Chapter 52: Intimate Time with Ysmeine

"One of the rumors," Arya said in a conspiratory whisper, "is that Zaeryn kissed the Chief Scientist. In the cafeteria."

Mireille’s eyes widened. "The Chief Scientist? Daphne? That can’t be true. The woman was practically leading the argument against his freedom. I don’t think she’d be... getting entangled with him in the middle of lunch."

"That’s what I thought too," Arya continued, relishing the insider information. "But it’s not just idle gossip. Multiple people claim they witnessed it. Guards, kitchen staff, even some of the researchers. There is also another thing, I heard."

Mireille gave Arya a look. How did she always know all the gossip? Nonetheless, she nodded for Arya to continue.

"Word is, the Council’s completely divided over him now. Apparently Zia and Commander Thorne stormed out during a heated debate over what to do with him, with High Commander Lysara, Annalise, Daphne, and Lady Valerius."

Mireille’s expression sharpened. "If that’s accurate, we’re dealing with a major split in leadership. That level of disagreement among the upper echelons... it’s uncommon."

"Precisely." Arya rose and moved to the closet, searching for something suitable. When her search proved fruitless, she closed the doors with a snap. "I’m going to have to ask his sister for some spare clothes."

A smirk played on Mireille’s lips. "Sister? Are we still pretending that’s what they are? Because from where I’m sitting, those two look more like lovers than siblings."

"Well, he is male," Arya said with a shrug. "And given the circumstances of this world, such arrangements aren’t unusual. Families that have one tend to keep them locked up tighter than vault gold. They don’t share—ever. Why do you think you hardly see men outside of noble houses? They get hoarded like family heirlooms." She giggled.

Her eyes lit with mischief. "But speaking of romantic entanglements... tell me, do you think his girlfriend was putting on a performance during their... intimate moments?"

Mireille rolled her eyes. "Still fixated on that, are we? I should have known you wouldn’t let it go."

"Can you blame me for being curious? It’s genuinely unusual for a male’s partner to be so... vocal about their pleasure. And it didn’t sound like she was acting either. My college roommate had a boyfriend, and let me tell you, the experience was far from satisfying for her. In fact, I regularly overheard her complaining about the complete lack of fulfillment after sex."

"That doesn’t mean Zaeryn is like that though. And maybe your roommate’s boyfriend was just incompetent," Mireille suggested dismissively.

Arya’s grin turned wicked. "Or maybe Zaeryn’s girlfriend was being diplomatically kind. You know how it is—fake enthusiasm so his fragile ego doesn’t shatter completely."

"Are you saying he has a fragile ego?"

"I think he does." Arya responded.

"That’s probably closer to the truth," Mireille agreed, her tone clinical. "I know several women with male partners, and the consensus is pretty universal—the physical experience is mediocre at best. So I’m inclined to believe Zaeryn’s girlfriend was delivering an award worthy performance. There’s simply no way he could provide that level of genuine satisfaction."

"Especially considering how the M-degradation affects their... equipment," Arya added delicately, then her expression shifted to wild speculation. "Although... what if he’s exceptionally well-endowed?"

Mireille actually snorted, though the thought betrayed her for a heartbeat. She pictured him without clothes—then shoved the image away. "Impossible. Even if we’re being generous, the largest recorded male anatomy is hardly worth bragging about. And I highly doubt our mysterious anomaly is anywhere near breaking records."

"Perhaps not," Arya conceded, though her tone suggested she wasn’t convinced. She headed toward the door. "I suppose I should track down Aeris and see about those clothes."

As she reached for the handle, Mireille called after her with amusement, "Do interrogate her about whether he’s... above statistical average."

Arya paused, throwing a playful look over her shoulder. "No promises."

She slipped out, leaving Mireille to her social media scrolling.

Meanwhile, inside Ysmeines private sanctuary.

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the room casting dancing shadows on the walls as steam rose in delicate tendrils from the sunken bathtub.

