I'm the Villain, But the Heroines Keep Choosing Me-Chapter 163: Morning Complications

Damien woke to sunlight stabbing his eyes and the distinct feeling that his entire body had been put through a training regimen designed by sadists.

Every muscle ached. His back hurt. His hips hurt. Things he didn’t know could hurt were definitely hurting.

Worth it, though.

Lyristae was still asleep beside him, one arm thrown over his chest, her face peaceful in a way he’d never seen while she was awake. Her hair was an absolute disaster, and there were marks all over her neck and shoulders that were definitely going to be visible.

Damien carefully extracted himself without waking her, which proved difficult given how thoroughly tangled they’d become. When he finally stood, he had to grip the bedpost for balance.

His legs were shaking.

"Okay," he muttered to himself. "Maybe we overdid it slightly."

The room looked like a hurricane had hit it. Sheets on the floor, pillows scattered, furniture moved, his clothes forming a trail from the door to the bed. One of the curtains was somehow torn.

He didn’t remember doing that.

Damien found his pants and managed to get them on despite his protesting muscles. His shirt was a lost cause – apparently at some point during the night Lyristae had just ripped it off him rather than deal with buttons.

The sound of movement made him turn. Lyristae was stirring, her eyes blinking open slowly. When she focused on him, her face went through several expressions in quick succession: confusion, recognition, then immediate mortification.

"Oh," she said, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. "That wasn’t a dream."

"Definitely not."

"I can’t feel my legs."

"Join the club."

She sat up gingerly, wincing. "Everything hurts. How is that possible? I’ve been in actual battles that left me less sore."

"We might have been... enthusiastic."

"Enthusiastic." She looked at the destroyed room. "We demolished the furniture. There are literal claw marks on the headboard."

"Those are from you, by the way."

Her face went bright red. "I don’t remember doing that."

"You were pretty far gone by that point."

Lyristae buried her face in her hands. "I can’t believe I— we did that. All of that. Multiple times. I’m a queen. I’m supposed to have dignity."

"You had plenty of dignity until about eight hours ago."

"Not helping!"

Damien sat on the edge of the bed, immediately regretting it as new muscles announced their displeasure. "Are you okay? Aside being embarrassed?"

She lowered her hands, considering. "Physically sore. Emotionally... I don’t know. That was intense. More intense than I expected."

"Rather have not?"

"No. Absolutely not. But I might need a day to process the fact that I spent all night doing increasingly creative things with you." She paused. "Did we really—"

"Against the wall? Yes. On the floor? Also yes. That thing with the—"

"Stop! I remember now and I’m mortified enough without the recap."

A knock at the door made them both freeze.

"Your Majesty?" A servant’s voice, carefully neutral. "I have breakfast as requested. Shall I leave it outside?"

Lyristae’s eyes went wide with panic. Damien had to physically stop himself from laughing at her expression.

"Yes!" she called, her voice pitching higher than normal. "Outside is perfect! Thank you!"

Footsteps retreated. They waited in tense silence until they were sure the servant was gone.

"The entire palace staff knows," Lyristae said faintly. "They’re going to know I spent the night with you and they’re going to gossip and by noon everyone in the city will have heard about it."

"You’re a queen. You’re allowed to have... overnight guests."

"I’ve never had overnight guests! My reputation has been impeccable for years!" She was spiraling now. "What if this affects diplomatic relations? What if other kingdoms think I’m compromised? What if—"

"Lyristae."

"What if your anchors are upset? We didn’t discuss boundaries for this and I just jumped straight to—"

"Lyristae."

"What if I was terrible at it? You’ve been with Seria and Elara and they’re both experienced and I just—"

Damien kissed her.

She made a startled sound, then melted into it, her panic visibly subsiding.

When he pulled back, she looked calmer. Still anxious, but not actively spiraling.

"You weren’t terrible," he said firmly. "You were enthusiastic and responsive and by the end of the night you’d figured out exactly how to drive me crazy. Elara and Seria won’t be upset because we discussed this beforehand. And anyone who has a problem with you having a personal life can take it up with the woman who managed eighty-four percent corruption without becoming evil."

