The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Talyra followed a step behind him, trying to focus on the soft flicker of enchanted lanterns above, not the memory of what her hand had accidentally touched. Beside her, Nessa was quieter than usual, her brows furrowed in some invisible internal battle.

They watched Mikhailis approach one of the breathing shelves—tall and gently pulsing with the quiet thrum of enchantment. His fingers skimmed a tome's edge, trailing along the spine of a book bound in barkweave. His concentration looked sincere… at first.

But as both priestesses drew closer, the air between them grew charged. Subtle. Tense. Mikhailis, flipping a page with slightly trembling hands, suddenly stiffened.

They were close. Too close.

Pressed together in the narrow space between bookshelves, the two priestesses leaned in to get a better look. Not on purpose… at least, not entirely. Their robes—soft moonweave draped over generous forms—brushed his sides.

His breath hitched.

Nessa's eyes widened a fraction as she realized her shoulder—and more—was pressing against him. She tried to shift subtly, only for her chest to accidentally bump his arm again.

Talyra, flustered but curious, leaned on the opposite side—and didn't notice the angle of her own movements until she felt the faintest resistance.

Mikhailis let out a cough. Awkward. Stiff.

He closed the book in front of him, a little too fast. "Ah. Fascinating. Yes. Extremely sacred tree rituals. I'll come back to this one later."

He stepped sideways—too quickly—and spotted a tome perched up high on the uppermost shelf. "Now that… that looks promising."

A small ladder was positioned nearby. Simple wood, carved with Silvarian script. He placed a foot on the first rung.

"We can fetch it for you," Talyra offered, trying to regain composure.

"No, no. I've got this," Mikhailis replied, already climbing.

The priestesses exchanged glances.

He reached the third rung. Then the fourth. The folds of his ceremonial robe pulled back slightly, fabric tightening across his form.

And as he stretched upward—

Oh gods above.

Talyra, standing closest, froze.

From her angle, her face was nearly level with the back of his thighs. Her gaze, unfortunately—or perhaps fatefully—aligned with the very shape she and Nessa had inadvertently discovered earlier. Now even more defined. And directly in front of her.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe.

Mikhailis, blissfully unaware, reached further. "Almost got it…"

Then he paused. A strange sensation registered—a whisper of warmth. A shift in air. His eyes narrowed. His instincts flared, but—

Too late.

Behind him, Nessa had tried to steady him, worried he might fall. Her hands had landed low—much lower than intended.

Talyra inhaled sharply, cheeks flooding with color.

It was chaos. Noble, sacred, utterly awkward chaos.

Mikhailis froze, halfway up the ladder, realization dawning with all the clarity of a moonbeam cutting through mist.

"…I—should probably come down now."

"No need to come down!" Nessa blurted out too fast, both hands suddenly lifting in alarm—as if trying to stop gravity itself.

"Yes, you're doing just fine," Talyra added, her voice just a bit too tight.

Mikhailis hesitated, one foot braced on the upper rung, gloved hand still reaching for the ancient tome with gilded ivy embossing.

"You're sure?" he asked, glancing down—but the moment he twisted, his balance shifted. The ladder creaked beneath him. The priestesses instinctively moved to stabilize it.

And that was when everything went very, very wrong.

Talyra, reaching up too quickly to brace his leg, stumbled on the edge of her robe. Her forward momentum left her with nowhere to go—but up. Or rather… forward.

Her face made sudden, very unceremonious contact with the back of Mikhailis's robe.

There was a pause.

Then—

Mikhailis went rigid. Talyra froze, lips parted in sheer shock as she realized what she'd just bumped into.

Nessa gasped, horrified—and horrendously curious.

A beat of silence passed. Sacred. Awkward. Thick with implications and ancient tree-witnessed sin.

Talyra squeaked, turned beet red, and fell backward onto her heels, hands flailing to cover her face. "I-I didn't mean to! I swear by the Blooming Oath, that was an accident!"

