Late Night Break-in

The walk that follows is one that feels like years as Leo tries to lug Myra along the path without having her fall asleep mid-way. He's been staring at her the entire way, unable to peel his eyes away from her gentle features and the thought of her lovely hair that complement them.

The thought about not seeing her again saddens him, until the point comes where he decides he'll do his best to find her again after the night ends.

In a way, she's almost his Cinderella and quite literally, he would be her Prince. Soon enough, the view of the marble statue brings an end to their leisurely stroll.

Leo slowly lays her against one of the benches in front of the statue, leaving with her a napkin with the crest of the royal family in the pocket of her coat. As he unfolds to stand, he buries either hand in his pockets, still unable to get over her.

"My liege, it's important that we leave now before His Majesty gets mad," one of Leo's men reminds. Leo nods, a cloud of mist evaporating off the skin of his lips as he lets out a sigh.

Giving her one last smile, praying that there's someone who'll take care of her, he returns in the way he'd come from—leaving her behind.

He pauses along the way once more to steal a glimpse towards her, knowing he wouldn't be able to see even as little as her silhouette from the angle he's at, but regardless he tries. "I hope to meet you again," he utters before finally finding it in himself to leave.

Myra lies on the bench, legs spread and arms hooked around the backrest. Just in time to watch Leo drop Myra off here, Ares emerges from one of the lanes, rushing by Myra's side. His eyes widen at the sight of her, heart hammering in his chest with worry over the fear of having something happen to Myra while she was meant to be in his responsibility for the night.

Ares cups Myra's cheeks in his hands, noticing as her skin almost burns in his touch. He raises his gaze to Leo, whose silhouette is still visible in Ares' line of vision.

The Marquess clicks his tongue in annoyance until suddenly, he catches a whiff of alcohol. He lowers his face towards her and realises, at least, she's drunk and the worst hasn't happened.

Not wasting another moment out in the cold, Ares lifts Myra into her arms and carries her effortlessly towards the carriage prepared for them. His lips pull downwards into a frown as he watches the hood fall off her head.

While he can't seem to get his mind off the man he'd seen earlier leaving Myra on the bench, he reminds himself to not bring up the encounter with Myra, regardless of what happened between them.

Out of nowhere, breaking him out of his stern expression, she nuzzles against his chest. Ares smiles. Helping her into the carriage, he braces himself for the explanations he'll need to provide to her maids.

The coachman knows much better than to ask questions which have a close to hundred-percent chance of getting on Ares' nerves like, in this situation, 'what happened to Myra?'

Ares, instead, pays no heed to any words intended for him to acknowledge. The coach continues swiftly on his way towards the Ruskin manor. Myra leans against the window of the carriage, fast asleep and pass out drunk, messier than ever.

For some reason though, while the mere sight of it means danger for the both of them as nobles who were meant to be responsible and safe during a night out like this, Ares feels nothing but calm. He leaves his eyes closed for the meanwhile.

When the time comes that Ares has to face the wrath of Myra's family, he starts to think showing up with her so late is an absolutely terrible plan.

Holding her in his arms, his eyes dart around the surroundings until they fall upon a tree bending over onto the balcony leading into her bedroom. Peering towards her, he smiles to himself at his ingenious idea.

Slowly wrapping her arms around his neck into a piggyback position, he runs all the way to the bark of the tree, glancing around to ensure no one's watching.

At this time of night, there's a low chance of being spotted either way. Attempting the almost-impossible, Ares bends his knees and with one hand to support Mizuki and the other to climb, he hoists himself onto a higher branch. He does so carefully and with utmost care.

It's lucky for him that he's been focusing so much of his time on strength training that it's coming to use in such an interesting situation such as this.

With hard effort, Ares makes it onto her balcony, upon which he slowly helps her up before climbing. He pauses a moment to catch his breath, when he realises Myra has been partially awake through this.

"Are we home..?" Myra questions in a fatigued voice, making a little more sense than before. Ares nods, slowly wrapping one arm around her waist to lead her into her bedroom.

It's a relief she doesn't normally leave her balcony doors locked, neither do her maids by her request.

While he confidently assumes nobody would be in her room at this time, he spots Leia and Jen standing by her bed, chattering with each other worriedly. Ares freezes by the open balcony doors, Myra in his hands.

The maids turn their heads at the sound of footsteps and watch with a wide-eyed look, eyes frequenting between Ares and then Myra. He clears his throat and slowly rests her against the bed before creeping away with slow steps.

While doing so, he presses his index against his lips and the maids nod obediently, understanding to keep this a secret like they've done several times before. With this reassurance, Ares smiles and nods before leaving through the balcony once again.

Leia turns her head to Jen. "Do you think the Marquess will ever court My Lady?"

To this, Jen lets out a knowing laugh. "I'm sure he's tried for several years. If My Lady was interested in him, I'm sure she would've given him attention like a lover would. It's a shame, he takes care of her so well."

Leia nods. "It will hurt for him to watch when she finds a partner who treats her better."