Gon's Harem System -
Chapter 182: Talking with Zara
Chapter 182: Talking with Zara
The palace courtyard stretched wide and silent under the night sky, its flagstones cool beneath Gon’s boots as he slipped out from the torchlit halls.
Stars burned sharp overhead, pinpricks of light against the vast black, casting faint glimmers across the stone walls that boxed the space.
From somewhere beyond, the palace’s late-night clamor drifted—a low rumble of voices, clinking goblets, and the occasional burst of laughter—but here, the air hung still, heavy with the scent of damp earth and fading jasmine.
Gon’s chest felt tight, restless, his skin still warm with the memory of Lena’s touch hours before.
Her soft gasps, the way her fingers had curled against him—it lingered, a quiet fire in his blood.
But it wasn’t enough to quiet the pull that had drawn him out here, into the dark.
It was Zara now, her sharp tongue and fiercer spark, that flickered in his mind, an itch he couldn’t scratch away.
He moved through the shadows, his steps soft but deliberate, the hem of his cloak brushing the ground.
The courtyard was a maze of low hedges and weathered statues, their stone faces worn smooth by time, but his eyes caught on her almost at once.
She leaned against a wall near the far corner, her slim frame relaxed yet poised, one boot propped against the stone. In her hands, a dagger twirled—a silver blur catching the moonlight with each deft spin, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder like ink against the pale glow.
She didn’t look up as he approached, but the slight tilt of her head told him she’d marked his presence long before he spoke.
"Out here all alone?" he asked, his voice low, carrying a gentle lilt that broke the courtyard’s hush.
He stopped a few paces away, hands loose at his sides, letting the question settle between them like an offering.
Her eyes flicked up, amber and keen, meeting his with a glint of amusement. "And you’re playing the stray?" she replied, her smirk quick and sharp as the dagger paused mid-twirl.
She straightened slightly, pushing off the wall with a lazy grace, the blade still dancing faintly between her fingers. "Thought you’d be tucked away somewhere cozy by now, charming the next fool who’d listen."
Gon chuckled, the sound soft and easy, rolling off her jab without a flinch.
"Maybe I’m just looking for better company," he said, taking a step closer, his boots scuffing lightly on the stone. "You’ve been dodging the crowd all night—figured I’d see what’s keeping you out here instead."
She arched a brow, twirling the dagger one last time before sliding it into the sheath at her hip with a soft snick.
"Maybe I like the quiet," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, her tunic pulling taut across her shoulders.
"You should try it sometime—less chatter, more weight." Her tone was dry, a playful edge cutting through, but her eyes stayed on him, testing.
"Fair," he conceded, his grin widening just enough to show he wasn’t rattled.
"But I’ve seen you in the thick of it—cutting through the noise, holding your own. That’s not just talk. Takes something real."
He let the words hang, simple and steady, his gaze holding hers—not pushing, just watching, letting her feel the truth in it.
Zara tilted her head, her smirk softening into something less guarded, though her eyes still danced with that teasing spark.
"Flattery’s a cheap coin," she said, but her voice had eased, the bite dulled by a flicker of curiosity.
She uncrossed her arms, one hand resting lightly on her hip as she shifted her weight.
"What’s your game tonight, Gon? Out here spinning lines in the dark?"
"No game," he said, stepping closer still, the space between them shrinking until he could smell the faint leather-and-steel scent of her.
He raised a hand, resting it on the wall beside her head—not caging her, but near enough that the air warmed between them. His voice dropped, soft but sure.
"Just thinking you’ve got a spark—I’ve felt it, even from across a room. Ever let it catch, just for a night?"
Her grin sharpened, but she didn’t pull away, her breath brushing his jaw as she tilted her head up.
"Think you’ve got the kindling?" she teased, her voice low and daring, her eyes locked on his like she was weighing him in that moment.
She held still, close enough that he could see the faint freckles dusting her nose, the way her lips parted just slightly.
"Maybe," he murmured, then leaned in, closing the gap. His lips brushed hers—slow at first, a careful warmth, testing the waters.
She didn’t hesitate, kissing back with a fierce edge, her mouth firm and sure against his, her teeth grazing his bottom lip as she deepened it.
The taste of her hit him sharp—wine and something wilder, like the night itself—and he pressed closer, one hand sliding to her waist, feeling the taut line of her beneath her tunic.
Her fingers curled against his chest, gripping the fabric briefly before she broke away, a soft laugh spilling from her lips, warm against his cheek.
"Not half bad," she said, her voice breathy but laced with that same teasing lilt.
He smiled, softer now, his thumb tracing a light arc along her side, just above her belt.
"Could be better," he said, his tone dropping to a warm, intimate rumble.
"My room’s warmer—quieter, too. Just us, one night, no weight to it." He paused, letting the offer sit, his eyes searching hers. "Let me show you something real."
Zara studied him, her amber gaze narrowing slightly, but the tease in her expression held a flicker of intrigue.
"You’re a bold one," she said, her hand brushing his chest again, lingering there as if testing the heartbeat beneath.
She tilted her head, considering, her lips twitching upward. "Alright," she said finally, her voice a low challenge. "Show me, then."
He stepped back, offering her a hand with a quiet grin, and she took it, her grip firm as she fell into step beside him.
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