Chapter 185: Chapter : 185 : I Missed You!

They appeared beside the desk without sound.

No ripple. No flash. Just presence.

Both dropped to one knee the instant reality settled, heads lowered, eyes fixed on the polished black stone floor.

Alethea Albinos sat behind her desk, fingers laced, chin resting lightly on her knuckles. She did not look surprised. She rarely did.

Eryndor spoke first.

“Your Majesty.”

Sylen remained silent, posture perfect, blindfold still in place.

Alethea exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

“Stand up, both of you,” She said. “You’re going to ruin my floor with all that kneeling.”

They rose immediately, still not meeting her gaze.

“It’s good to see you,” Alethea continued, tone warm but sharp underneath. “Both of you.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty,” Eryndor said.

Alethea waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t flatter me. I called you here because I wanted answers.”

Her eyes shifted—direct, piercing—straight to Sylen.

“Lord Kaemir Thorne,” She said. “Gone. Confirmed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Eryndor replied. “Sylen completed the assignment personally.”

Alethea leaned back in her chair. “Tell me.”

Eryndor did not sugarcoat it.

“Forty guards eliminated. No witnesses escaped. The target was executed in his estate.”

Alethea nodded slowly. “Clean.”

“Not entirely,” Eryndor said. “His family entered the room during the execution.”

The air tightened.

“Ah,” Alethea said. “That part.”

Sylen stiffened, just a little.

“They saw her,” Eryndor continued. “They would have spoken. She removed them.”

Silence followed. Heavy, deliberate silence.

Alethea did not react immediately. She stared at the desk, fingers tapping once, twice.

“Wife?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Children?”

“Twins probably.”

Alethea sighed, long and tired, like someone who had heard this kind of story far too many times.

She looked up at Sylen.

“Don’t dwell on it,” She said plainly.

Sylen blinked beneath the blindfold.

“Your Majesty?”

“You did your job,” Alethea said. “You didn’t create the situation. You ended it.”

Sylen hesitated—then nodded.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Alethea’s gaze softened just a fraction.

“Good. Because if you start carrying ghosts, you slow down. And I don’t need slow assassins.”

Eryndor inclined his head. “She followed orders perfectly.”

“I know,” Alethea said. “That’s why you’re both still breathing.”

She straightened, business returning to her voice.

“Now. New work.”

Both of them focused instantly.

“This one’s messier,” Alethea said. “Border city. Port-side. Smuggling ring tied to three noble houses and one very stupid cult.”

Eryndor raised an eyebrow. “Stupid how?”

“Summoning things they can’t control,” Alethea said flatly. “The usual.”

She tapped the desk, and a projection flared to life—maps, faces, routes.

“I want the ring gone. Not disrupted. Gone. Leaders dead. Records burned. Survivors scattered so badly they can’t even remember who they were working for.”

Sylen spoke. “Timeframe?”

“Two weeks,” Alethea replied. “Quiet first week. Loud second if needed.”

“And the cult?” Eryndor asked.

“Erase them,” Alethea said. “Every last robe-wearing idiot.”

Sylen nodded. “Understood.”

Alethea’s lips twitched. “You don’t even flinch anymore.”

“I flinch later,” Sylen replied calmly.

Alethea chuckled. “Fair.”

She leaned forward again.

“One more thing,” She said. “Your sister.”

Sylen’s head lifted slightly.

“Merek is currently training with her general,” Alethea continued. “She’s alive. Loud. Still reckless.”

Eryndor snorted quietly.

“You can go see her if you want,” Alethea said. “Before you leave. Or after. Your call.”

Sylen turned her head slightly toward Eryndor.

“May I?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She faced the queen again.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Alethea waved them off. “Don’t thank me yet. Survive first.”

Eryndor stepped back, one hand already tracing the sigil.

“Until next report,” He said.

The space folded.

And they were gone.

—

Eryndor left. Sylen stopped atop a roof on the palace training ground.

She heard footsteps. She felt it.

That familiar pressure in the air. That careless rhythm. That presence that was loud without sound.

Her lips curved faintly.

“…Found you,” she murmured.

Far below, on the ground, Merek Silia was mid-strike. Her fist slammed into the padded dummy’s chest, then her knee followed, sharp and brutal. Sweat clung to her skin.

She stands facing forward with a calm, dangerous poise, her presence balanced between elegance and lethal intent.

Her short silver-white hair is asymmetrical—one side shaved close, the other falling in a soft sweep that frames her face.

