The Elven Kiss

On the soft, warm grass, a man and woman lay entangled.
Silky golden hair spilled messily over Kant’s face, tickling him, while the faint, elegant fragrance of her body filled his nose…

Strangely, the sudden headache eased as he inhaled her scent, as if a deliberately hidden truth had responded to his search.

Collapsed on the ground, Kant had no strength to rise.
Honestly, he’d made it this far on sheer willpower.

He could push forward while standing, but once down, his resolve crumbled, leaving him unable to stand anytime soon.

Since he’d fallen, shouldn’t the princess on his back take over?
She’d rested long enough—time to do something.

But Felicia, though awake and mobile, didn’t stand or pull Kant to flee.
Instead, she gazed at him beside her, rolled over, and straddled him.

Feeling her weight and their dangerously intimate position, Kant’s mouth twitched, his right eyelid jumping uncontrollably.

As the saying goes, a twitching left eye brings fortune, a right eye calamity.

His right eyelid was practically dancing off his face—disaster was imminent.
Was the princess about to finish him off while he was weak?

If so, he had no fight left.
Not only was he drained, but by the rule of a life for a life, her killing him would settle their debt.

Ah… so unwilling.

His newly restored arm, and now his life would end here?
Heh, maybe it was time to rest…

As Kant prepared to let go, closing his eyes to await death, Felicia didn’t draw a weapon or chant a spell.
She simply leaned down, her emerald eyes locking onto his.

“Hey, I admit my unforgivable mistake, but you can kill me without humiliating me.
If you want revenge for your sister, do it quick.
Don’t keep us in this awkward position—I’d die uneasy and with my reputation tarnished…”

Her captivating gaze made even the battle-hardened Kant shy, turning his head.
Felicia, hearing his muttering about life and death, grew more serious.

“Until things are clear, I’ll call you Kant.
Mr. Kant, do you know the purpose of an elf’s kiss?”

The sudden topic snapped Kant back from expecting a fatal blow.
He looked at the princess atop him, confusion in his hoarse voice.

“Is an elf’s kiss… sweet?”

“No, Mr. Kant.
Legend says an elf’s first kiss holds sacred power.
The one who receives it must be absolutely honest for a day, answering any question from that elf.
And I can tell you, this legend is true…”

“Also, female elves typically reserve their first kiss for their betrothed.
Once given, the betrothed will reveal their true feelings for a day.
By asking if they love us, we get an absolutely truthful answer.”

Elves were fiercely loyal in love, abhorring falsehood.
They refused partners who hid insincere feelings.
The elven kiss was the ultimate test—offering it ensured an honest response, unavoidable by the recipient.

At this, Kant’s heart sank with a bad premonition.
He nervously watched her cherry lips draw closer, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Hey, I’m warning you, don’t mess around!
I’m your sister’s killer—you can’t do this!”

But the more he warned, the closer Felicia’s face came, her golden hair blocking out the light.
In the shadow, their eyes locked, his heart pounding wildly.

What’s with the racing heart?
Sure, she was beautiful, but their enmity was irreconcilable.
His heart had no business fluttering—he’d lose his life if it kept this up!

“The elven kiss is precious, but so is my sister.
To uncover the truth, I’ve decided…”

Even the composed Felicia blushed.
As an inexperienced maiden, giving her first kiss to a stranger was nerve-wracking, yet not repulsive.
His faint elven aura and the familiar trace of her sister’s scent—etched in her soul from when her sister was still a fruit—drove her.

Without hesitation, she leaned down.
The world stilled.
Kant’s eyes widened, experiencing the surreal moment of the noble princess stealing his first kiss.

When they parted, Felicia’s blush deepened, while Kant lay like a broken toy, eyes vacant, lost in confusion…

This was madness.
Was he dreaming?

A refined elven princess kissing a nobody thief?
Either the world or he had lost it.

And his first kiss, preserved for over forty years, was gone…

Seeing his lifeless eyes, Felicia worriedly patted his face, calling out, but got no response.

No time to waste.
Having sacrificed her precious first kiss, her heart raced with embarrassment.
Suppressing her shame, she asked gravely:

“Are you an elf?”

The bombshell question snapped Kant back.
He tried to protest, but his mouth moved first.

“Yes.”

The flat answer sent shockwaves through his calm heart.

What?

He’d admitted to being an elf?

Before he could recover, Felicia’s next question hit.

“Then, as an elf, what is your relation to me?”

Kant tried to clamp his mouth shut, hoping silence would save him, but it betrayed him, speaking naturally in a tone that blackened his vision.

“Obviously, you’re my big sister~”

The reply carried a girlish, teasing familiarity, as if it were the most natural thing.

No, Judge, I object!

My mouth’s slandering me!