Chapter 14
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Bitch Selection
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The morning birdsong filled the air.
The woman who had fallen asleep naked stirred awake, rubbing her eyes.
"...Mm."
Her long red hair swayed like curtains.
Large, heavy breasts, half-obscured by those locks, jiggled lightly.
Her voluptuous hips flared wide, matched by thick, luscious thighs.
The kind of body folk called perfect for bearing children.
Swish. She carefully slipped out of bed, her chiseled abs—marked with an "11"—flexing tight.
It was a physique sculpted to her beloved man's tastes.
'Ah, so bright.'
She squinted at the sunlight pouring through the wide windows.
It was too dazzling to keep her eyes open.
"Anyone out there?"
"Yes, miss."
At her call, someone waiting beyond the door opened it.
A servant girl, fresh off her shift change.
"You called for me?"
The servant bowed politely.
Not a flicker of surprise at her mistress's naked form.
Seeing it every day had made her numb to it.
"Prepare for a light breakfast, then straight to the Imperial Palace. No need to help with makeup—I'll handle that myself."
"Understood. Anything else?"
"No. Thanks for your help."
She issued her brief orders and dismissed the servant.
Highborn ladies usually had attendants for their primping, and she was no exception.
Well, she had been.
"Yaaawn..."
She stretched with a lazy yawn and headed to the wardrobe.
A massive white armoire.
Click. Opening it revealed rows of expensive dresses.
All high-end, in a rainbow of colors.
For noblewomen, dresses were de rigueur.
But the garment she picked wasn't a dress.
A navy uniform that looked like one.
The mark of an escort and close aide.
A special outfit only she and one other could wear.
Escorts were supposed to stick close at all times, living in the palace.
But considering her status as the Duke's daughter, they'd made it a commute.
She pulled occasional duty shifts—truly just occasional.
She donned the uniform with practiced ease and sat at the vanity nearby.
Clothes done; time for hair.
Her preferred style: twintails.
Gather the locks on either side, tie with ribbons.
Servants used to handle hair and clothes, but she'd started doing it solo sometime back.
No special reason.
'All set.'
She checked herself in the mirror.
Long red hair fell neatly.
The uniform strained to contain her curves, flawless.
She gave her reflection a thorough once-over, then stepped out.
Even early, people bustled about.
"Good morning, miss. Sleep well?"
Passersby bowed one by one.
Her noble rank and position as second-in-command of the estate demanded respect.
"Yeah. You all sleep okay?"
She returned the greetings warmly as she descended the stairs to the first floor.
Another positive shift.
"Miss, you're here?"
Click. She opened a door; the man inside bowed.
One of the estate's dedicated chefs.
"Morning. Food ready?"
"Yes. But... eating so simply every time—won't it leave you undernourished?"
He ventured cautiously.
A burger-style sandwich, fruit, water.
Far too spartan for a noble lady's meal.
"I'm fine. Gotta eat light to stay nimble. Appreciate the concern."
She sat and picked up the sandwich.
Breakfast was always simple, eaten by hand, no utensils.
A rule since becoming the Crown Prince's escort two years back.
No point fussing with silverware for a quick bite.
Lazy, mostly.
"Ekyon."
As she finished, a beautiful noblewoman entered.
Age had barely touched her youthful looks.
Ella Claudius.
The uniformed woman was Ekyon Claudius.
Ten years since they'd first met the Crown Prince.
"Yes, Mother. Sleep well?"
"Yes. Another sandwich? To keep that figure, you need more substantial fare..."
Ella asked pityingly.
Too meager for maintaining such luscious curves.
"I eat properly at lunch and dinner. No worries."
She'd said it countless times.
Ekyon just gave an awkward smile and stood.
"Take care. Your father's been asking after you—we'll need to arrange leave soon."
"Already time for that?"
Ekyon tilted her head.
She spent most of the year at the capital villa, but she was the Duke's daughter.
Visiting home was expected.
So she'd return for a few months annually.
Though lately, those stays had shortened.
"Yes, dear. It's that time."
"Got caught up with Crown Prince duties. I'll ask today and sort the schedule."
Ekyon finished her goodbyes and headed out.
She commuted on foot.
Could've taken a carriage, but walking woke her up.
An hour's stroll doubled as exercise.
"Good day?"
Arriving at her destination, two men guarding the massive gates greeted her.
A castle within a castle, a city within the city.
Gatekeepers to the Imperial Palace—and knights.
"Morning. You guys work nonstop—tough gig. Mind if I head in?"
