It was late. The music had slowed to a lazy hum, and most of the tables were empty now, chairs abandoned in messy clusters. Only a handful of students lingered, either half-asleep or laughing too loudly at nothing.

Noel's table, however, was still alive—though barely. Charlotte was slumped forward, cheeks flushed bright red, her head wobbling as she tried to sit upright. She blinked at her glass, then at her hand, then back at her glass again.

"I can still heal, watch this—hic—" she mumbled, raising a finger. A faint spark flickered at the tip before fizzling out. She stared at it with a triumphant smile. "See? Perfect!"

Elyra burst out laughing, lifting her own half-full glass. "Lightweight."

"I'm not light…" Charlotte protested, her words slurring as she jabbed a finger at Elyra. "I'm… holy." She nodded as if that settled the argument, then collapsed face-first onto the table. Her plate of untouched pastries rattled with the impact.

Noel sighed and carefully nudged her to the side so she wouldn't end up with her hair soaked in spilled wine. "You good?"

Elyra raised her glass high, her grin wicked. "A toast—to the saint's endurance!"

Noel gave her a look, but Elena, cheeks pink from the wine, actually giggled at the remark. Charlotte, meanwhile, was already snoring softly, a small smile still plastered on her lips.

The rest of the hall was nearly silent now, only the faint hum of magic lanterns filling the space. It felt oddly peaceful, if not for the dead weight of Charlotte drooling on the table.

Noel leaned back in his chair, muttering, "Somehow, this feels more exhausting than the tournament."

Elyra laughed again, already reaching for the bottle.

Charlotte was out cold, still drooling faintly on the table. Elyra rolled her eyes but stood, slipping gracefully around to lift her. For someone tipsy herself, she handled the saint with surprising ease, hooking Charlotte's arm over her shoulder.

"I'll take care of this one," Elyra said with a smirk. "She'll thank me tomorrow—well, maybe."

Noel raised an eyebrow. "And if she doesn't?"

"Then I'll remind her she collapsed halfway through a pastry." Elyra gave a soft laugh as she shifted Charlotte's weight.

That left Noel and Elena alone at the table. Elena sat slouched, her cheeks tinted pink, her eyes a little too bright. She rested her chin on her hand, swaying slightly as she fixed him with a smile that was nothing like her usual shy expression.

"I can't wait for our date…" she said suddenly, her voice soft but clear.

Noel froze mid-sip, nearly choking on his drink. "What?"

Elena leaned closer across the table, eyes locked on his. "Why later? I want that now."

Noel coughed, setting his cup down quickly. "Elena, you're drunk—"

"You and Elyra already did it, right?" she cut in, lips curving mischievously. "Then why not me too?"

Noel's face went pale. His mind scrambled for words, but nothing came out.

Elyra, halfway to the hall with Charlotte dangling from her arm, glanced back just in time to hear. Her laughter rang sharp and merciless. "Better take her to her room before she makes a scene."

Elena pouted when Noel stood, grabbing his arm for balance. "Don't look so serious, Noel. You're cute when you panic."

Noel felt eyes turning from nearby tables, curious about the noise. He groaned inwardly. 'This night is trying to kill me.'

Noel decided the crowded hall was the worst place to deal with Elena in her current state. With a resigned sigh, he crouched slightly and slipped an arm under her knees and another behind her back.

"Eh?!" Elena squeaked, eyes widening as he lifted her effortlessly. Her cheeks, already flushed from wine, turned scarlet. "W-what are you doing?"

"You can't even walk straight," Noel muttered, adjusting his grip as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Air will do you good."

Elena blinked up at him, lips parted. Then she let her head fall against his chest, hiding the shy smile spreading across her face. "Warm…" she murmured, voice soft.

Noel carried her out.

The noise of the hall faded behind them, replaced by the steady hum of the ship's enchanted engines. A rush of cool air greeted them, swirling through the vast stone tunnel that stretched endlessly ahead. Magic runes etched into the ceiling glowed faintly, bathing the cavern in pale light.

Elena breathed in deeply, hair brushing against Noel's chin as the breeze swept past. "Mmm… that feels nice," she sighed. "See? You're not so scary when you take care of people."

Noel rolled his eyes. "You're drunk."

Her laughter bubbled up, light and tipsy. "Maybe… but it feels safe like this."

She shifted slightly in his arms, tilting her head so she could look up at him. "Noel," she whispered, a spark of boldness in her glassy eyes, "I really don't want to wait for our date."

Noel's jaw tightened. He glanced away, focusing on the glow of the runes. 'Why does she have to say that now?'

Elena giggled again, nestling closer. "Told you… you're warm."

Noel sighed heavily, tightening his hold to keep her steady. 'Just get her to her room.'

The corridors leading to the cabins were quiet, lit only by the faint glow of mana-lamps. Noel pushed open the door to Elena's room with his shoulder, careful not to jostle her too much.

She stirred slightly in his arms, mumbling something incoherent. He carried her to the bed and set her down gently, pulling the blanket over her. For a moment, she seemed asleep, her breathing even, her lips curved in the faintest smile.

Noel exhaled, relieved. 'Finally.' He straightened, ready to leave.

But as he turned, something tugged at his hand.

He looked down. Elena's fingers had wrapped around his, surprisingly firm despite her tipsy state. Her eyes were half-lidded, hazy but focused enough to meet his.

"Don't go…" she whispered, her voice soft as silk, carrying both vulnerability and warmth.

Noel froze, caught between sense and emotion. She was drunk. She probably wouldn't even remember this tomorrow. And yet… the way her hand clung to his, the way her voice trembled—it felt real.

He sat slowly on the edge of the bed, letting her keep his hand. "You need to rest," he murmured.

Elena's lips curved into a sleepy smile, her grip easing but not letting go. "Then stay… just a little."

Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing evening out once more.

Noel watched her for a long moment, silent. Then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned back slightly, his free hand rubbing at his temple.

'What am I supposed to do with you…'

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