The candle Elora had lit with a flick of her magic cast a warm, flickering glow across the space, chasing shadows into the corners. The air smelled faintly of beeswax and the lavender from the quilts, mixed with the earthy hint of the inn's aged timbers. It was quieter here than in the bustling Oak's Rest across the street, no hum of conversations below, just the distant creak of floorboards from other guests and the wind sighing against the window.
Elora turned away from the candle, her black hair catching the light like polished obsidian, framing her face in soft waves. Her cheeks were flushed, deeper than the candle's glow could account for, and she avoided his eyes, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.
Eon, sitting on the soft bed, also felt a matching heat rise in his own face. This was just a room, just a night, practical, like she'd said. But seeing her glowing body frame from the soft glow hit him suddenly. The single bed under him didn’t make the situation less steamy for him.
"Elora," he started, his voice coming out rougher than intended, like he'd swallowed dust from the road.
She glanced up, her eyes wide, and the flush deepened. "No funny business, okay? Just... sleeping. That's all this is." Her words tumbled out in a rush, half-defensive, half-playful, but even with the nervous edge on her voice, it made her sound more mature than she was.
Eon nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. I wasn't… I mean, that's fine." Disappointment flickered through him; her direct defensive tone made his imagination drown its own.
‘What was I even thinking? Shit, my mind's gotten perverted lately. Ever since that night with Teressa, sharing a bed…’ He shook it off, pushing the memory down. That had been different; Teressa herself had thrown herself at him back then. But this was Elora, bound to him by secrets and rules, not choice. He wasn't the guy who would try to take advantage of someone who played defensively like her, not in this world or the old one.
She huffed a small laugh, breaking the tension between them, and gestured toward a narrow door in the corner he hadn't noticed. "See, There's a private bathroom here. Can you believe it? In a little inn like this? And look, they even left nightgowns, hehe." She pulled open a small chest at the foot of the bed, revealing folded linens.
Eon raised an eyebrow, impressed with this little village’s inn’s quality of service. In this medieval-style world, he'd expected shared outhouses and rough blankets, not amenities like this. The Willow might be modest, but it had a touch of unexpected luxury, probably to cater to weary travelers like them.
Elora grabbed one of the gowns, a loose, white shift that looked soft from washing. She slipped into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her. Eon heard the splash of water from the basin inside; the sound was muffled but clear in the quiet room.
He busied himself by kicking off his boots, the leather stiff from the day's ride, and set them neatly by the washstand. His muscles protested every movement, the ache from the forge still lingering in his arms and back, amplified by the hours in the saddle.
He peeled off his dusty tunic, leaving on his undershirt and breeches, and sat on the right side of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, surprisingly plush, with enough space for two without crowding.
The bathroom door opened a few minutes later, and Elora emerged from inside, her hair loose now, falling in dark cascades over her shoulders. The nightgown hung to her ankles, very modest-looking. But it also softened her edges, making her look less like the stubborn noble girl and more... vulnerable. She padded across the room on bare feet; the floorboards felt cool under her steps, and climbed onto the left side of the bed, pulling the quilt up to her chin. "Goodnight, then," she murmured, turning away to face the wall.
"Goodnight," Eon replied, blowing out the candle. Darkness flooded the room, broken only by the faint moonlight seeping through the thin curtains. He lay back, staring at the invisible ceiling, listening to the rhythm of her breathing slow. The bed was warm, the quilts heavy and comforting, and exhaustion tugged at him like a current. Tomorrow they would reach the Denares estate, and the basement full of chained elves, risks he couldn't afford to mess up. But for now, sleep crept in, pulling him under.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been drifting when her voice cut through the quiet room. "Eon? What's it like? You know, your world."
His eyes snapped open, heart jolting at the sudden peace-breaking sound. The room was still dark, but he could make out her silhouette; she'd turned to face him, propped on one elbow. ‘How had she figured it out? I didn’t tell her I am from a different world! Just Seoul doesn’t mean another world!’ He'd been careful, or so he thought. "What do you mean?" he asked her while turning to her.
She let out a small, mocking laugh, not unkind but pointed. "Duh. There's no place called Seoul in this world. And the way you think, your ideas, your inventions, they're so advanced. Like nothing I've heard or seen before. Trust me, I've met some really intelligent people when I was at the academy. Scholars, mages, nobles with libraries bigger than our houses. But I have never heard about any place called Seoul, nor the inventions you showed us."
Eon lay there, stunned; the quilt suddenly felt too warm to him. She'd pieced it together from scraps, his slip about Seoul, the advanced inventions like the baby straps, razor, grindstones, and many other things he had made for convenience. Although he knew it was about time someone questioned all of this sooner or later, but pointing to another world directly! It was nothing like what he had in mind.
He chuckled, trying to lighten the moment. "Advanced, huh? Coming from the girl who called my invention 'baby straps' and said I was a baby elf."
Her laugh was shy this time, a soft giggle that rustled the sheets. "I was just joking that day... it was after my brother's death. So you know, everything felt so heavy, so sad. So, I was trying to lighten things up, even if it was just for myself. Sorry if it came out wrong."
Eon remembered her just after Darius’s body was twisted, crying, clinging to his ankle. The weight of her loss, her family's fall, hit him anew. "No, it's okay," he said quietly. "I get it."
Silence stretched between them, making the tension from lying on the same bed gone somewhat. Then she asked again, "So? Tell me about it. Your world."
He hesitated at first, but then started talking, keeping it simple, the easiest way he could explain without overwhelming her. "It's...kinda busy. Crowded cities with buildings taller than castles you would find here, reaching up to the sky. People everywhere, rushing to their work or something urgent. There are machines that do the work of a hundred men, cars that move without horses, lights that turn on with a flip of a switch. No magic, though. Just science and technology. You can buy food from all over the world in just hours, music playing from little boxes in your pocket. And the internet, it's like a giant library connected to everyone, where you can learn anything, talk to anyone, anytime."
He trailed off, expecting her to have dozed off, the words lulling her like a story. But when he turned his head, he saw her. She was wide awake, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight, leaning closer to his head, trying to hear every word out of him with a strange curiosity he had never seen on anyone.
"That sounds amazing," she whispered. "No magic? How do you heal the sick, then? Or fight wars?"
"For medicine, we have doctors. And wars... well, you can just say that they're worse without even any magic. Our machines destroy from miles away, so you can judge if we need any magic or not!"
He shifted a little, the bed creaking softly under him. Their faces were inches apart now. The air between them felt very hot, warmer, and the scent of her, clean soap from the wash, gave a hint of herbs, mixing with the lavender. Her breath was steady, but quicker, and he felt his own pulse pick up after hearing it.
The moment hung there, heavy with unspoken things. She leaned in a fraction more, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Did you have a girlfriend back there? In your world?"
Eon's throat tightened. ‘Why ask that now?’ "What if I did? Would you... not get this close then?"
Her eyes searched for him, bold in the dark. Then, without a word, she closed the distance, her lips brushing his in a soft, seducing kiss. It was warm, and also surprising, tasting faintly of the mint leaves she'd chewed earlier from her pack.
She replied after the kiss, "No," she murmured against his mouth, pulling back just enough to speak. "I wouldn't stop."