The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

"So, this isn't just nature taking its course."

"Not at all," Mikhailis said, sealing the sample in a small vial with a practiced flick of his wrist.

"This is deliberate, or at least heavily influenced by external factors. Whoever—or whatever—is behind this mist, they're not just targeting the land. They're targeting the people who rely on it."

Rodion's voice chimed in softly through his glasses, its tone as clinical as ever.

<"Preliminary findings confirm significant disruption of the soil's nutrient cycle. The presence of lead and sulfur compounds suggests airborne pollutants have settled into the area, likely a byproduct of Technomancer-related activities. These pollutants could stem from industrial processes or deliberate environmental tampering. The interaction of these compounds with the mist's pervasive chemical properties appears to exacerbate the degradation, disrupting natural pH levels and nutrient absorption in the soil. Observable discoloration and structural irregularities support this hypothesis, but further testing will refine the chemical profile and confirm the potential for bioaccumulative toxicity impacting both flora and groundwater.">

Mikhailis nodded slightly, tucking the vial into his belt pouch with a practiced precision. As he did, his thoughts churned, piecing together the observations from the soil sample.

The greenish tint could indicate sulfur compounds, possibly interacting with trace metals like lead. That would explain the altered pH levels, but what if there's more? What if the mist isn't just exacerbating natural degradation but actively introducing new compounds? His mind raced through the possibilities, envisioning chemical chains breaking down and reforming under the mist's pervasive influence. There's too much variance here for it to be purely coincidental.

He adjusted his gloves, standing slowly as his gaze swept over the barren field. The faint glow of Rodion's projections in his glasses layered additional data over his vision, highlighting subtle inconsistencies in the terrain. Each highlighted spot added another piece to the puzzle, forming an intricate web of chemical interference.

Cerys tilted her head, watching him with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

"You're quiet. Figured you'd have a snarky comment or two by now."

Mikhailis gave a faint smirk, brushing dirt from his gloves.

"Just processing. You know what? I know that you want my attention but wait until your turn, okay, my lovely Lone Wolf?" Mikhailis winked before turning to the vial on his hands.

"This field isn't just dead—it's been killed. The mist's chemical compounds are doing more than suffocating the crops; they're destabilizing the soil's ability to sustain life. Think of it like poisoning the roots while salting the earth for good measure."

Her brow furrowed as she stepped closer, crouching beside him.

"And you think someone's behind it?"

He nodded, his expression darkening.

"The degradation patterns are too uniform, too targeted. If we're dealing with Technomancer interference, they're using the mist to introduce elements that disrupt natural cycles. Lead and sulfur might just be the beginning."

Cerys glanced at the discolored soil in his hand, her sharp green eyes narrowing.

"And if you're right?"

Mikhailis's smirk returned, though it carried an edge.

"Then we've got a bigger fight ahead of us. But first, we need more data. This is just one piece of the puzzle." He turned his attention back to the field, his gaze lingering on the withered remnants of crops.

There's something else here. Something I'm missing. But I'll find it.

"Let's keep moving. The more data we collect, the clearer this picture becomes."

Cerys stood, brushing dirt from her gloves as she cast another wary glance around the outskirts.

"You and this... analysis method of yours seem to know a lot. Think we'll find anything else this interesting?"

Mikhailis grinned as he straightened, adjusting his coat with a sharp tug.

"Oh, I guarantee it. And if not, at least we'll have a scenic tour of the village's worst-kept secrets."

<Preliminary analysis indicates accelerated degradation consistent with prolonged mist exposure. Probability of external interference: 84%.>

"Noted," Mikhailis muttered, glancing at Cerys.

"How's the guard situation?"

"Clear so far," she replied, her voice steady.

"You're lucky I'm here. You'd have been spotted ten times over by now."

"That's why I keep you around," he quipped, flashing her a grin.

"Well, that and your sparkling personality."

She shook her head but couldn't hide the faint smile that tugged at her lips.

Their final stop took them to an abandoned field, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. Mikhailis crouched low, his fingers brushing over the withered stalks of what once might have been a thriving crop.

"This place tells a story," he said quietly, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

Cerys watched him, her gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary.

"And what's it saying?"

"That we're running out of time," he replied, sealing the last sample.

As they turned to leave, a faint rustle in the distance froze them both. The sound was subtle, almost imperceptible, but in the stillness of the night, it was enough to send a jolt of alarm through them. Mikhailis's sharp instincts kicked in, his eyes darting toward the source of the noise. Without hesitation, his hand shot out, grabbing Cerys by the arm and yanking her toward the nearest cover—a thick bush just a few steps away.

"Get down!" he hissed, urgency cutting through his usual lighthearted tone.

Cerys barely had time to react before they dove into the foliage together. The suddenness of the movement left them both unbalanced, the uneven ground beneath the bush making their footing precarious. They tumbled, limbs tangling as they fell. Mikhailis twisted mid-fall, trying to shield Cerys from the brunt of the impact. A muffled grunt escaped him as his back hit the ground, the air rushing from his lungs.

Cerys landed atop him, her knees pressing into his sides. Her wide eyes locked onto his, shock and confusion etched across her face.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her breath warm against his cheek.

"Shh," Mikhailis murmured, his hand instinctively rising to rest lightly on her arm.

"Something's out there." His voice was calm but low, his usual teasing tone replaced by a seriousness that caught her off guard.

