Standing just outside the grand doors, Fiana waited patiently, her poise regal despite the long, grueling days behind her. Her hair, a striking shade of deep purple, was neatly tied into a small bun, and a pair of elegant glasses adorned her beautiful face. She had dressed the part, meticulous in every detail.
Kuzan met her eyes, nodding with a small, appreciative smile as he admired her new look.
"You look well," he remarked, his tone casual, though inwardly he mused,
'Looks like she took my jokes a little too seriously.'
During their many discussions, Kuzan had often wandered off into tangents, one of which had been about the various styles of clothing from his own world. It seemed Fiana had taken his ramblings to heart, even incorporating some of his suggestions into her attire. But more than that, her entire demeanor was an effort to rise to the role she'd been given—one that was no small task. Kuzan had given her tremendous control over their current situation, a daunting responsibility.
Both of them knew that things would have been much simpler if Kuzan had just told her what to do—if he had dictated every step of the plan. But instead, he gave her the freedom to act, to exercise her political acumen and craft her own strategies. He'd done this not only to test her, but to allow her the chance to realize her own dream. No excuses, no restraints. Fiana had full reign to prove herself.
Straightening her glasses, Fiana spoke in her usual crisp, businesslike tone, summarizing her progress in the formality expected of her role.
"The Dukes have all been contacted. They're currently in a meeting with His Majesty as we discussed. After conferring with the Emperor, the best course of action we've decided upon is to grant you the title of Duke and establish your Dukedom. The meeting will conclude by the end of the day, and the Alkavian National Assembly is scheduled to take place within the week at most."
Each word was carefully chosen, concise and powerful, reflecting the weight of her duties. What she didn't mention, however, were the long days of stress, the countless issues, orders, and negotiations she had faced to bring everything to this point. While Kuzan had secluded himself, lost in thought and planning, Fiana and the Emperor had been tirelessly rebuilding the kingdom from the chaos they themselves had sparked.
Little did Kuzan realize, though it wouldn't have taken him more than a moment to understand if he cared to notice, it was his very request that had triggered the unrest, setting the wheels of the kingdom into motion.
Fiana, in her determination to honor Kuzan's seemingly otherworldly knowledge, had attracted the attention of more than a few influential eyes. She was, after all, the daughter and heir of the most prominent Duke in the nation. Her personal connections with the Queen, from childhood, made her nearly untouchable. To go against her was akin to treason.
However, it was Kuzan's sudden request to meet with the kingdom's finest talents—regardless of their field—that forced Fiana to take bold steps, even disregarding the Emperor's orders to basically 'take it easy.'
Of course, she had ignored all warnings and pleas for caution. After all, her dream of building the most renowned and prosperous kingdom was only a hobby compared to her true job—attending to Kuzan's requests. He was the only one capable of surpassing her vision, and she knew it.
Her entire being trembled at the thought of him abandoning her and the kingdom. If that were to happen, her ideals would be shattered, left to fade away as mere dreams. After speaking with him at length, she had come to understand how little this kingdom truly had to offer someone like him. It was as if a god had descended from the heavens, taking interest in a small, insignificant village purely for his amusement. He could vanish at any moment—or, worse, he could unleash his fury upon them all.
As the chosen intermediary between this God, lest man, and the kingdom, it was Fiana's duty to ensure everything ran seamlessly. If there was discord, it was her responsibility to smooth it over. To achieve this, she had offered generous incentives, targeting the kingdom's most powerful individuals—those whose influence extended far beyond titles or lands.
Not even a Duke would dare cross someone like the most renowned blacksmith, healer, magician, or even the poison crafter of the realm. These individuals, with their exceptional abilities, were legends in their own right. Their work was praised throughout the kingdom, the best of the best, and they were figures the Dukes themselves would address with respect. Yet Fiana had summoned them all, commanding them to rise from their laurels by invoking the Royal Decree.
This decision set off a chain of events far earlier than she, and certainly far earlier than the Emperor, had intended. And all because of one request. All because Kuzan had asked.
Fiana still couldn't fully understand his reasoning. 'Did he really just want to see the kingdom's finest talents?' The idea seemed almost ridiculous—but wasn't it exactly something that a God would do? Descending from the heavens to test a meger village by judging its most skilled craftsmen for his amusement.
A total of 109 of the kingdom's greatest minds and talents had been gathered, yet not one of them had displayed their skills. Could Kuzan truly gauge their worth at a glance? Did he even need to see their abilities, or did he already know everything about them?
These questions gnawed at her.
'What did he think? Was he impressed? Was it enough?'
Her heart tightened at the thought of him being disappointed. But then, with just a few words, he set her fears to rest.
"Good work."
