After a while, Favna finally stirred awake.

Alte watched as her eyes fluttered open.

Their gazes met. A strange yet warm, comforting sensation brushed her cheek.

Blinking into focus, she realized—she was clutching Alte’s hand… and had pressed it firmly against her own face!

In a flash, Favna jolted upright like a startled rabbit, fully awake.

“Good morning,” Alte greeted first, voice light.

“G-good morning…” Favna stammered, dazed, a hint of panic flickering in her eyes as she stared at him.

To avoid misunderstanding, Alte rushed to explain: “I only meant to pat your head—not your cheek. *You* grabbed my hand and held it for over half an hour. I didn’t pull away.”

Favna’s tension eased. She shrank back under the covers, leaving only one flushed cheek visible.

Alte stole a glance at her flustered expression but said nothing.

Favna opened her mouth, words faltering, then swallowed them silently.

“If you dislike head pats, I won’t do it again.”

“No… it’s not that,” she murmured shyly. “Alte… do you like patting girls’ heads?”

Alte blinked in surprise—he’d braced for scolding, not *this*.

“Last night… didn’t *you* pat mine too?” she added, crimson flooding her face all the way to her ears.

Alte instantly pieced it together.

*So the little miss hadn’t been asleep either?!*

Thank goodness he’d kept his urges in check—or the Oversight Bureau would’ve hauled him straight to jail.

“Well, I did. Felt nice. Smooth,” he admitted openly. “If it bothered you, my bad… But you could’ve said you were awake. Felt like a sting operation.” Caught red-handed, denial would only dig him deeper.

Favna peeked over the blanket, eyes only. “I… woke when you touched my head. What else could I do but pretend to sleep?”

“I’m glad you trust me,” Alte sighed, a wry smile forming. “But I *am* a guy. If I’d actually tried to take things too far… you couldn’t just keep pretending till… y’know.”

“…”

Silence.

He was right. Against his Radiant Sun Tier strength, she’d have been powerless—biting back tears, forcing herself to stay still.

But Alte wasn’t that man. She’d been safe all night.

Noticing her solemn look, he teased gently, “Or… did you *want* me to do something?”

“N-no way!” Her face burned hotter than before. She vanished completely under the blanket—a silent, defiant protest.

“Alright~” Alte spread his hands with a chuckle. “I’ll go wash up. Sleep till noon if you want.”

*Teasing this homebody dragon is kinda fun.*

Favna stayed buried until the heat in her cheeks faded. Slowly, she peeked out.

Relief washed over her as Alte left.

Truth was, waking to find him beside her bed last night had locked her muscles tight.

But he’d only patted her head. Nothing more.

*Why pat my head?*

She touched her own hair—smooth, ordinary. Even her dragon horns felt awkward; they’d probably bump someone’s hand.

“Doesn’t make sense…” She shook her head, dropping the thought.

Awake now (though still drowsy), she rose.

At Navia Hotel, those Demonkin used phones to remotely trigger the Mana Crystal Bomb, relying on an outside accomplice for timing. Clumsy—but for tech-illiterate Demonkin, it was their best shot. Had she not jammed all signals, the plot would’ve succeeded.

Now, the Dragon Knights Order faced a dead end again.

And… was it just her? The Fallen Empire’s intelligence bureau seemed oddly incompetent. Navia Hotel intel was riddled with gaps. Even imperfect intel shouldn’t leak *this* much.

“That incoming call’s IP…”

Favna flopped onto the bed, fingers clacking across the keyboard.

She’d captured the signal while jamming it. Now—follow the trail. Uncover the Demonkin and slave traders’ allies.

Intel was vital. She could proudly say: without her, Alte would’ve taken a Mana Crystal Bomb head-on.

Time to help the captain. Just doing her part.

Anyway—her skills were exposed, Alte hadn’t blamed her. No reason to hold back.

She scoured the dark web. Time slipped away.

Yet progress felt blocked… as if someone actively severed the threads.

Noon sun blazed high. A knock tapped the door.

“Homebody dragon! Stop gaming—time to eat!” Alte called.

“I’m *not* a homebody dragon!” she squeaked, face flaming.

Still, she rose, washed quickly, and stepped out.

Spotting Alte gaming at the desk, memories of the bedroom rushed back.

Her posture stiffened as she sat beside the desk.

Alte paused his game. He remembered too.

Awkward silence thickened the air between them.