Emma stood in the room's center, her fingers gently grazing the edge of the dresser, eyes trailing across the pale walls and the plainness of it all. The curtains fluttered quietly, letting in the light of a new day—but even with the breeze, the air felt still. Her gaze lingered on the corners of the room, on the single bed, the creaky wooden floor, the silence.
"The room they gave me at the church…" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, "…wasn't filled with much either. They said they didn't want me to get too distracted." She gave a soft, breathy laugh, almost wistful. "But even that room felt… fuller than this."
She immediately blinked and shook her head, lips pressing into a sheepish line.
"Not to be ungrateful," she added, half-turning as if someone might be watching or listening. "I guess the emptiness just makes me notice."
She looked up, hoping someone had heard that—someone specific. Her words had been half a joke. She wanted to hear a chuckle or even a sarcastic comment in return. But instead, her eyes fell on Caelen, sitting at the edge of the bed, leaning slightly forward, his hands resting loosely between his knees.
He wasn't laughing.
He wasn't even looking at her.
"Caelen?" she said, her voice softening. "Are you alright?"
He blinked once, slowly, and finally met her gaze.
"Um, yeah, I'm fine."
His eyes flicked to the mattress beside him. He gave it a tap—silent but clear. She stepped over and sat beside him. The bed creaked beneath them, the springs protesting gently against their weight.
He sat quiet for a long breath.
Then he spoke.
"Sorry… about before. How I responded."
Emma blinked. Her head tilted, confusion lacing her features. "Before?" she echoed. But as she looked at his expression, it clicked. Oh.
The way he snapped at her suggestion about the church. The seriousness. The way he shut her down.
She smiled faintly and reached out, her hands gripping his shoulders warmly.
"It's not a big deal," she said, her voice tender. "Don't worry about it. Really." She leaned forward just a bit, trying to get him to meet her eyes.
He did.
"You're smarter than me, and I know that," she said, grinning. "I'll follow your plans. Sometimes I say things without thinking or do stuff that… I don't know, might seem silly. So if you scold me or get serious, I won't hold it against you."
She chuckled at her own admission, the laugh light and unforced.
Caelen cracked a smile—genuine this time—and a small laugh escaped him too. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the golden card. He held it between his fingers, the shimmer catching in the room's dim light.
"That's why we need to go out and get clothes," he said, tilting the card toward her. "Because I'm getting you out of that church get-up."
Emma scoffed lightly and straightened, almost ready to protest—but she caught his smirk. Something teasing in it. Something warm. Her shoulders dropped, and she gave him a grin of surrender.
"Alright, alright."
Later…
After dropping off what little they brought, Caelen and Emma left the room.
Downstairs, they ran into Rebecca, who leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen with a mug in hand. She told them about a shopping strip in the city where there was a small show happening—part sale, part entertainment, apparently a local thing. It wasn't too far off, she said, and worth checking out for deals on clothes.
Thanking her, they hailed a taxi from the street just outside the building. The city of Velden passed by in bright flashes—cars humming, street lights blinking, digital signs crawling with ads. It was lively, much more than anywhere they had been in weeks. Towers reached high above, and people bustled past in all directions.
They arrived at the mall in less than twenty minutes. Inside, it was even busier—elevators humming, kids laughing, vendors shouting over the noise. Caelen took the lead, and together they began browsing stores. Their budget wasn't huge, but they stretched it as much as they could.
Emma, surprisingly, made things easier.
She didn't fuss. She didn't linger too long or chase after fashion trends. Her eyes skimmed the racks with the clinical detachment of someone who never needed more than a robe. After years of church attire, the idea of casual clothing was… foreign. But she smiled at the novelty, trying on a few things here and there with Caelen offering comments from outside the changing room.
Eventually, they reached the dressing section of a boutique, and Caelen had had enough of the white-gold church robes.
He picked out an outfit himself.
Handing it to her, he nodded to the fitting room with a half-smirk.
"Alright, let's finally see you in something that's actually normal."
Emma raised a brow, holding up the clothes and tilting her head.
She didn't protest.
But she was definitely planning on teasing him after.
Caelen leaned against the cool wall outside the fitting room, arms folded across his chest as his gaze wandered across the rows of bustling shoppers. He tapped his foot absently, glancing now and then toward the closed curtain. It had been quiet for a bit—too quiet—and knowing Emma, that probably meant she was deep in some internal war with denim.
Inside, Emma stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the simple white long-sleeved shirt in her hand. Out of all the options, this was the only one that felt… familiar. The cut was modest, the fabric soft, and the sleeves reminded her a little of the half-robes she used to wear back at the church. Not too flashy. Not too bold.
Then there were the jeans.
They had been tossed in casually by Caelen—probably without thinking—and were hanging off the rack beside the shirt like a challenge.
She sighed softly and reached behind her, starting to unlace the simple gown she had worn for so long. One piece at a time, she slid the old layers off her body, folding them neatly before placing them in the shopping bag by the bench. Now almost bare, the air kissed her skin in a way that felt far too vulnerable outside of a bathing chamber.
Emma slipped on the shirt first, the cool fabric hugging her figure. She stretched it a bit across her chest—smoothing it down, adjusting the collar—and then turned to the jeans.
And instantly regretted it.
She stepped one leg in, then the other, and tried to tug them up.
"Ugh—what is this?!" she hissed through clenched teeth, jerking the waistband up and wincing as it clung too tightly around her thighs. Her balance wobbled as she hopped once, yanked again, and pulled the zipper slowly with gritted frustration.
