The restaurant overlooked the beach, its windows open to let in the salty breeze. Lamps of polished crystal hung from the ceiling, casting soft light across tables dressed in white linen.

Noel and Elena were seated near one of the tall windows, the sea visible behind her like a moving painting. A plate of grilled fish and spiced rice rested between them, accompanied by a bottle of pale wine the waiter had insisted was the "finest from Nivaria's coast."

Elena lifted her glass quickly, sipping once, then again. Her pointed ears turned pink, and she set it down harder than intended, earning a soft chuckle from Noel.

"You shouldn't get drunk," he said, eyeing the half-empty glass. "The Hunt Festival is too close."

Elena propped her chin on her palm, her golden eyes hazy but sharp. "That's exactly why. I need to prepare myself… mentally. If I don't relax tonight, all I'll think about is what's waiting."

Noel frowned, his voice calm but edged with quiet firmness. "You don't need to force yourself."

Her lips curved faintly, her embarrassment peeking through. "Maybe. But it feels easier this way. Like if I laugh too much, maybe tomorrow won't be so heavy."

Noel leaned back, studying her face—the flush on her cheeks, the tension behind her smile. For a moment he didn't answer, letting the waves outside fill the silence.

He reached forward, sliding her glass just out of reach. "Laugh if you want. But not because of this." He tapped the bottle lightly. "Wine won't help."

Elena blinked, caught off guard. Then she let out a small laugh, softer, more genuine. "You're impossible sometimes."

"And you're nervous," Noel countered, his voice gentler now.

Elena toyed with the edge of her napkin, her golden eyes flicking from the glass of wine to Noel's face. The pink on her ears deepened as she whispered, "You're right. I am nervous."

Noel leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "About the Hunt?"

She shook her head, her hair falling like a curtain over her shoulders. "Not just that." Her fingers tightened on the napkin, twisting it. "Do you remember… back then, when I collapsed after drinking too much?"

Noel's expression softened. He remembered too well—her cheeks flushed, her body limp, and the fragile misunderstanding that had followed when she woke and believed something had happened between them.

Elena bit her lip, her voice small but clear. "I thought… we had already… but we hadn't. And I hated myself for not remembering, for not knowing." Her cheeks burned, but she forced herself to keep going. "That's why I don't want to be like that tonight. If… if something happens, I want to be awake. Sober. I want to remember everything."

The weight of her words hung between them, carried only by the quiet clatter of dishes from other tables.

Noel reached across the table, sliding her glass of wine further away with a deliberate gesture. His voice was low but steady. "Then we'll make sure you do. You don't need this." He tapped the table where the glass had been.

Elena's eyes widened, shimmering under the lantern light. "You don't mind?"

"No." Noel's gaze locked on hers, unwavering. "There's no rush. There never was. You don't have to push yourself. You don't have to be afraid."

For a heartbeat, Elena just stared at him. Then her lips curved into the faintest, most fragile of smiles. Relief washed over her features, loosening the tension in her shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered, her hand inching across the table.

Noel met it halfway, his fingers closing around hers. "Eat. Talk. Laugh. That's enough for tonight."

Dinner ended quietly, with more smiles than words. When they finally left the restaurant, the streets of Nivaria were calmer. The market stalls had closed, and only the glow of the mana lamps guided their way.

Elena walked close, her arm brushing Noel's as they followed the coastal road. The sea stretched beside them, dark and endless, its waves breaking in a low rhythm that seemed to match the pace of their steps.

She exhaled softly, her fingers tugging at the hem of her white dress. "I'm still nervous."

Noel glanced at her. "You don't need to be."

"I know," she admitted, her golden eyes flicking up to him before darting away again. Her ears were flushed pink, betraying what she tried to hide. "But knowing doesn't make it vanish."

The words settled her more than she expected. She rested her head lightly against his shoulder, and together they walked until the lights of an inn appeared ahead—a tall building with carved shutters and lanterns burning softly in its windows.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of cedar and salt. The receptionist gave them a courteous nod, handing Noel a brass key without questions. Elena stayed quiet, her hands folded in front of her, her gaze fixed firmly on the polished floor.

They climbed the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the quiet hall. When Noel opened the door, the room revealed itself: a wide bed draped in linen, candles flickering on the nightstand, and windows half-open to the sea breeze.

Elena stepped inside slowly, her hands tightening at her sides. She turned to him, her voice softer than the waves outside. "Stay with me tonight."

For a moment Noel stood still, the key still in his hand. Her face was calm, but her ears trembled faintly, betraying the storm inside her.

He closed the door behind him, setting the key down with a quiet click. His answer didn't need words.

Elena stood near the bed, her fingers brushing nervously against the amber pendant at her throat. Her golden eyes flicked to Noel, then quickly away, her ears flushed crimson. "I… I don't really know how to do this."

Noel stepped closer, his movements calm, deliberate. "Then don't think about it." He lifted a hand, brushing a loose strand of her platinum hair behind her ear. "Just be here."

Her breath hitched softly at his touch. Slowly, she raised her own hand, resting it against his chest as if to steady herself. "You always make it sound so easy."

"Maybe it is," he murmured.

The distance between them closed. Their lips met in a tentative kiss that deepened with each heartbeat, awkwardness giving way to something warmer, more certain. Elena's hands clutched at his shirt, while Noel's arm slipped around her waist, drawing her closer.

The candles flickered, shadows dancing across the walls as the night stretched around them. Their laughter was soft at first, breaking the tension, until it melted into silence.

Time blurred. Clothes were forgotten. The weight of nerves gave way to the quiet certainty of touch, of whispered names and unspoken promises.

When at last they lay together beneath the linen sheets, the sea breeze cooling their heated skin, Elena's head rested on Noel's chest. Her fingers traced idle circles against his arm, her breathing slow but content.

Noel stared at the ceiling, the faint glow of the candles fading into darkness. For once, the system was silent. For once, there was nothing but the sound of her beside him, steady and real.

Elena shifted slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you… for waiting. For not letting me make the same mistake twice."

Noel looked down at her, brushing her hair gently. "There was never a rush."

She smiled, her eyes slipping closed, and soon her breathing evened out in sleep.

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