Lucen kept eating, not looking up.
First Circle, he thought. That's where I'm at now.
Barely any real mana control. Still shaky. But with the system… and with her help—in that way—maybe he had a shot. Maybe more than that.
He didn't say any of that.
He just swallowed, then said, "I don't know if I'll make it. But I want to give it my all."
Arwen looked at him for a moment.
Then smiled—small, soft, bittersweet.
"…Then I'll help you, darling," she said gently. "I'll personally teach you how to circle your mana again. How to build it back up properly."
Her eyes lowered slightly.
"If… if you want me to."
Lucen looked up at her, and smiled.
Bright. Genuine.
"Thank you, Mother."
The weight in her chest—the worry, the sadness, the quiet ache of knowing he might leave again—all of it softened. Melted.
Just seeing him smile like that…
It made everything feel lighter. Almost enough to forget what she was afraid of.
—————————————————————
Hours later, the hallway was quiet.
Cool air drifted in from the windows as Lady Arwen walked down the corridor in her evening gown—deep lavender silk, shoulders bare, hair untied and flowing down her back. She carried a small oil lamp in one hand, her other hand resting lightly against the wall as she walked.
She stepped into Lucen's room with practiced ease.
He was already in bed.
She leaned down like she always did, brushing a few strands from his face.
Then kissed his forehead.
Soft. Warm.
"Goodnight, baby," she whispered, just above a breath.
She didn't linger this time.
Just turned, walked to the door slowly, and looked back once before leaving.
And then she was gone.
Lucen stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then opened the system panel again with a thought.
A faint ping echoed in his mind as a new notification slid into view.
[New Side Quest Available]
Quest: Tender Care
Objective: Massage your hard-working mother.
Reward:
• +3% Incubus Bloodline Awakening
• Passive Skill Unlocked — Delicacy
(Host's semen transforms into a naturally sweet, addictive fluid when consumed. Affects desire growth rate.)
Status: Optional
Note: Physical contact increases Desire gain effectiveness.
Lucen blinked at it.
"Huh…"
He tilted his head against the pillow.
"…Kind of underwhelming."
But he wasn't complaining.
Arwen had just set down her brush when the knock came.
Knock knock.
She blinked, still in her nightgown, hair loose around her shoulders. The room was dim, lit only by a bedside lamp. Her bed was turned down. The window cracked open just enough for the breeze to carry in the scent of lavender from the courtyard.
She crossed the room and opened the door without thinking.
There he stood.
Lucen.
Still in his robe, hair slightly messy, one hand rubbing his shoulder.
She tilted her head.
"…Lucen?" she said softly, surprised. "What is it, baby? It's late."
He looked at her, calm as ever, but his voice carried a faint tired note.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to bother you."
"You're not," she said quickly. "I just—what's wrong?"
He shifted a little, hand still at his shoulder.
"My arm's a little sore," he said. "Probably from walking around too much. Or from lying down for too long."
He glanced down slightly, then back up at her.
"I didn't want to call one of the maids this late. Would've felt weird. Thought maybe… I could ask you."
Arwen blinked again, still a little caught off guard.
"You want me to…?"
He nodded lightly.
"Just a massage. If it's not too much trouble."
She looked at him for a second longer. Her sweet, warm-eyed son standing at her door late at night, looking up at her like he still trusted her with everything.
Her heart melted all over again.
"…Of course," she said, stepping aside.
"Come in, dear."
Lucen sat on the edge of her bed, his robe draped casually over his shoulders, exposing just a bit of his upper back. His posture was relaxed, his head slightly tilted forward.
Arwen sat beside him, already reaching up with both hands. She rested her fingers lightly on his shoulder first, testing the tension.
She pressed gently, thumbs working in slow circles.
Lucen let out a low hum.
She smiled.
"I used to do this all the time for my sister. Marianne. Do you remember her?"
Lucen nodded faintly. "Only vaguely. She was the sharp one, right?"
Arwen chuckled.
"She still is. But back then, she was softer. Always getting tense from posture training and etiquette drills. Father made her sit for hours, trying to get that 'imperial stillness' perfect."
Her fingers moved lower, pressing along the slope of his shoulder.
"Here. Right there—this is one of those spots that locks up fast," she said softly, kneading with practiced ease. "You never notice until someone touches it. Then it hurts."
Lucen gave a quiet grunt under his breath. "You're right."
She smiled wider. "Of course I am."
She shifted a little closer on the bed, one knee bent as she leaned into the massage. Her nightgown rustled gently as she moved, silky fabric brushing over the sheets.
"Now this one," she said, sliding her fingers inward toward the base of his neck, "you don't press directly. Just around it. Here. And here."
Her hands glided smoothly, thumbs pressing and circling as she spoke, almost in rhythm.
"Marianne used to yelp every time I got close to this spot," she added with a light laugh. "Said it tickled. Or maybe she was just pretending to get out of it."
Lucen smiled faintly, letting her work.
Arwen shook her head.
"I still remember her dragging me into her room with all her hairpins still in, demanding a massage before any royal dinners. Said I had 'commoner's hands.' Not sure if that was a compliment."
Her fingers slid down along his spine, tracing gently through the robe's open collar. She rubbed small circles between his shoulder blades, palms gliding with a rhythm that felt almost like a lullaby.