"You’re very good at the reassurance thing."

"Practice. Elara has anxiety spirals too."

Lyristae took a breath, clearly trying to compose herself. Then she tried to stand up and immediately sat back down.

"Okay, no. Standing is not happening yet."

"Want me to get the breakfast?"

"Please. And maybe find my robe? I think it’s... somewhere."

Damien located her robe draped over a chair that had somehow ended up on the opposite side of the room. He brought it to her along with the breakfast tray from outside the door.

The servant had included enough food for a small army. Clearly they’d anticipated both of them would be hungry.

They were right.

They ate in bed because neither of them trusted their legs yet. The food was excellent – pastries, fruit, eggs, fresh bread, and strong coffee that Damien desperately needed.

"I should probably send word to Seria and Elara," he said between bites. "Let them know I’m alive and will be back later."

"Later? You’re not leaving immediately?"

"Can you walk yet?"

"...Point taken."

"Besides, we should probably talk. About what this means, all the relationship logistics we ignored last night."

Lyristae made a face. "Can we not do serious relationship talks while I’m still processing last night?"

"The elephant must be addressed eventually."

"I’m aware. I’m regretting it now." She grabbed more pastry. "Fine. What happens next?"

"I meant what I said last night – I’m interested in exploring whatever this is between us. But I’m also committed to Seria and Elara, and I need to make sure everyone’s comfortable with how this develops."

"That’s very mature and reasonable."

"You sound disappointed."

"I was kind of hoping you’d just declare that I’m yours now and damn the consequences." She paused. "Which is ridiculous because I know better than to expect dramatic gestures. But lives of pining apparently did things to my expectations."

"I can work on the dramatic gestures." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Don’t. It would be weird coming from you." She finished her coffee. "So what, we just... see how it goes? Date occasionally? Continue having extremely athletic sex when the opportunity arises?"

"Basically."

"That’s anticlimactic."

"Did you want me to propose? Because I can—"

"No! Gods, no. Way too soon for that." But she was smiling. "Though if you did propose eventually, that would be... I’m going to stop talking now before I say something embarrassing."

"Too late. You already said you want me to propose."

"I said if! That’s hypothetical!" Her face was red again. "I’m terrible at this. How did I seduce you successfully last night but can’t manage a simple morning-after conversation?"

"Last night involved less talking."

"Much less talking. Also less thinking." She set aside her plate. "Okay, serious question though – are we telling people about this?"

"Eventually. Probably best to coordinate with Seria and Elara first, make sure we’re all on the same page about how to handle the political implications."

"Right. Because I’m a queen and you’re a high-profile shadow wielder and this is going to cause all kinds of diplomatic complications." She sighed. "Why can’t relationships be simple?"

"Because we’re complicated people in complicated situations."

"I hate that you’re right."

Another knock at the door made them both tense again.

"Your Majesty?" Different servant this time. "Lord Valcrest has visitors. Captain Thornwood and High Priestess Lightbringer are requesting his presence."

Of course they were.

Damien looked at Lyristae. "Any chance there’s a back way out of here?"

"There is, but they’d know you used it and that would be worse." She grimaced. "You should probably go face them. I’ll... stay here and contemplate my life choices."

"They’re not going to murder me."

"You spent all night with a woman they’re tentatively accepting as part of your life. They’re at least going to threaten violence."

"Fair point."

Damien managed to stand up this time, though his legs were still protesting. He located what remained of his shirt – definitely unwearable – and resignedly pulled on just his pants.

"You’re going out there shirtless?" Lyristae asked.

"My shirt is in pieces. Unless you have something that would fit me?"

"Everything I own would be comically small on you." She paused. "Though watching you try to squeeze into one of my dresses would be entertaining."

"Hard pass."

"Your loss."

He made it to the door "Last night was incredible. Worth whatever awkward conversations are coming."

Lyristae’s smile was genuine. "Yeah. It really was."

Damien steeled himself and opened the door to find Seria and Elara waiting in the hallway, both wearing expressions that were carefully neutral.

"Morning," he said.