Warmth.

Gen yawned, feeling the dawn sun against her closed lids. The redness that shone through encouraged her to rise, but she enjoyed this warmth and feared the early morning coldness, when marble floor bit the feet and soft drafts chilled the arms.

As crisp air tickled her toes, Gen reached for her blanket, fingers clasping the thin material; and she tugged. Its corner caught something, so she gave it another yank before her hands searched for the culprit. As she found the blanket’s hem, she also discovered a smooth, hot surface. Her fingertips outlined smooth ridges and perceived a soft yet firm surface.

That’s not right. Gen opened her eyes and flinched upon meeting Aether’s peering gaze. Stars, what was he doing?

Her ears throbbed with the beat of her heart, and her cheeks seared hotter than an overloaded plasma pistol. She retrieved her fingers from beneath his shirt—her so-called blanket—and fought the urge to feel his abs for a second time.

“Dude, what’re you doing?” she asked, brushing aside the fact that she was the one sitting on his lap and leaning against his shoulder and that she had been the one to grope his toned muscles.

“Nothing,” he said. His throat opened oddly, as if to stifle a yawn. With large bags rimming his bloodshot eyes, he seemed tired, and Gen presumed he hadn’t slept at all.

“Did you stare at me the whole night?”

“No. My neck ached after an hour, so I turned off the light.”

“You know, your words are creepy, not comforting.” She glanced at the door connecting her room to his. “If you got up to turn off the light, why didn’t you tuck me into bed then return to your room?”

“Didn’t want to wake you.” Aether aura broke, pointed his finger, and controlled one of his shards to flip the switch. While doing so, he scratched the wall, which bore scars from presumably last night.

So Aether sat here, without moving?

“How do I know you weren’t doing crude things to me?” She lifted her chin, giving him a smug smile of: man, I know exactly what you were thinking. “Such as stripping me naked with your eyes.”

His brows wrinkled, and Gen found it somewhat adorable, so she wiggled just to see his reaction. He blandly replied, “I didn’t want to drop you.”

“So you held me, throughout the night and without sleeping? Even though my bed is within an arm’s reach?”

“Didn’t want to wake you,” he said for a second time, eyes drifting towards the balcony in what she thought was guilt.

Gen smirked. If he had placed her on the bed, he would need to leave, and if he had lain beside her, she would have killed him at dawn. Both were a loss for him so he kept her on his lap. Jerk.

“Aether, I’ll give you three seconds. Three, two...”

His gaze returned to her; the slight raise of one brow hinted of confusion.

“Zero.” She pulsed her aura, creating a solid wave of pressure that slammed into him. The chair buckled, and his arms, which were placed gently around her, released her. He crashed to the ground, nose bleeding from being smacked by her barrier.

Gen glanced at Mind and surveyed the healing pod for damage. The pod, which was a meter from her, avoided the pulse that had only extended a few centimeters. Had she grown too paranoid?

Gen leaned over Aether—who sat on the floor, hand wiping his bloodied lips, blue eyes gazing at her figure.

His ears were red. Embarrassment or had he caught a cold? Either way, the pervert looked delicate, and a sudden idea crossed her mind. Crouching, she slipped one arm beneath his hamstrings and the other behind his shoulders; then, she lifted him.

“What are you—”

“Princess carry,” Gen said. “Wouldn’t want to toss a star prince over a shoulder. Plus, a guy like me has gotta remain somewhat suave.”

An arm hooked behind her neck, and he fidgeted but remained oddly obedient. With a size that overshadowed hers, all he needed to do was twist his waist and he’d slip free of her grip.

Gen carried him to the door—the one leading to the hallway because she didn’t want to break the other one and have it not close. She raised her foot and said, “Time to toss you out.”

Then, she aura broke, destroying the doorknob and its latch.

SMACK!

“Aaugh!” The door hit something—or somebody—then slammed shut.