"Of course. Enter."
"Thanks."
Ekyon bowed politely and passed through the open gates.
Duke's daughter, Crown Prince's escort knight.
High status, high rank—but no arrogance like her younger days. Just courtesy.
So even when lustful stares pricked her back.
Even when palace men threw wolfish glances.
She brushed them off demurely.
'Feels better this way.'
Figuring out who got honorifics and who didn't was a hassle.
Etiquette meant shifting speech—too annoying.
So polite speech for all.
Unless you'd piled up titles, position got awkward with age.
One exception, though.
"You're here?"
Deep in the palace grounds, at the Crown Prince's quarters: his exclusive maid.
White-haired Antiope.
Long, straight white hair.
A body so violent it threatened to burst her navy uniform, like Ekyon's.
Demonkin, yet blooming with allure that drew suitors aplenty.
"Yeah. Hey. Crown Prince around?"
Ekyon glanced about.
Fellow escort and friend—casual speech flowed easy.
"He's bathing at the moment."
Antiope smiled softly.
Years together like school chums had built real fondness, easy rapport.
"Ah... that's why you're out here. All quiet?"
"Peaceful. But things are about to get hectic. Not for us, but everyone around."
"Hectic? Why? Some VIP from a neighbor country?"
Ekyon cocked her head; Antiope beckoned.
Come closer.
She did; Antiope whispered in her ear.
"His Highness is about to undergo his coming-of-age rite."
Ten years since I'd resolved to change.
Focused on building strength, time flew by.
Magic improved too.
I'd all but mastered my Unique Magic's nature.
Social debuts for noble kids.
The Demonkin slave emancipation decree, prepped over eight or nine years.
Plenty had happened.
'They've grown so much.'
I'd grown, but so had Ekyon and Antiope waiting outside.
They stood tall even next to the Emperor.
Not just stacked—game-world beauties fit the word perfectly.
"Here, have some tea. Careful, it's hot."
Orpheus sat across, offering a cup.
Tea brewed by the Emperor herself—deeper reverence required.
"Thank you."
I sipped, meeting her gaze.
Over ten years, not a hint of age.
Seemed even younger.
"My son. You've grown so well into a fine young man."
"Yeah. Quite a bit, huh?"
"Yes. You could take the throne in my stead. Fancy it? I could abdicate today."
Abdicate: hand over the crown while alive.
In other words, become Emperor.
"Whoa, no. Don't. Too much pressure—I'd bolt."
I waved it off; Orpheus beamed.
"My boy's picked up a knack for jokes. Those mongrels outside are clamoring to be king."
Nothing to say; I chuckled awkwardly.
Her arrogance toward foreign royals was reassuring... and terrifying.
"No idea. Never met 'em."
"No need. They're less than my subjects—ignore the trash."
One word, and she ramped up the royals-bashing.
Just getting warmed up.
I nodded along each time.
Hearing her out, I started thinking she had a point.
'This is dizzying.'
Brainwashing by skewed info?
Head foggy from the constant stream.
"Oh, right. Your coming-of-age rite's soon."
Chatting away, Orpheus gasped and switched topics.
Sweet relief.
"Yeah. Birthday's coming up."
Heart pounded even answering.
First time in either life—exciting, nerve-wracking.
So I'd asked for simple.
Just a few close folks, low-key.
"You wanted it modest, right?"
Of course Orpheus knew.
But her tone suggested otherwise.
"You remember?"
"How could I forget something so vital? But... I'd like to do it differently from your vision. Will you allow it?"
The Emperor asking permission?
Absurd mismatch, but fit her to a T.
Son-obsessed as she was.
Plus, genuine remorse in her eyes.
Too guilty to nix it just 'cause I disliked.
"No need to apologize. If Mother thinks it's best, go ahead. I'm fine."
"Thank you for understanding."
Orpheus sighed in relief, smiling.
"So, how're you planning it?"
"First, imperial decree to summon the nobles. Details on the day—bear with me a bit."
"Yes, Mother."
I nodded, no real complaints.
Thinking it over, Emperors needed pomp, face.
My rite was a mega-event.
Prime excuse to rally nobles.
'My bad.'
Talking with Orpheus sparked realizations.
Regretted not thinking of it sooner.
Still, what event was she keeping secret?
"So, what's the plan? Can't you tell me?"
"The rite? Meant to surprise you, keep it hush..."
Orpheus trailed off, groaning.
Weighing whether to spill.
One minute, three.
Groaned it out, then spoke.
"We're doing Bitch Selection."