They stayed still, listening intently as the rustling grew closer. The faint sound of boots crunching on the soft earth sent a spike of tension through them. Mikhailis tilted his head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the approaching figure through the gaps in the leaves. His glasses glinted faintly in the moonlight, the interface inside quietly feeding him information about their surroundings.

<Single entity detected, likely a patrolling guard. Movement pattern suggests standard patrol route rather than targeted search.>

Great, a guard, Mikhailis thought, suppressing a sigh. Because sneaking around an unfamiliar village at night wasn't challenging enough.

Cerys shifted slightly, her movement drawing his attention back to their awkward position. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was shallow as she tried to steady herself without making noise. Her hands pressed against his chest, and her ponytail, now slightly disheveled, brushed against his jaw.

"You're crushing my lungs, Lone Wolf," he whispered, his voice tinged with dry humor despite the situation.

"Maybe if you hadn't pulled me like a sack of potatoes, this wouldn't have happened," she shot back in a sharp whisper, her glare fierce but her voice betraying a slight quiver.

The guard's footsteps grew louder, the sound amplified in the silence. Cerys froze again, her body tensing against his as she glanced over her shoulder toward the noise. Mikhailis, meanwhile, tilted his head to the side, his lips quirking into a faint smirk despite their predicament.

"Comfortable?" he murmured, his voice barely audible but laced with amusement.

Cerys's head snapped back toward him, her face turning an even deeper shade of red.

"This isn't the time for jokes, Your Highness," she hissed, her voice barely louder than a breath.

The footsteps paused, and they both instinctively held their breath. The guard lingered just a few steps away, the faint creak of leather and the jingle of metal equipment piercing the stillness. Mikhailis's hand subtly shifted, his fingers brushing against his pocket where he kept a small vial of powder—a last-resort distraction if they were discovered.

Cerys's weight shifted slightly as she adjusted her position, trying to remain perfectly still. Her knee accidentally pressed into his side, drawing a soft grunt from him. She shot him an apologetic look, though her expression still carried a hint of annoyance.

The guard muttered something inaudible before continuing on his way, the sound of his footsteps gradually fading into the distance. The tension slowly ebbed, replaced by the faint rustle of leaves as the wind picked up again.

Cerys exhaled sharply, her shoulders relaxing as she turned her attention back to Mikhailis. Her position atop him suddenly felt all too noticeable, and she quickly pushed herself up, her movements jerky and flustered.

"Do you always have to make everything so complicated?" she muttered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Her cheeks were still tinged pink, and she refused to meet his gaze directly.

Mikhailis propped himself up on his elbows, his grin returning in full force.

"Complicated? I just saved us from being caught. You're welcome, by the way."

"You dragged me into a bush and made me fall on you," she retorted, crossing her arms. Her sharp tone was undercut by the faint waver in her voice.

"Details," he replied breezily, sitting up fully and dusting off his coat. His glasses caught the faint moonlight as he adjusted them, giving him an almost mischievous glint.

"Besides, I thought you'd appreciate the opportunity to practice stealth."

Cerys glared at him, but the corners of her lips twitched as though she were fighting back a smile.

"You're insufferable."

"And yet, here we are," he said, gesturing around them with a dramatic flourish.

"Surviving, thriving, hiding in bushes. Just another night in paradise."

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

She rolled her eyes, shifting off him quickly.

"Again, You have a habit of making things unnecessarily complicated."

But as she moved, her expression shifted, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks as she realized the awkwardness of their position. Her lips parted slightly as though to say something, but words failed her. Her green eyes darted to the side, refusing to meet his gaze, and a shaky breath escaped her. The heat rose to her cheeks when she became acutely aware of a firm pressure against her inner thigh. His thing, his gigantic thing that has entered her several times are pressing into her crotch making her suddenly felt in heat.

Her body froze momentarily, her mind racing as the realization hit. She gripped his shoulders instinctively, her fingers tightening, as she whispered, "You..." but stopped herself, her voice faltering.

Mikhailis, sensing her hesitation, tried to adjust himself slightly, but the movement only made matters worse. Her knee pressed against his side, and her weight shifted just enough to intensify the situation. He attempted to sit up, his face flushing as he muttered, "This isn't what it looks like—"

She pushed him back down with surprising force, her red hair cascading around her face as she glared at him, her blush deepening.

"Don't move," she hissed, her tone equal parts flustered and commanding.

He raised his hands in surrender, a crooked grin forming on his lips.

"Understood, Commander Lone Wolf," he quipped, though his own embarrassment was evident in the faint pink tinge to his cheeks. She tightened her grip on his shoulders for a moment longer, as though grounding herself.

"Well," he said, brushing himself off as he sat up, "this was an unexpected turn of events. Comfortable, were we?"

Cerys shot him a sharp glare, but the redness in her cheeks remained as she avoided his eyes.

"Shut up," she snapped, though her tone lacked its usual bite. She crossed her arms and turned away, her body stiff as though bracing herself.

Mikhailis tilted his head, observing her with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"You're adorable when you're flustered," he teased lightly, earning him another glare. He raised his hands defensively, adding, "Alright, alright. I'll behave. But let's get moving before that guard decides to double back."

"No," She suddenly said.
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"Eh?"

"I guess... I do get comfortable in this position..."