technically, Astra didn’t need a helicopter either. The Celestial Empire’s chosen champions didn’t fly, they just refused to take gravity seriously. Eydis was fairly sure Astra could do the same, if she ever stopped pretending she was just another Gifted.

The Gifted here treated magic like water during a drought. One trick per person. Categorised, regulated, disciplined.

Eydis came from a world where power was wild, loud, and occasionally… self-destructive.

That contrast had been obvious once she learned more about the Gifted’s abilities. So was something else: the absence of presence sins. Shadows existed, but they lacked shape and will. None had the density to form anything sentient.

Her attention returned to the countertop. The tray Astra had placed there was definitely raw meat. Pale pink. Fish, probably. There wasn’t a single pot or pan in sight.

“Judging by the complete lack of anything resembling heat,” Eydis said, “I’m assuming this ends in either deliberate poisoning or mild stomach trauma. Which are we going for?”

Astra’s lips twitched, but she didn’t look up. She curled her fingers; a blade of light formed. Then she began slicing the meat into perfect, even pieces.

“Unpredictability bothering you, Eydis?”

“Depends,” Eydis said, “is this unpredictability meant to rattle me… or seduce me?”

Astra scoffed. Too quickly.

Interesting.

Eydis pushed off the counter and moved behind her. Her hand slid around Astra’s waist, grazing the silk of her dress before resting low on her hip, their bodies now flush.

She leaned in to whisper against the curve of Astra’s neck. “So it is seduction.”

Astra’s hand froze, knuckles pale against the blade. The pulse beneath Eydis’s lips thudded fast and hard.

“Who’s seducing who?” Astra asked, breath just slightly uneven.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Eydis pressed another soft kiss to the same spot. “I am. And clearly, I’m winning.”

“You’re impossible.” Astra rolled her eyes. “And distracting.”

Eydis grinned. “Then I’d say we’re even.”

“Either way, you’re still eating this,” Astra muttered.

Eydis sighed. “Fine. But could you at least sear it a little? Or is that considered a crime in your house?”

“I thought you liked seafood. And unpredictability.”

“And how did you know that?”

“I’ve seen you order it. That’s all,” Astra said quietly.

And that honest admission was entirely uncalled for, unfair even, because Eydis felt her face warm, just slightly. Still, she set it aside; teasing Astra had become an irresistible indulgence.

“Seen, as in… watched me eat, tracked my preferences, catalogued and analysed them?” Her voice purred with confidence, betraying none of the fondness she felt.

“Observed,” Astra said, without missing a beat. “Occasionally.”

“So… you have been observing me.” Eydis grinned. “Occasionally.”

Astra gave a tiny shrug.

“Well, that makes it so much less flattering,” Eydis teased, though her gaze had softened. “Back home, seafood was a luxury. Frozen imports from the Northern coast. By the time they reached us, they tasted like seawater.”

Astra turned slightly. “No advanced preservation?”

“We had the means. Our mages could keep it frozen without issue,” Eydis replied. “But mages are valuable, and seafood wasn’t. The sea lies too far from my kingdom, far closer to the Celestial Empire. In the end, someone decided it wasn’t worth the effort. We turned to livestock instead.”

By someone, Eydis thought, she meant the former Queen of Shadows. Efficient. Distant.

“The Celestial Empire?” Astra asked.

“That’s where you’re from,” Eydis said simply. “Presumably.”

Astra didn’t look angry, just thoughtful. “But how can you be sure? We’ve never met. Or at least… you say I don’t remember.”

“There’s a pattern to your kind,” Eydis said. “The ones from the Empire are different. Paler. Lighter hair. Light magic, typically.”

And you… are the brightest among them. Their Saintess. Revered by the very people who claimed to worship no one.

But the words stayed behind her teeth. Cowardice, procrastination, maybe. Or something worse… hope. That if she didn’t say too much whatever this was might last, even just a second longer.

“Light,” Astra murmured, almost to herself. She was arranging the slices in a star-like spiral on a black earthenware plate. Then she pulled out another cut. White, glossy.

