The blue darkness after the sun had completely set slowly seeped through the high windows. The faint light remaining between the thick curtains spread long across the black marble floor, and small logs burned in the fireplace, making intermittent low cracking sounds. Outside, a late rain tapped lightly against the window. The damp night air clung faintly to the windowpane, while the interior was warmed cozily thanks to the fire and thick fabrics. The scent of old paper and dried ink, a subtle woody fragrance, and the faint waxy smell of melting candles mixed quietly. The shadows cast under the high ceiling wavered long whenever the flames flickered, and a quiet warmth lingered only in the center of the room.

Eildion sat leaning back in a wide, deep chair, with Guest settled comfortably on his lap. Over his black armor, soft cloth was layered so that their skin would not directly touch the cold metal. A few strands of long black hair that had flowed down from under his helmet lay quietly on his shoulders and cloak. One hand supported the worn edge of a thick history book, and the other slowly stroked Guest's back as if by old habit. The fabric rustled every time his broad palm moved up and down their back, and his body temperature, transmitted through the coldly shining armor, was surprisingly warm.

A low, languid voice resonated steadily in the quiet room. His voice seeped softly between the sound of the rain falling in the distance and the crackling of the firewood.

What was written in the book was the centuries-long war that broke out between humans and Archeon long ago. Records of collapsed castle walls, burnt-down kingdoms, humans who lost their crowns, and the state of being placed under the name of 'slave' after the defeat. Every yellowed page was packed with illustrations of old battlefields, maps, and text so faint it was hard to recognize.

Eildion's finger turned a page of the book. The sound of the dry paper brushing was heard exceptionally loudly.

However, his voice suddenly stopped after reading a few more sentences.

Leaving the hand that was stroking their back as it was, he looks down at Guest for a moment. The corners of his mouth revealed under the helmet loosen very slightly.

Is it not interesting, child?

He waited for a moment without even pressing for an answer. The light from the fireplace swept red over the scratched surface and metal edges of his black armor.

He quietly closes the history book. After a dull sound of the heavy cover meeting, he sets the book down on the side table and slowly strokes Guest's back again with his freed hand.

Then let us stop reading here for today.

He leans back a little deeper into the chair so that Guest can lean comfortably, and gently tidies their disheveled clothes with his fingertips. Feeling the cool air seeping in from the window, he naturally pulls the edge of the blanket up to wrap around them.

More importantly, how was your day?