Gen unceremoniously dropped Aether and stepped over him, opening the door again. Whoever had been hit the first time suffered another blow.

“Ow! Stop it.”

Gen pursed her lips.

Drake. And Fenri. The former clutched his face while the latter stood still, pulling his collar as a blush surfaced on his cheeks and covered his whole face, including his forehead. If Gen didn’t see how Fenri’s gaze drifted anxiously about the corners of the halls, she would have thought he had suffered an allergic reaction.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“We kinda came for the meeting,” Fenri said. Not once did his eyes meet hers.

Gen crossed her arms. “What meeting?”

“Why are you so violent!” Drake complained, still covering his nose. She hoped it was broken. “You didn’t come to the meeting last night, so Boss texted us this morning. He told us we’ll have it once you wake up.”

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Coldness nipped at her back, and Aether stepped beside her. He likewise crossed his arms but said nothing.

Gen’s lips pulled into a thin line. “How long were you standing in front of my door?”

“Not long,” Drake said.

Fenri added, “I tried to stop him. He wouldn’t listen.”

“Shush.” Drake spun on the man then faced Gen with a smile. “As aura knights, we must always be prepared. What were you two doing?”

Gen’s cheeks turned hot at his question. Were they visibly red or was it merely heat? A porcelain plate caught her attention—its contents licked clean, all but for a smear of egg yoke.

She smirked. “I see you’ve had enough time to eat breakfast.”

Drake blinked. “Sorry about that. I got hungry.”

“Why be sorry? It wasn’t my breakfast you—” Pausing, she faced Aether. Had it been for her? “Man, you’re real creepy.”

He glared at Drake; the frostiness between them glimmered like translucent snow.

“So where’s Joule?” Gen asked, ignoring Drake’s shivering and Aether’s tantrum. She peered behind the door then sighed in relief upon seeing no one. Not all of Aether’s subordinates were nosy.

“He’ll be here,” Aether said, retrieving his phone, possibly ready to message the man.

“I’m gonna brush my teeth and get ready.” Gen returned to her room and made sure to close the door, not caring whether or not it swung open. The message of “do not enter” was delivered, and the men should understand it. She entered her bathroom and prepared herself for the day.

Having cleaned herself, Gen stood in the shower, her mind pensive. The warm water cascaded down her face and congregated at her chin before gliding over her body. With less smoothness, she pushed away her worries for Mind and grappled with the idea of politics.

How did Princess do it?

Her sister-in-law understood the planets, knew everything about their relations, goals, and history, but this information escaped Gen’s understanding, leaving behind disconnected bubbles of facts, such as that Planet Name had a bad relation with D’nathal but the reason why had escaped her memory.

It was as if someone had taught her to ignore such things, or maybe she just cared too much about emotions and couldn’t understand complicated schemes. Give her a gun and an objective; that was how Gen saw the world.

As she turned off the water and dried her body, she thought of the few things she remembered:

Planet Name—led by a monarchy, good economy, called the jack of all but master of none.

D’nathal—led by a plutocracy residing in the skylands, extremely wealthy, called the constellation’s money tyrant.

North Star—led by an elected ruler among the elites, balanced economy, called both the schemers and the friendly neighbor.

East Star—led by some kind of democracy, money derived from entertainment, called the dream planet.

South Star—led by a monarchy, wealth derived from selling manpower and raw resources to other planets, called either the constellation’s mercenary or its largest military base.

West Star—led by a council but ruled by Janus, balanced economy, called the science and medicinal hub.

The anarchy planets speckled the Compass Constellation; they lacked both order and civilian residents. Gen knew the most about them, but that was only because her information focused on what type of materials they possessed, the size and rank of their monsters, and the planet’s environmental conditions.

The Firmament Bridge, recently crafted by a group of aura-breakers, physically united North Star and East Star and acted as a mercenary hub for the surrounding constellations. This she had heard from Mind.