A black, ornate eye-mask covers her eyes; a hole on the right eye side, for her see. The other side is as it is, as her left eye is blind.

Her outfit is a fitted, dark teal leather ensemble, tailored tightly to her body. The material clings smoothly to her torso, emphasizing a full, heavy bust pushed together by the cut of the garment, creating a deep, glossy cleavage that draws the eye immediately.

The leather stretches naturally over her chest, suggesting weight and softness beneath the firm structure of the clothing.

Her waist narrows before flaring into wide, rounded hips, the curve pronounced and powerful.

The lower half of her outfit hugs her hips and thighs, reinforcing a strong, grounded stance—sensual, but built for movement rather than display alone.

She wears fingerless gloves. A matching dagger is strapped securely to her thigh, bound by leather harnesses that wrap around her leg with deliberate precision.

Small metallic ornaments and clasps decorate her outfit, adding subtle weight and sound to her movements.

Bell earrings on her ears.

She froze.

Her good eye narrowed.

“…That feeling,” Merek muttered. “No way.”

The next second—

She vanished from the rooftop.

And reappeared right in front of Sylen.

“SY-CHAAAN!”

The shout echoed.

Sylen barely had time to brace before Merek crashed into her, arms wrapping around her tightly, face smashing straight into Sylen’s chest without hesitation.

“I MISSED YOU SO MUCH—!”

“—Merek,” Sylen choked. “You’re… crushing… me.”

Merek laughed loudly, completely ignoring her. “Nope. Too late. Hug attack.”

Sylen’s hands hovered awkwardly before settling on Merek’s shoulders. Her face remained calm, expression controlled—but the faint tension in her voice betrayed her.

“…You are suffocating me.”

“Oh. Right.”

Merek pulled back just enough to let Sylen breathe, then grinned up at her. “Wow. Still cold. Still scary. Still my Sy-chan.”

Sylen turned her head slightly. “You’re loud.”

“You love it.”

“…I tolerate it.”

Merek snorted. “Liar.”

She dropped down onto the stone and tugged Sylen with her without warning. Sylen ended up seated on Merek’s lap, stiff as a board.

“Merek,” Sylen said flatly.

“What? You always sit here.”

“That is because you force me.”

“Details.”

Merek wrapped an arm around her waist anyway. “So. Talk. How’s work? Still stabbing important people?”

“…Yes.”

“Cool. Cool. Any explosions?”

“No.”

“Lame.”

Sylen tilted her head slightly toward her. “You’re injured.”

Merek blinked. “Huh?”

“Your left knuckle. Bruised.”

Merek looked down, then laughed. “Damn. You can’t even see and you still call me out.”

Silence settled for a moment.

Then Merek softened her voice. “So. Eryndor. Still scary?”

Sylen paused. “…Master is kind.”

Merek stared at her. “Wow. That’s not what I expected.”

“He corrects me when I fail,” Sylen continued. “And… listens.”

Merek hummed. “That’s huge praise coming from you.”

Sylen nodded once. “…My job is still the same.”

Merek tilted her head. “But?”

Sylen went quiet.

Merek noticed immediately.

“…Sy-chan.”

No answer.

Merek’s arm tightened around her. “Hey. What happened.”

Sylen exhaled slowly. “Previous assignment.”

Merek’s tone shifted, lighter gone. “Bad?”

“…Yes.”

“Talk to me.”

Sylen hesitated. Then spoke.

“They saw me.”

Merek’s jaw clenched.

“Family?”

Sylen nodded.

Merek didn’t interrupt. Didn’t joke.

“They were not targets,” Sylen said. “But they became… necessary.”

Her voice didn’t break. But it was thinner.

“I completed the mission.”

Silence.

Then Merek pulled her in hard, crushing hug number two, no restraint this time.

“It’s okay,” Merek said immediately. “It’s okay. You hear me?”

Sylen stiffened, then slowly relaxed into her.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Merek continued. “You did what you had to. Anyone says otherwise, I’ll punch them.”

Sylen’s fingers curled into Merek’s sleeve.

“…You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

Sylen rested her forehead against Merek’s shoulder.

“I did not feel anything during it,” She said quietly. “But afterward… it lingered.”

Merek kissed the top of her head without thinking. “Yeah. That happens. Doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

“…You are reckless,” Sylen said.

“And you love me.”

“…Yes.”

Merek smiled softly. “See? Still human.”

They stayed like that for a while.

Then Merek laughed again. “Wow. Queen lets you visit and you immediately trauma-dump on me.”