Outside, Caelen glanced at the clock on his holo-brace and raised a brow.
"Hey, Emma?" he called, tapping the curtain lightly. "You struggling in there?"
From inside, he heard her growl out:
"I'm… trying to put these jeans on!"
Her voice was muffled but aggressive, coated in sheer battle-fatigue.
He chuckled, resting his head back against the wall.
"I'm sure I got the right size. Try doi—"
"I got it!" she cut in quickly, her voice full of hard-won victory.
He laughed again under his breath and plopped down onto the nearby bench, shaking his head with a grin.
A minute later, the curtain pulled aside, and Emma stepped out, holding a shopping bag that likely held her old church garments.
Caelen looked up.
And stopped.
His eyes traveled slowly—too slowly—across her new silhouette. She wore the white long-sleeved shirt effortlessly, its simple fabric gently clinging to her curves without exaggeration. But the jeans—gods, the jeans—they hugged her hips and legs like a second skin, sculpting every detail in ways her robes had never revealed. Her curves were full and confident, the lines of her waist dipped into perfect arcs, and her chest—subtle beneath the shirt—rose and fell with her nervous breath.
Caelen swallowed and blinked hard.
She looked… stunning.
Natural. Real. Beautiful.
"What do you think?" she asked with a hesitant smile, turning around to show the full fit.
He didn't answer with words.
Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into a gentle embrace. His hands traced her waist lightly, admiring the feel of her through the clothes he picked.
Emma jumped at the sudden contact.
"H-Hey! What are you doing?"
Her cheeks flushed red almost instantly, and she squirmed in his hold.
Caelen leaned in, his breath brushing against her neck.
"Can't help it," he murmured. "You look too good."
Emma finally wrestled herself out of his grasp, half-laughing and half-panicking, her face now entirely crimson.
As she tried to regain her composure, both of them froze.
A group of women near the back had turned toward them. A few were whispering and giggling—not subtly at all. One woman leaned toward another, clearly thinking she was just out of earshot.
"She looks like a damn model."
"Right? Those curves in those jeans?"
"I wanna bite that peach…"
Emma's entire body tensed. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed toward the exit.
"I'm going outside!" she called over her shoulder, her voice half-embarrassed and half-panicked.
Caelen smirked as he heard her boots thudding across the floor. He turned to the cashier, paid quickly with a tap of his golden card, and jogged out after her.
She stood near the curb, looking anywhere but at him, hugging the bag like a shield. Her cheeks were still burning red.
Caelen walked up beside her and pulled her into a side hug without hesitation.
"Don't worry," he said in a low, amused tone. "No man or woman's going to bite you." He paused, leaned down a bit closer, and added:
"Except me, of course."
Emma let out a tiny, panicked squeak and smacked him lightly on the chest.
"You're the worst!"
He just laughed.
Her face was still a mess of flustered pink when they hailed another taxi. Even on the ride home, heads turned to stare at Emma through the windows, and Caelen didn't miss a single one of them.
He didn't blame them.
She was impossible not to look at.
Eventually, she tugged her sleeve over her hand and buried her face in it, muttering something about never wearing jeans again.
Caelen, smug and amused, leaned back with a grin.
The city blurred past them, the lights melting into gold and silver streaks as they returned to their new home.
The soft click of the door unlocking was followed by the warm scent of roasted meat and garlic wafting through the hallway.
Emma stepped in first, her boots thudding gently against the polished floor as she carried the shopping bag in one hand, her cheeks still faintly tinted pink. Caelen followed behind, the door swinging shut behind them.
Laughter echoed from the living room.
Three people were already seated at the low table—plates of food half-finished, cups filled with something that smelled like spiced tea. Rebecca looked up from her plate, mouth still half-full.
"Hey, welcome back! Your food's in the kitchen, I didn't want it to get cold," she said with a wave of her chopsticks. Her tone was casual, but her eyes scanned Emma's new outfit with a knowing grin. "Nice jeans."
Emma groaned.
But Caelen didn't respond.
He had stopped walking entirely, his attention drawn to one of the three at the table.
A girl sat at the far end, her posture relaxed, her focus entirely on her food. She had short, messy brown hair with streaks of violet curling at the edges under the warm light. Her green eyes—sharp and feline—were half-lidded, distant as if the world around her barely existed. A black choker adorned her neck, matching the simplicity of her dark shirt.
There was something about her.
Something… off.
Then it happened.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION - MISSION TRIGGERED]
Target Identified: Unawakened Primordial Demon Vessel
Objective: Form a Servant Contract with the Subject
Time Limit: 30 Days
Reward: Demon Energy Control Mastery [Tier I]
Note: Subject is currently unaware of true nature. Use caution and strategy. Failure to complete will result in a mission lockout for 6 months.
Caelen's eyes widened subtly as the words scrolled across his vision, invisible to all but him.
A servant?
He looked at her again. Something inside her was sleeping, chained.
She hadn't even noticed him yet… or so he thought.
Because at that moment, the girl slowly lifted her head.
Their eyes met.
Her gaze pierced into him, not threatening, but unnervingly calm, like she was seeing something she didn't quite understand. There was no flicker of recognition or fear. Just… silence.
Then she blinked slowly, looked back down, and took another bite of her food.
Caelen didn't say a word.
Emma turned to him. "You okay?"
He gave the faintest nod, his mind already racing.
This wasn't just another house guest.
This was his next challenge.
If you're enjoying the story so far, don't forget to drop a Power Stone! It helps a lot and tells me you're loving the journey too. (More chapters coming soon!)