After waking to find Mia nestled in his arms, Jett's morning wood stood proudly. He decided not to fuss with it and waited for her to rouse. Mia's sleeping face was so adorable that he often forgot she was centuries older than him—and royal elven nobility to boot. When she finally stirred, she dealt with his "issue," and the pair reunited with Noctlisa to start the day.
Once again, Jett ate breakfast alone at the long dining table while his maids stood at attention behind him.
I guess nothing's perfect.
He wanted to eat with Mia and Noctlisa, but Mia was so deep into her head‑maid duties that she refused to let Noctlisa—who clearly wanted to honor his wish—sit beside him.
I'm not in the mood to argue yet.
"You said you were training, Noctlisa?" Jett asked around a cheekful of food.
"Aye, Master," she nodded. "Guess my bloody genes are weak. Trained since I could walk, yet I still can't carve a damned six‑pack. Strength's sky‑high, but I'm still soft—like the head maid."