Eydis watched Astra’s fingers move, precise, elegant, and beautiful in their own way.

Unsurprisingly, kind of hot.

“You like seafood.” Astra changed the subject. “But I don’t think you’ve had the right kind.”

“St. Kevin’s didn’t exactly serve anything decent. So this is your counterpoint? Raw fish on a fancy plate?”

“Not just raw fish. Something better, fresher.” Astra lifted her gaze. “Equal parts decadent… and delicate.”

Eydis’s hands tightened on Astra’s waist. “I won’t know until I taste it, will I?”

Their eyes found one another, and the silence burned.

After a breath Eydis asked, “The pink one’s salmon, isn’t it? And the white?”

Astra’s gaze dropped to the plate again. “Not salmon. Otoro. Bluefin tuna belly. Harder to find, especially fresh.” She pointed to the white cut. “And that’s Kingfish.”

“Did you spend the last two days hunting this down?”

The silence that followed was full of everything Astra hadn’t said, and everything Eydis didn’t quite dare to say. She felt the pull toward Astra again, but she forced her hands to let go.

Because this careful offering of something rare, this thoughtful planning, deserved more than impulse.

It deserved patience.

Still, she brushed a slow kiss across Astra’s mouth. It was different somehow; their kisses had always been passionate, full of fire and hunger in one form or another. But this time, it was slower, softer, like they had all the time in the world.

And yet, it left her breathless all the same.

When they separated, Astra gave her a small smile. “Distract me again, and we won’t be ready until midnight.”

“You know, that’s starting to sound like a very soft invitation.”

A knowing look, then Astra lifted a pale root nearly as long as her forearm, with a leafy green crown at the top.

Eydis blinked. “That looks ridiculous.”

“Does it?” Astra laid the blade flat and began peeling the skin with precise strokes. “It’s a radish. Daikon, technically.”

“And how does it taste?”

“Mild. Crisp.” Astra sliced the flesh into paper-thin sheets, tore them into fine ribbons, then shaped them gently into a nest at the center of the plate. “Slightly sweet… if you treat it gently.”

Eydis might’ve let the comment slide, but then she caught the sparkle in her eyes.

“But there’s heat beneath the surface,” Astra continued in a near-whisper. “Not everything reveals its nature all at once.”

That line shouldn’t have meant anything. But it landed like a secret meant for her alone. Eydis said nothing, her eyes fixed on Astra’s hands. This time, she didn’t bother hiding the fond smile curving at her lips, or the flush that came with it.

Who’s seducing whom now?

The first bite of otoro surprised her: the subtle saltiness of the soy sauce, the sharp heat of the wasabi, and the way the fish melted on her tongue.

Eating something so rich in flavour, so indulgent for the sake of taste, was supposed to be something she disliked. But then came the crisp radish. A cool, clean note never meant to rise above the melody. And yet, it pulled the richness back from excess.

Balance.

It was… unlike anything she had ever tasted before.

Kingfish came next, firm after its citrus bath. The entire plate spoke of intention. Just honesty in texture and taste.

Just like Astra.

Eydis paused for a moment too long, chopsticks frozen between her fingers.

Across the table Astra frowned. “You don’t like it?”

“I…” Eydis set the chopsticks down, rested her chin on her hand, and held Astra’s gaze. “You don’t even like seafood, do you?”

Astra looked uncertain. “Does it taste wrong?”

Eydis reached across the table, threading her fingers through Astra’s, careful not to disturb the flickering candlelight between them. “No,” she said softly, her thumb brushing slow circles against Astra’s knuckles. “They taste divine.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“Because I know you. I’ve been paying attention too.” She squeezed Astra’s hand. “You’re a steak-and-ribs kind of girl. Hearty, straightforward.”

“How long have you been watching?” Astra’s question slipped out in a whisper.

Eydis brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. “Long enough. Even before I realised why I couldn’t look away.

Astra leaned into her palm like it was instinct. “You’re right,” she admitted. “Seafood isn’t my usual.”