Mikhailis, now clinging to the top rung like it was a lifeline, groaned softly. "Please tell me that wasn't your face."

"I SAID IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!"

Nessa couldn't breathe. She was laughing. Gasping. Slightly horrified, entirely overwhelmed.

And somewhere beneath the Breathing Library, a flicker of magic trembled again—responding not to lust, nor to shame, but to potential.

Something about this moment had resonance. A curious stir within the wood. The tree remembered laughter. Awkwardness. Human closeness.

As Mikhailis delved into the ancient tomes, the two priestesses, Talyra and Nessa, followed closely behind him. Their eyes scanned the shelves, taking in the intricate carvings and the whispered secrets of the Breathing Library. As they moved, their robes rustled softly, the sound weaving in and out of the gentle hum of the shelves.

Mikhailis paused at a particularly interesting text, his fingers tracing the embossed script on the cover. Talyra and Nessa drew closer, their faces tilted upward to read the title. As they leaned in, their bodies shifted, their robes brushing against Mikhailis's sides. The fabric of their garments was soft, and the gentle pressure sent a spark of awareness through him.

He coughed, the sound low and rough, as he skimmed through the pages. The text was fascinating, but the proximity of the priestesses was making it difficult for him to focus. The softness of their breasts, pressed against his arms, was a distraction he couldn't ignore. He paused, his eyes scanning the page, but his mind was elsewhere.

With a quiet murmur, Mikhailis closed the book and set it back on the shelf. He turned, his eyes scanning the upper reaches of the shelves, and spotted a tome bound in a strange, scaly material. The title was etched in a language he didn't recognize, but the symbols seemed to dance across the cover, drawing him in.

"Ah, that looks interesting," he said, his voice low and husky.

Talyra and Nessa followed his gaze, their faces tilted upward. "We can fetch it for you," Talyra offered, but Mikhailis was already moving toward the small ladder that stood against the shelf.

As he climbed, the priestesses watched, their eyes fixed on the back of his robes. The fabric was loose, but it still clung to his form, outlining the shape of his body. Talyra's gaze dropped, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of Mikhailis's backside, clad in the thin fabric of his robes.

Nessa, standing behind her, felt a surge of heat rise to her face. She looked away, her eyes scanning the shelves, but her gaze was drawn back to Mikhailis's form. As he reached the top rung of the ladder, he stretched, his body arching backward.

Talyra's face was level with the back of his robes, and she felt a jolt of surprise as she realized that her mouth was inches from the fabric. The warmth of his body radiated through the material, and she could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

Mikhailis, oblivious to the priestess's gaze, reached for the book. His fingers closed around it, and he pulled it down, the movement causing him to shift slightly on the ladder. As he did, Talyra's face made contact with the back of his robes, her lips brushing against the fabric.

The sensation was sudden, and Mikhailis froze, his body rigid. Talyra's eyes went wide, and she stumbled backward, her face burning with embarrassment. Nessa, standing behind her, felt a surge of heat rise to her own face, and she looked away, her eyes scanning the shelves in an attempt to compose herself.

The moment hung in the air, heavy with tension and unspoken awareness. Mikhailis, still clinging to the ladder, felt a shiver run down his spine. He realized, too late, that Talyra's face had been inches from his body, and the warmth of her breath still lingered on his skin.

As he slowly descended the ladder, the priestesses watched, their faces still flushed with embarrassment. The air was thick with unspoken tension, and the silence between them was oppressive. Mikhailis's eyes met Talyra's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the only sound the soft hum of the shelves.

As Mikhailis continued to pretend to read the book, he felt the robe slowly getting opened, the fabric sliding apart to reveal his towering member. He could sense the eyes of the two priestesses on him, their gaze fixed on his body with a mixture of shock and awe.

And then, he heard it. The gasp of the two women, their breath catching in their throats as they took in the sight of his enormous size.

"Oh my..." Talyra whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Gods above..." Nessa added, her voice equally shocked.