His Devious Harbinger: How To Tame A Wicked God?

"I want to see them light up with…"

Silence. 

"Light up with what?" She asks, slapping his back. "You are heavy, you know?"

Sound of snoring enters her ear.

"Royal arse!" She pushes him off her and glowers at him. "Damn you! I am letting you live because you saved my life yesterday night." 

Aren wraps his arm around her waist and holds her closer to his chest, brushing his nose in her hair until he's satisfied, and then, he puts his leg over her. "Mhmm."

"Should I kill you?" She asks him in a dead tone. 

"Mhmm." He moans in his sleep.

It seems killing has to wait. Kresi releases a heavy sigh. What a royal arse! At first, he calls them small, and then, he wants to test if they fit in his palms.

"Perverted royal arse!"

He might be comfortable, but she's not. Kresi draws a rune on his back with her finger. Suddenly his body becomes light. She slips out of his arms and pushes him to the middle of the bed. After covering him with the blanket, she climbs off. The vials are on the floor, but they are still intact.

"Doesn't know how to make potions at all." She picks them up and walks to the wardrobe. "If I drink this, I might dance in the castle naked."

The herbs are effective for reducing the pain but they have some side effects. This royal flower must have spent all night on the medicine. 

"I would have told him how to make them if he had only asked." Kresi changes her robe and turns around to look at the man who is dead asleep on the bed. "His heart is too soft."

And she shrugs when his words haunt her mind. Lively smiling golden eyes? She's not so sure about that.

It's time to deal with the rebels who sent that assailant. 

***

Aren awakens to the night. He gets the glimpse of Raya through the window. Kresi must have opened the border.

As he gets up, he realizes that something isn't right with the room. Why does it look so bland?

He turns his head around and realizes why. This is not his room and he's certainly not sleeping on his bed.

"What happened here?" He rubs his forehead. "Did I come to her room in my sleep? But I have never sleepwalked before."

And where is she? Why are his limbs still intact? Did he climb her bed when she was still here?

"Haha…" He laughs nervously. "That's impossible. She would have kicked me out."

But where is she anyway? He fixes the bed, trying to remove any trace of his presence. Then, he walks out. "Maybe she wasn't in her room when I got here. That explains why I am still alive."

He hasn't forgotten her warning. There's no way that she would let him sleep on her bed. As he makes his way to the throne room where she's usually dwelling, he comes up with a number of scenarios how he could have ended up on her bed when she wasn't there. 

When he enters the throne room, he hears Mogrok arguing with Kresi about something. It seems that they are arguing about the rebels again. Kresi is sitting on the steps below the throne. Her robe is torn here and there. There's a large cut on her cheek and patches of blood on her robe. Her eyes are dull, bored out of her mind as she props her chin with her hand and listens to Mogrok's nagging.

"You could have died!" Mogrok roars. "You got stabbed a night ago."

"What happened here?" Aren rushes to her when he notices the blood and wounds. "How did you get hurt again?"

"You are awake finally." Mogrok squints his eyes on Aren. "You were gone for five days."

"What?" Aren widens his eyes, shocked. "How could I sleep for five days?"

"She challenged the rebels around five days ago, and fought them for the last five days without rest in the ring," Mogrok informs Aren, "All of them lost to her."

"Have you lost your mind?" Aren grabs her chin and turns her right cheek toward her. The gash is deep. "What if it leaves a scar?"

"It's fine with me." She slaps his hand away, shrugging her shoulders. "Since you are awake, I will go to my room and change. Mogrok will brief you with other issues. Handle them."

Mogrok exhales. "I am so exhausted. When will my lord come back? This is a disaster. I miss the old days when I could only eat and sleep."

The former prince ignores the wailing spirit beast and runs after Kresi. He grabs her elbow and turns her around to face him. "Did you give me sleeping herbs?"

"Where would I get them?" She frowns. "You showed up in my room with the vials of sleeping herbs. Don't put your crimes on me."

"Crimes?" He stares at her. "How many hours has it been since you dealt with the rebels?"

"Six or seven maybe." She yawns. "You can question the rebels and find out who sent the assailants, can't you? I would like some sleep now."

"No, your wounds need washing." He tells her scornfully, "Or they will get infected. That cut on your cheek will leave an ugly scar."

"I don't mind being ugly." She pushes him away. "Keep a distance from me. Don't touch me anytime as you please."

"This brat!" Aren puts his hands on his hips. "Do you think that I have other interests in you? I can see you naked and feel nothing. Hold on! I have seen you nearly naked and felt nothing."

But he was too focused on saving her. Aren looks away when her penetrating gaze falls on him. "I didn't see much."

"You have seen my upper half." She replies, "I have seen your lower half. We are equal now."

Equal? Aren gawks at her back as she strides away. How could the upper half be equal to the lower half? 

"Tsk!" It's not like he wants to see her lower half. Aren trails after her. He won't leave her alone unless he casts a healing spell. Besides, it would be a waste of a beautiful face if the scar remains.