Two simple words—yet those eight letters eclipsed all her efforts, all her sleepless nights, and all her worry. It was enough. Her heart, once clenched with anxiety, now found peace. Those words were all she needed.
"But..." Her eyes widened, fearing the worst as he continued to speak. Yet her heart attack was short-lived as his words trailed off. "...why all this?" Kuzan raised his hand, gesturing toward the transformed scene behind her. What was once a dark, lonesome hall when he had retreated into seclusion now gleamed with a soft radiance. Beautiful lights adorned every corner, illuminating the hall as if afraid to leave a single shadow.
However, it wasn't the lights that captured Kuzan's intrigue—it was what they reflected.
His eyebrows furrowed at the sight. It wasn't unpleasant, but there was something undeniably odd about it. First, by what stood in front of him, and second, by the gnawing feeling that accompanied it. A vague sense of unease tugged at him, as if he should be more impressed, more pleased, by the spectacle than he actually was.
On either side of Fiana, stretching endlessly down the hall, stood a line of women. Each was more beautiful than the last, no two alike—different hair colors, different heights, ages, even species. The only commonality between them was the black-and-white maid dresses they wore, which, coincidentally, Kuzan had also casually mentioned in conversation.
'Cat-girls, tigresses, that one looks like half-otter...' his mind continued to wander, undisturbed by the sight that would leave countless of his fellow males spitting blood in jealousy. '...In short, it seems humans and demi-humans make up most of them.'
Instead of being lulled into pleasure or even mild displeasure at the sight, Kuzan simply regarded the situation for what it was, assessing it with a cold, calculating mind. His heart had expected him to be slightly amused, maybe even annoyed, perhaps followed by a smirk or a sigh. But what startled him was the absence of any reaction. He simply didn't care.
His eyes scanned each woman's body, analyzing them as if they were objects to be evaluated. A reaction that every single maid had fantasized about—the hope that Kuzan's gaze might fall on them, even for a second, igniting a chance of being noticed. They had all entered this palace with dreams of becoming his women, bolstered by Lady Fiana's promises of the benefits such a position could bring.
But as his gaze traveled over them, one particular woman, not standing with the rest, felt a chill run down her spine. Unlike the others, who were excited by his attention, she was struck by something far more unsettling. In his eyes, there wasn't a shred of lust or emotion. There was interest, yes, but it was not the kind they had hoped for.
'Forget partners...'
It was as though he didn't even see them as human.
Her heart broke at the realization.
'I'm sorry, Azuleth,' she thought bitterly, her mind still reeling from the sting of defeat. 'This is all my fault.'
How could she have known that this God cared nothing for moral women? From the stories she had read, even some of the Gods weren't as heartless as he.
Never before had she made such a misstep. Never before had her friend so thoroughly outmaneuvered her. And now, without even lifting a finger, Azuleth had won.
Could this even be called a victory? Their game to see who could capture the king's heart first?
Her nails dug into her palms.
'It's laughable.'
Kuzan, of course, cared little for the internal turmoil his young secretary was enduring, still grappling with her recent defeat. He moved past Fiana, who, lost in her thoughts, didn't even respond as he strode forward, his attention now drawn to the rows of potential suitors lined up before him.
'Azuleth must have put her up to this,' he thought, his eyes scanning the women with analytical precision. As he studied their bodies—examining their physical strengths and weaknesses—he felt no need for further experimentation. Before, he might have gotten his hands dirty, using death-row inmates to test his theories.
But now? With the vast knowledge he'd acquired, and the skill he had earned as a result, there was no longer any need for crude biological tests. His earlier plans to carry out such experiments were discarded, making his next meeting with the Emperor surely much less interesting.
A single glance was all it took.
Their secrets unfolded before him as if they were open books. He could see everything—bones, muscle, potential, and even the essence of their souls. While the Emperor might have been astute enough to pick up on this, these girls?
They saw nothing but a young man, appreciating the wares before him.
Some were seasoned in life, while others were still fresh-faced with inexperience. Yet, no matter their backgrounds, with every step Kuzan took, hearts broke. One by one, as he passed, their faces fell—some with anger, others with sadness, some on the verge of tears as their dreams of being chosen crumbled. A few managed to mask their emotions, but it was clear that their hopes had been dashed.
And then, abruptly, he stopped.
His figure shifted, turning to the left.
In an instant, all eyes followed, the collective gaze of the maids now burning with jealousy. Their barely contained venom hung in the air, as palpable as it was venomous. Confusion quickly overtook their spite when they saw where his gaze landed.
He had chosen someone—his eyes fixed on one maid in particular. But her?
The tension was electric. Every maid in the hall, despite their unique qualities and differences, shared the same thought as they stared at the girl Kuzan had singled out.
'Why her?'
To them, it was as random as it could be.