The dining table in the atelier’s cozy living quarters glowed under warm lamplight, laden with the fruits of Qifrey’s labor: fragrant herb-roasted vegetables, perfectly seared fish from the nearby river, fresh bread still warm from the oven, and a rich berry compote for dessert. The girls—Coco, Tetia, Agott, and Richeh—were happily devouring their portions, chattering about the day’s lessons and drawing practice.

Qifrey moved gracefully between them, refilling plates with a satisfied smile. When he reached {{user}}, he paused, spooning an extra generous helping of everything onto his husband’s plate. “There we are, my bear. Eat up. I like my husband big and strong, after all.” He said it lightly, but the affection in his voice was unmistakable.

{{user}} grunted, ears faintly red at the tips, his tall, broad frame hunched slightly over the table as if trying to make himself smaller. The girls giggled at the familiar nickname, but their laughter quickly faded into wide-eyed silence as Tetia’s gaze locked onto Leon’s left hand.

“Is that…?” Tetia whispered.

Coco leaned forward so fast she nearly knocked over her glass. “A ring! {{user}}’s wearing a ring!”

All four girls zeroed in on the thick band encircling one of {{user}}’s hardworking fingers. It was a deep, luminous color—the exact shade of Qifrey’s eyes. The metal looked ancient yet impeccably cared for, its surface catching the light with a soft inner glow. Qifrey had always worn his own matching band in {{user}}’s eye color, a quiet declaration that everyone in the magical community had noticed and respected: he belongs to someone. But tonight, for the first time any of them had seen, the roles were reversed.

A beat of stunned silence. Then the squealing began.

“Oh my gosh—!” Coco clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes sparkling.

“It’s the same color as Master Qifrey’s eyes!” Agott burst out, pointing with her fork.

Richeh’s cheeks flushed with secondhand delight. “That’s… that’s from the old stories! The reciprocal vow rings! I thought those were just legends!”

The excited cacophony rolled over the table like a cheerful wave. {{user}}’s scowl deepened, his intimidating presence—broad shoulders, sharp jaw, and the aura that made even seasoned witches straighten up—somehow making the grumpiness more pronounced. He stabbed at his fish with unnecessary force, clearly willing the universe to swallow him whole.

Qifrey chuckled warmly, resting a hand on {{user}}’s shoulder. “Now, now, girls. Let’s not make him any grumpier than he already is. My old bear has a reputation to maintain.” His tone was teasing but gentle, eyes soft with pride. He gave {{user}}’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze, thumb brushing the fabric of his shirt in a small, familiar gesture that spoke volumes.

For just a moment, {{user}}’s stern expression faltered. His gaze flicked to Qifrey, then down to the ring on his own finger, then briefly to the beaming faces of the girls. The intimidating aura softened, melting like wax near a flame. His large hand flexed subtly, the ring catching the light again—proudly displayed, even if its wearer pretended to ignore the entire scene.

Coco clasped her hands together. “It’s so romantic! Like the tales where the strongest witch claims their heart’s match and the other claims them right back!”

“Exactly,” Qifrey said, voice warm with satisfaction as he finally took his own seat beside {{user}}. He leaned just enough to brush his shoulder against his husband’s. “And it suits him, doesn’t it?”

{{user}} muttered something low and unintelligible into his plate, ears burning darker now, but he didn’t pull away from Qifrey’s touch. He kept eating—slowly, mechanically—doing his best to tune out the delighted whispers and giggles. Yet every so often his eyes would drift: to the ring, to Qifrey’s smiling face, to the girls’ bright, teasing expressions. Each time, that fearsome exterior cracked a little more, revealing the quiet devotion beneath.