It was well into the night by the time Eliron and Artie left the tavern. The moon was high up in the sky, and around it were the golden stars Eliron had come to love.
These stars were not a constant in this world, but when the conditions were just right, they would paint an artistic piece with the skies as their canvas.
Although Artie had claimed to be perfectly capable of walking, after repeated trial and error, including her nearly getting run over by a speeding carriage— Eliron had decided to carry her.
So now, she was on his back, her warm hands wrapped around his neck, her breath tickling his ears and her face blushed red from utter embarrassment.
If anyone were to see her in this state, then the reputation she had built up for decades would crumble in an instant.
Thankfully, they were very far from Artaris…
"This never happened." Artie's eyes narrowed as she glared at him from behind.
