The dining table glittered with delicacies—rare seafood and exotic dishes even the wealthy seldom tasted. A feast fit for a hero and goddess.
Gilded artwork adorned the walls. A crystal chandelier scattered prismatic light across the room. Hugo, overwhelmed, fumbled with his spoon, unsure if the soup was entering his mouth or his nose.
"The food is exquisite."
He forced a smile between bites. A lifetime of groveling had honed his talent for flattery.
"I'm relieved." Ion's reply was cordial. "I worried it might not suit your palate."
"Impossible! This is the finest meal I've ever had!"
To prove his point, Hugo shoveled food into his mouth with audible enthusiasm—a display of poor etiquette that would've made nobles recoil. Thanatos, however, merely smiled as she sliced her steak with surgical precision.
"How delightful to see you enjoy it."
Hugo's cheeks flushed when her gaze met his. Even while eating, her beauty was paralyzing.
As dinner concluded, servants brought out vintage wine—each bottle worth a mansion—and decadent desserts.
"Mmm. The aroma is particularly bold tonight."
Thanatos inhaled the cork's scent, her tongue darting over painted lips. Ion filled their glasses, his hand trembling slightly.
A toast. Sips of crimson liquid. Light conversation.
Then—
"Forgive me," Ion stood abruptly, his smile strained. "I need the privy."
"Are you unwell?" Hugo asked.
"Just a stomachache." Ion waved him off before vanishing, leaving Hugo alone with Thanatos.
Hugo gulped his wine, hyperaware of the goddess across the table. Normally, she treated him like furniture. Tonight? Her attention was scalding.
"What's your current magical proficiency?"
"Ah, only third-circle, embarrassingly…"
"Only?" Thanatos' laugh was a silver chime. "Last we met, you were second-circle! Such progress~"
Hugo scratched his head, buoyed by praise from the continent's supreme archmage. Her flattery continued—each compliment puffing his ego like a balloon.
"You're too kind. A nobody like me—"
"Nonsense."
She swirled her wine, eyes locking onto his. Simultaneously, she arched her back, accentuating the swell of her breasts beneath the qipao.
Hugo's grip on his glass tightened.
Every inch of her was engineered to ruin men.
Wine-dark eyes mirroring the vintage in her hand.
Curves that defied physics and propriety.
Bare legs, crossed lazily, the slit of her dress teasing glimpses of thigh.
A goddess. A temptress.
Jealousy curdled in Hugo's gut. How does Ion deserve her?
"…Ion's taking a while," he blurted, desperate to divert his thoughts.
Thanatos shrugged, unbothered. "Shall we play a game to pass the time?"
"A game?"
"Unless you'd rather sit in silence?" Her eyelashes fluttered.
"N-No! I'd love to!"
With a smile, Thanatos rose and sauntered to a lacquered drawer. Instead of kneeling, she bent at the waist—her qipao riding up to reveal the hypnotic sway of her hips.
Hugo's pulse roared in his ears.
"How odd. I could've sworn it was here…"
She wriggled deeper into the drawer, her backside jutting toward him. Each adjustment sent ripples through the fabric.
Higher. Just a little higher—
"Aha!"
Thanatos straightened, brandishing a small key. Hugo jerked his gaze away, face burning.
"Shall we begin?"
She slid into the seat beside him—too close—and dangled the key with a smirk.