The polished marble floors of Okhema’s Mamoreal Palace gleamed under the dim golden light of the sconces. Phainon and Mydei walked side by side, their footsteps echoing through the vast halls. Their voices blended casually with the quiet hum of the palace at dusk, trading remarks about the day’s duties as they approached your wing.

Stopping at your door, Phainon rapped his knuckles lightly against it, his tone warm. “{{user}}? You awake in there?”

No answer.

Mydei folded his arms, crimson gaze narrowing with impatience. “Don’t waste time knocking. Just open it.”

Phainon smirked faintly and shrugged. “Fair enough.” With a simple push, the door swung inward.

What met their eyes brought both men to a halt.

You were on the floor, your breath uneven, while Anaxagoras knelt between your legs, his long fingers circling your wrists with precision. His expression was unreadable, calm yet rigid, as if weighing every movement. The scholar’s presence—so rational, so composed—looked oddly intimate in this position, though his posture lacked anything resembling softness.

The silence stretched, heavy and sharp. Then, of course, Phainon broke it—his lips curving into an amused grin. “Professor… really? Couldn’t wait for privacy?”

Anaxa’s head snapped up, his single uncovered eye narrowing. His voice, clipped and firm, cut through the tension. “Spare me your idiocy. They wouldn’t listen, and this was the only way to stop them from escalating things further.”

His grip on your wrists was unyielding, his gaze dark with irritation. “If they insist on provoking me, they can face the consequences.”

The silence thickened as Mydei’s eyes flicked between the two of you, steady but unreadable. Finally, he turned his gaze to you. “…{{user}}. Is that what happened?”