Ysmeine reclined in all her bare glory, the warm water lapping gently against her skin, a serene contrast to the storm brewing inside her. She was worried about Zaeryn, he seemed to be going through a weird change lately, and it was a worrying kind.

She closed her eyes. Her beautifully stunning facial features look even more irresistible.

Her athletic yet curvaceous form was a vision of natural elegance. Her full, rounded breasts rose just above the waterline, their gentle swell glistening with droplets that caught the light like tiny jewels.

Her waist tapered into hips that curved gracefully, the water caressing her smooth, pale and flawless skin, accentuating every contour with a sensual sheen. Long, dark hair cascaded over the edge of the tub, damp tendrils clinging to her shoulders and framing her face, where her smoky green eyes were half-lidded in quiet contemplation.

Her fingers trailed lazily through the water, tracing circles. The thought of Zaeryn—her charge, her responsibility—being taken away from her, sent a shiver through her, though the heat of the bath kept her grounded.

Lyra, her artificial intelligence, announced, "Ysmeine, Zaeryn is here. He requests to be let in."

Ysmeine shifted slightly, the movement causing the water to ripple and reveal more of her toned thighs, the strength beneath their softness evident. "Don’t make him wait. Let him in."

"Do I tell him you’re bathing and wait for you, or should I just let him come in?"

Not caring how exposed she was—or whether he would see her without clothes—Ysmeine replied, "Tell him to find me here."

Outside. When the door slid open, Zaeryn stepped inside. He quickly scanned the room, glancing toward the bed and the lounge chairs, expecting to see her seated there—but she was nowhere to be found.

"Ysmeine is in the bathtub, Zaeryn. You can go in."

Zaeryn stepped toward the door leading to the shower and tub. As it opened, the warm scent of jasmine and the rising steam greeted him. Candlelight flickered across the room, casting Ysmeine in shades of gold and shadow. Her pale, flawless skin glistened where it caught the light, half-submerged in the bath, every ripple clinging to her like silk.

She turned her head as he entered, and when she smiled at him, it was soft, effortless... almost disarming.

"Hey, Ysmeine. Lyra told me to come in."

"Yes, I’m quite comfortable here," she replied, her tone casual but inviting. "I wasn’t planning on getting out anytime soon dear."

"Yeah, I understand," he said, trying to focus, though the warmth of the room and her presence made it a little harder.

Ysmeine smiled, watching him quietly for a moment. Her mind wandered—not just to the bath, but to him. She was in awe of how much he had grown, both in height and presence, in such a short span of time. Handsome, tall, capable... he was no longer just the boy she’d been watching over.

"... How are you feeling, my darling? They didn’t push you too hard during the tests, did they?" she asked, turning sideways towards him.

His mouth went dry as he stepped closer, stopping at just the right distance to take in her entire form in the bathtub. Steam curled around her, but it couldn’t hide how utterly breathtaking she was.

Her full, round F-cup breasts floated just above the waterline, glistening with droplets that caught the candlelight. The curve of her hips, the smooth pale skin—every detail seemed designed to trap his gaze.

He’d seen Ysmeine many times before, but never like this—radiant, untouchable, and dangerously distracting. Every inch of her demanded attention, and he struggled to keep his focus where it should be.

He forced his eyes to her face, though the rest of her was impossible to ignore.

"It went... alright," he managed, his voice steadier than he felt. "Actually, I wanted to tell you—I found out something during the tests."

Her expression shifted immediately. Concern dimmed her smile, and her eyes sharpened with worry. She leaned forward slightly, water rippling down her collarbone. "Found out something? Zaeryn... is it serious?"

’I hope the fade attack didn’t give him a serious medical condition.’ she thought. Greatest fear of hers since she heard he survived a fade that the fade might still give him a disease

Zaeryn shook his head quickly, wanting to ease the tension he saw in her. "No, it’s fine. Nothing dangerous. I promise." although he understood why she would think that.