“And yet, here it is.” Eydis’s voice dipped. “Perfectly prepared. Thoughtfully plated. Just for me.”

She released Astra’s hand, slowly rose from her seat, and stepped around the table. Astra’s eyes followed her, curious and still.

“And as beautiful as this meal is…” Eydis’s voice lowered as her gaze dropped to Astra’s lips, “I’d be a fool not to ask for something even sweeter.”

Eydis silenced Astra with a kiss. Soft, at first. Then deeper.

This wasn’t the feather-light press of lips from earlier.

This was fire. Fierce. The same kind of kiss that had stolen their breath in the dorm, where the possibility of Lust pulling strings was both the reason to stop, and the reason they never wanted to.

But now… 

Now Eydis didn’t care.

Because this was too much. 

Because it had been building, aching, waiting. 

And in this moment, Eydis didn’t want reason.

She just wanted her.

She wanted the way Astra remembered the little things. The way she listened without demanding. The way she gave without needing to be seen doing it.

When Eydis broke the kiss, she didn’t move far. Her lips shifted lower, pressing against Astra’s throat, then pausing just above the collarbone.

She left a mark. Not with lipstick. 

With her teeth.

Astra inhaled sharply, her head tilting to expose more skin. Eydis let her lips toy with the pearl of Astra’s choker before kissing lower. Another mark. Another reaction that made her light-headed.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Astra breathed.

Eydis’s breath touched Astra’s cheek as she considered the words. “I’ve learned a few things."

Her hand slid down the length of Astra’s spine, seeking the hem of the dress. When she found it, she didn’t rush, just slipped beneath languidly, palm meeting bare skin.

Astra stopped breathing.

Then Eydis gripped her thigh firmly, smiling as a low, raw sound vibrated from Astra’s throat. She caught the sound between their lips. Her tongue moved slow, sure, coaxing another shiver from Astra’s body.

The fire low in her belly surged.

She climbed onto Astra’s lap, straddling her. The dress rode higher as their hips moved, their bodies aligning, skin brushing skin, heat building in layers between them. Somewhere between a gasp and a breath, a zipper slid open.

Astra’s cool fingers slipped beneath the black fabric, exploring her back with reverence before gliding along her bare spine, up to her shoulder blades. Her other hand circled Eydis’s waist and pulled her close, seeking permission and, in the same movement, taking it.

Eydis didn’t even have time to react before Astra rose suddenly. Eydis was lifted, placed on the edge of the oak dining table. She gasped as the dress slid fully up her thighs.

Astra’s hand tightened around them.

Then her thumb moved, in a slow, lazy circle. Pressing into soft, sensitive skin, high enough to tease, low enough to make her shiver. Too close. Not close enough. Her breath caught, her head tipping back.

And then…

A phone rang, once.

Astra’s phone. Eydis knew it wasn’t hers; she’d powered down earlier, on purpose.

“Let it ring,” she growled. Her lips returned to Astra’s neck. Another kiss. Then a scrape of teeth.

The phone kept ringing. 

Then another one joined. 

Then another.

Eydis froze. Her chest rose and fell against Astra’s. Her voice came low, reluctant. “Just how many phones do you have?”

Astra blinked, dazed and flushed. Her scowl was unconvincing. “I thought I didn’t have any missions tonight.”

The ringtones didn’t agree. They piled over each other, persistent.

Eydis exhaled. Her forehead rested briefly against Astra’s. “You should check them.”

Astra nodded slowly, reaching for the nearest phone as her eyes scanned the screen. Then the temperature in the room changed, and the softness in her expression receded.

“I have to go,” she said.

Eydis didn’t argue or reach for her again.

Silence followed Astra’s departure, lingering like the last trace of heat between them. Alone now, Eydis sat back, the final bite of sashimi melting on her tongue. She stared at nothing in particular and murmured,

“Cerberus. Know your duty.”

Cerberus stepped out from the sound of her voice, attempting to bark, but Eydis mumbled something under her breath.

What came out of his mouth was:

“As you command, Your Majesty.”