Sylen straightened slightly. “…You asked.”

“And I’ll keep asking.”

Merek poked her cheek. “You’re not alone, Sy-chan. Ever. Got it?”

Sylen nodded.

“…Thank you.”

Merek grinned wide. “Anytime. Now sit still. I’m not done hugging you.”

“…I feared as much.”

Then, inevitably—

“So,” Merek said, tone far too casual to be innocent. “We should have some girl talk.”

Sylen blinked once. “…Huh?”

Merek grinned, the curve of her lips sharp with mischief. “You know. Girl talk. Maybe you like someone. Or something.”

Sylen answered instantly. “Not interested.”

“Wow. No hesitation at all,” Merek said, clicking her tongue. “Come on. Not even a little? Not one tiny crush?”

“No.”

Merek leaned forward, peering at her from the side. “You didn’t even think about it.”

“There is nothing to think about.”

“Sy-chan,” Merek whined, voice suddenly high and teasing, “you’re answering like an old lady. Loosen up.”

“…You are nagging.”

“Because you’re boring.”

“I am efficient.”

Merek snorted. “That’s not a personality.”

Sylen turned her head slightly, clearly done with the topic. Merek noticed immediately—and, of course, changed tactics.

“Oh. Right,” Merek said suddenly. “By the way.”

Sylen’s brow lifted a fraction. “What.”

“Serica and Vaara got married.”

Silence.

Sylen turned fully toward her. “What?”

Merek smirked. “Yep.”

“That is impossible,” Sylen said flatly. “You’re lying.”

Merek gasped in mock offense. “Wow. Do I ever lie to you?”

“…Frequently,” She said.

Merek laughed. “Okay, fair. But not about this.”

Sylen frowned. “With whom.”

Merek leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a forbidden secret. “One man.”

Sylen froze. “…Huh?”

“How can a single man,” Sylen continued slowly, disbelief seeping into her voice, “control those two walking catastrophes?”

Merek’s grin widened. “Oh, it’s not just some man.”

Sylen waited.

“It’s the Child of Prophecy.”

That name landed like a stone dropped into still water.

Sylen went quiet.

Merek felt the shift immediately. “…Hey.”

Sylen didn’t answer.

Merek sighed softly. “Okay. New topic.”

Sylen blinked once. “Like what.”

Merek’s hand slid to Sylen’s waist, fingers warm and familiar. She squeezed lightly, thumb tracing upward in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Like body growth,” Merek said cheerfully.

Sylen stiffened for exactly half a second.

Then she sighed. “Onee-Chan,” She said, voice flat but not sharp, “you’re such a pervert.”

Merek laughed. “Can you blame me? I don’t get to see you growing. So I just use whatever time I get with you.”

Sylen didn’t pull away.

She didn’t flinch.

She merely tilted her head slightly. “…That logic is flawed.”

“Yeah, but it works.”

Merek’s hands moved without hesitation, familiar and unashamed, cupping Sylen’s boobs through the dark leather. She hummed thoughtfully. “Mmm. Yep. You’ve grown.”

Sylen remained still. “Have I.”

“Oh yeah,” Merek said. “Last time I saw you, you were flat as a board.”

Sylen exhaled slowly. Then, deliberately, she leaned forward and rested her head against Merek’s boobs, cheek pressing into the soft weight there.

“You haven’t changed either,” Sylen said calmly. “Still a pillow.”

Merek burst out laughing. “Wow. Straight for the kill.”

“You started it.”

Merek’s hands didn’t stop moving. “Don’t you feel even a little shy? I’m groping you, you know.”

“No.”

Merek paused. “…No?”

“No.”

“…Wow.”

Merek grinned. “So you’re shameless now?”

Sylen lifted her head slightly, “Huh? You’re shameless. Not me.”

Merek laughed again, loud and unrestrained, hands still very much occupied. “You’re really trying to copy me, aren’t you?”

Sylen blinked. “Copy what.”

“The shaved side,” Merek said, tapping her own head. “The blindfold. The small bell.”

Sylen looked away.

“…Maybe,” She admitted quietly.

Merek’s grin softened instantly.

She pulled Sylen into a tight hug, arms wrapping around her with unrestrained affection. She pressed a kiss to Sylen’s cheek, warm and lingering. “I love you.”

Sylen relaxed completely, her body yielding into the embrace. She held her arm, relaxing against her.

“I love you too,” She said softly. “Onee-Chan.”

—

ENS OF Chapter : 185 : I MISSED YOU!

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