Relief softened her face again, and the corners of her lips curled into a smile—playful this time. She lay back in the normal position she was in before he walked in.

"Good. Then you can tell me all about your experience with the council..." her voice lowered into a teasing lilt, "but first—you should join me."

Zaeryn blinked, startled. "Join you?" he did not expect that. But that didn’t sound like a bad idea.

The smile she gave him was pure spark.

"Yes. Unless you’re shy about getting into the bath with me.... Which I know you’re not, so please get in here."

Her laughter was low, warm, rippling through the air like the water around her. The teasing glimmer in her gaze made it clear she already knew the answer—yet she waited, enjoying his hesitation.

"Okay." Zaeryn responded. Without much thought into it, he removed his sweatpants and the shirt, only left in boxers which did not so much to hide the thing under the fabric.

Zaeryn stepped into the warm water, letting it lap around his legs as he lowered himself carefully into the bathtub. He sat down across from Ysmeine, the heat of the bath mingling with the quickening warmth in his chest.

"Come closer," she whispered, her voice soft, barely above the water’s gentle ripple. "You won’t need to speak so loudly if you’re near me."

Zaeryn nodded and shifted, sliding closer until the space between them disappeared. The moment their bodies touched, a subtle shiver ran through him at the warmth of her skin against his. He had been close to her before and even used to cuddle, but never this close without clothes.

Ysmeine looped her arm around him and leaned slightly toward him, brushing her lips against his cheek in a delicate, teasing kiss. The contact sent a spark through him, a mix of comfort and something far more tantalizing.

She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, then guided him to rest his head lightly against her shoulder, letting the closeness linger as if the bath had created a world where nothing else existed but the two of them. "Alright, now tell me love—what did they find out?" she murmured, taking his hand in hers.

"Ysmeine... during the tests... I found out something about myself," he began, his gaze meeting hers. "I can... use Vitae."

Ysmeine’s eyes widened at that utterly shocking news, the candlelight reflecting off her pale skin as her hand stilled in the water. "You... what?" Her voice was a mixture of awe and disbelief, the words barely above a whisper.

"I can mimic it," Zaeryn continued, leaning slightly closer, the water rippling around them. "The Vitae signatures of people I’m close to... sometimes even through... intimate connections. Like... a strong bond, or... sex." His cheeks flushed, the admission hanging heavily in the air.

Ysmeine’s hand froze midwater, a shiver running through her at his words. Her smoky green eyes widened, scanning his face, trying to process what he’d just said. Her pulse quickened, her breath catching as the implications unfolded in her mind.

The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows across her pale, glistening skin, the curves of her body revealed yet still delicate in their unguarded state.

After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice a mixture of awe, worry, and something sharper—like curiosity laced with disbelief. "You... you can mimic someone’s Vitae... just by forming a bond?" Her fingers brushed against his beneath the warm water, lingering as if drawn instinctively. "That’s... unheard of. Are you sure, honey?"

Zaeryn nodded, meeting her gaze steadily. "Yes. I know how it sounds. But I’ve confirmed it."

"Confirmed... meaning you can wield Vitae now?" Her voice trembled slightly, her heart racing as she shifted closer, the water rippling with the movement.

"Yes," he admitted softly. "And I think I’ve had it for a while now. I... I already have your Vitae signature."

Her breath caught, a flush spreading across her cheeks. Her mind spun, trying to grasp the scale of what he’d just revealed.

She leaned back slightly, her hands still holding him closer to her as she let the warmth of the water and the proximity ground her, before a faint, awed smile curved her lips. "That’s... incredible. It... it could change everything.

"And it makes sense that you’d have my signature first," she murmured, her hand resting lightly on his, a grounding touch that bridged the tension between shock, curiosity, and intimacy. "I wonder though." She said, tilting her head so that their eyes were meeting. And it was like the tension between them intensified. "What else do you get out of kissing, apart from vitae signature."

She closed the distance. Her lips met his. ,