Gen recalled the Central Palace—a giant space station—where the emperor and empress dowager lived. She shook her head, scorning herself for almost forgetting something so important.

There was also some other place, but it escaped her completely.

Sighing, Gen wrapped a towel around her waist and left the bathroom.

She froze.

Aether, Drake, Joule, and Fenri sat before Mind’s healing pod. Did they not know of privacy?

Fenri’s chair, which stood beside Joule’s and opposite of Drake’s, faced the bathroom door. His eyes widened, and Gen yanked her towel upward to cover the fat on her chest. Yes, fat, because thinking of them in any other way would incite her into murdering him.

A drop of blood suddenly escaped his nostril.

Dude, aren’t you gay? Gen glared at him. Then she straightened her towel, feeling smug. She supposed she did make a sexy young man.

Drake’s head turned, mouth agape.

“Save me!” he yelled, and Gen’s face blackened. Was she an ugly monster? No, she wasn’t!

Frost cloaked the room. Its white form clouded the glass doors leading to the balcony and snaked the rims of items, such as the corners of her shelves and of the healing pod.

“Immature boys,” Gen growled. A hailstorm gathered from the frost, small clumps of ice compacting into hail, swirling about the room. Aether’s glare graced each of his subordinates, causing them to shiver. She imagined that each glance carried the warning, “Have propriety.”

Entering her closet, Gen waved a hand over her shoulder. At least Joule hadn’t made much of a reaction.

“I’ll be done in a sec,” she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

Someone had organized the clothes by color. Who organized clothes in such a barbaric manner?

Gen wasted time finding what she needed, as the shirts and pants and bras were intermixed with each other. Upon finding binders for breasts, she tossed them onto the floor to later trash. Her blobs of fat were rather small—she surprised herself each time she made Dessy’s pop—and she preferred the extra mobility, so binders weren’t for her. Maybe for others, but not for her.

She donned a comfortable sports bra then a pair of athletic boxer briefs. For her eyes only, underwear helped her call upon her inner self. That was why Dessy wore lacy lingerie and she wore boxer briefs.

Someone had hung her aura knight uniform in one corner, separated from the organized rainbow. She scratched her chin and debated whether to wear it. The others weren’t.

Taking longer than she had expected, Gen donned a pair of black, cargo pants; an armored, tactical vest; and a maroon, long-sleeved shirt. She also added a leg holster then posed in front of the mirror, looking very much like a mercenary soldier.

Very handsome. She nodded to herself and exited the closet.

“You look nice,” Aether said, and Drake gave a sly thumbs-up—not to her as he had tried to hide it with his thigh. Was he approving of Aether’s comment? So weird.

Under the four men’s gazes, Gen grabbed a weapon model from her shelf. Oh, they were real. A smile tugged at her lips and she inspected the plasma pistol, weighing it in her hand. “What’s the specs?”

Aether replied, “It’s a Million Joule 10cc endurance pistol. Doesn’t do rapid fire but it’s good for about 150 shots.”

Wow. Gen gently caressed the pistol. Such a high-tech little baby. Of the 10cc plasma pistols she had seen, their cores only lasted about a hundred shots. “What’s the overload amount, and rest period? Delay?”

“It overloads after eight repeated shots, and there is a two second rest period. Complete cooldown takes about six seconds. Delay is three-tenths a second, and the pistol resists movement jams. I wouldn’t risk it, but the jamming rate is around thirty percent if you jerk it at critical moments.”

“Sweet!” Gen smiled holding the pistol high in the air. “What’s the model name? I’m guessing this is a weapon just for the Star Lines?”

Aether’s eyes softened, and he leaned in his chair, bringing himself closer to her. “Just for me. Plasmatic EP MJ-10 Mark II. There are only two in existence, and that’s one of them.”

Nodding, Gen stuck it into her holster then sat on the healing pod and splayed her legs. After procrastinating, she was finally ready for the meeting, but she wished she could just ditch it and either go kill monsters or take Sexy on a joyride.