Lucen stayed quiet.
But his body leaned into her touch.
She looked at him—his eyes closed, his breathing steady.
And her smile softened.
"I missed this," she said under her breath, barely a whisper. "Having you close. Letting me take care of you."
Her fingers didn't stop.
She pressed her thumbs into a spot just above his lower shoulder, and he let out a soft groan. Not lewd—just relieved.
"There," she whispered. "That's the one. Poor thing. You must've been curled up in that bed too long."
She leaned in slightly closer.
"I could teach the maids how to do this, but they'd just mess it up," she added with a soft laugh. "They always press too hard in the wrong places. No patience."
Lucen opened one eye slightly.
"I'd rather it be you anyway."
That made her pause for just a second.
Then her smile returned, warmer.
"And it always will be, baby," she whispered.
She leaned forward again, still working, the bed creaking faintly beneath them. Her gown brushing his side. Her breath light on his shoulder.
Arwen's hands were still gently working over his shoulders when Lucen shifted.
He turned slowly, facing her now, the robe slipping slightly down his arms.
She blinked as he looked up at her with that calm, gentle expression—eyes soft, voice warm.
"…Mother."
"Hm?" she tilted her head, smiling.
"You've been taking care of me all this time," he said quietly, reaching out to lightly touch her hand. "I think it's only fair I return a little of it."
She blinked again, slightly surprised.
He smiled wider, just a little.
"Let me give you a massage."
Her lips parted, then curved into a soft laugh.
"Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to do that…"
"I want to," he said. "It's the least I can do."
She hesitated for only a second.
Then gave a light nod, rubbing the back of her neck with a sheepish smile.
"Well… I have been feeling some tightness in my back lately. Maybe I'm just getting old."
Lucen didn't miss a beat.
"That's not true," he said immediately, with a slight pout. "You still look young and beautiful, Mother."
Her cheeks colored faintly at the compliment.
She smiled again, genuinely touched.
Inside, Lucen kept a straight face.
Honestly, it'd be weird if her back wasn't sore.
She's been carrying that rack around since before I was born.
He stood and patted the bed behind her.
"Lay down, let me take care of you for once."
She didn't argue.
And just like that, she turned and eased herself down onto her stomach—robe trailing, the silk clinging to her hips and back as she settled onto the mattress with a soft sigh.
"I won't complain," she murmured playfully into the pillow. "Let's see if my baby inherited my massage skills."
Lucen rolled his sleeves with a faint smile.
Let's find out.
She laid down across the bed, arms tucked under the pillow, robe bunching just enough to frame the curve of her lower back.
The robe clung to her like it was barely holding back a secret. The silk stretched over her hips—wide, soft, heavy. The shape of her ass under that thin layer made his mouth go dry.
He blinked.
Holy shit.
He wasn't even subtle about it—his eyes dropped straight to the way her gown curved with her body, hugging the dip of her waist and flaring again across her backside. A perfect hourglass. One that didn't even need to try.
Lucen always thought of himself as a tits guy.
But damn.
He swallowed.
'From now on… I'm both.'
He knelt beside her, placing one knee on the bed as he settled next to her side. His hands reached out and rested gently on her back.
Warm. Smooth.
Her breath shifted slightly under his touch.
"You can start wherever feels right, dear," she murmured, voice muffled against the pillow. "Don't be shy."
Lucen exhaled softly through his nose.
Noted.
His palms pressed into her back, thumbs working up toward her shoulder blades. He moved slow, careful. Pushing into the tension points just like she had taught him, his hands wide and steady.
She let out a small hum.
"Oh… that's nice…"
Lucen kept moving, down her spine, toward the middle of her back.
His eyes couldn't stop drifting lower.
The robe had shifted slightly again, inching up as she relaxed into the bed, and now he could see even more of her thighs—thick and plush, her hips rising up into a curve that made his fingers twitch.
His hands moved slow.
Thumbs circling her mid-back. Palms gliding with just the right pressure. He traced the lines of muscle along her spine, careful not to push too hard, just enough to let her sink deeper into the mattress.
Arwen sighed softly.
"You're really good at this…" she murmured.
Lucen smiled faintly.
"Guess I picked it up from you."
He kept working, letting the silence stretch comfortably between them. Her breathing stayed calm. Trusting. The sound of her voice, soft and relaxed, told him everything he needed.
He moved lower.
Just a little at first—his hands slipping down past her waist, fingers brushing the start of her hips.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't say a word.
Lucen's fingers spread slightly wider, cupping the curve of her hips through the silk as he applied more pressure.
"Here too?" he asked, voice casual.
"Mmh… yes," she mumbled into the pillow. "There's always tension there…"
He kneaded slowly, thumbs pressing into the thick muscle at the top of her ass, just low enough to toe the line. The silk under his palms shifted, soft and thin, and he could feel the shape more clearly now.
He kept massaging, letting his hands slide along her sides, then back in again, thumbs gliding across the edge of her lower back, circling where her spine dipped and her hips rose.
She gave another quiet hum.
"You really… have a good touch, Lucen…" she whispered, smiling faintly. "Feels… really nice…"
He leaned in slightly.
"Then I'll keep going."