Imperial Maids and the Gods' Summons
The banquet was drawing to a close.
The glasses on the table were already empty, and as the attendants approached to refill them, she lightly blocked them with the back of her hand.
"I think I should head out now."
"Already?"
The Emperor straightened up from the backrest.
The light filtering through the stained-glass ceiling had sunk into a deep purple hue. The sunset had long vanished, and night had deepened considerably.
"...It's late."
"Way past late."
The Emperor flicked his finger through the air once.
"If you're heading back at this hour, the elves would have to mobilize again."
"..."
"It's late, so stay the night."
The Elf Queen and her entourage were already slipping away toward the annex. The dwarf and beastkin representatives had vanished at some point.
She let out a short breath.
"Ah... alright then, if you'll excuse me."
"Smart choice. The guest rooms in my palace aren't half bad, from what I've heard."
The Emperor gestured to a soldier in armor standing nearby.
"Escort them to the eastern room in the VIP quarters. I picked it out myself."
"Yes, sir!"
The soldier bowed deeply and extended his open palm—an invitation to follow.
It was a long walk from the banquet hall.
Corridors, arcades, courtyards. More corridors, arcades, gardens.
The castle felt like an entire city block.
The soldier led her to the eastern end of a separate annex building, a bit removed from the main structure.
As the door opened, a rush of inner air hit her first.
Faint floral scent. Warm beeswax from candles. The plush feel of thick carpet underfoot.
"..."
Her feet paused at the threshold.
A massive bed dominated the room's center.
Big enough for three people. A canopy draped over it like a tent, with pairs of silver candelabras neatly arranged on the bedside tables flanking it.
Dark tapestries on the walls, a small chandelier on the ceiling, and embers evenly glowing in the fireplace.
"Your Highness honors us—"
"No need for that."
The soldier hesitated, then bowed his head.
"...Understood. Rest well."
The door closed.
She was alone in the room's heart.
Perching on the bed's edge, the mattress sank deeply, dropping her knees low.
"..."
At this point, comparisons to five-star hotels felt pointless.
She was just about to shed the stuffy suit when—
Knock knock.
A rap at the door.
"Ah, yes. Come in."
The door opened, and three women filed in one after another.
All dressed in black dresses with white aprons, white headbands, skirts falling to their ankles, and neat black shoes.
They closed the door and immediately dipped into a slight curtsy in unison.
"We've come to attend to you."
"...Pardon?"
The woman in the center stepped forward. She had the calmest face of the three.
"By His Majesty's command. He said to serve our precious guest with utmost care."
"No, really, I'm fine. I can sleep alone."
"We must help you unwind from your travels. Isn't this customary on Earth?"
"We don't do that. Not where I'm from."
"Then all the more reason to indulge while you're here."
The three advanced another step each.
Now just three steps away.
Still perched on the bed, she raised both hands.
"Seriously, it's oka—"
"First, we'll prepare your nightclothes."
The center woman approached the bedside table at the foot of the bed and opened a drawer.
The youngest on the right headed to the fireplace to check the logs, while the one on the left began setting out tea utensils on a small side table.
"...No, the tea—"
"It'll help you relax. You must be exhausted from today."
"..."
Steam rose gently from the teapot.
The center woman lifted a silk nightgown from the table, holding it up with both hands.
Pale beige. A long, loose dress form, long enough to wrap from shoulders to toes in one go.
"This way, please."
"..."
At this point, resignation was the precise word.
She took a sip of the warm tea.
The flavor wasn't overpowering—soft and subtle. The tension in her shoulders eased a bit.
As she finished the cup, the center woman spoke again.
"We've drawn your bath."
"..."
"The banquet's food scents have clung to your clothes. A quick soak would do you good."
"I'll just sleep—"
"The spice aroma is quite strong. Lying down like that would keep you awake."
That was true enough.
Even the ends of her hair carried a faint meaty whiff.
"...Fine, just a quick one then."
"This way."
The center woman opened a door at the back of the bedroom.
Beyond was the bathroom.
Size of two rooms combined.
Smooth marble floor. A half-recessed tub in the center, faint steam rising from the water's surface.
White petals and small green leaves floated serenely; scented candles ringed the edge.
"..."
She exhaled softly.
The three women approached silently, positioning themselves to her sides and front.
The tallest gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"We'll handle your clothes—"
"I'll undress myself. I can do it."
"His Majesty's orders. No troubling our honored guest's hands."
"..."
No room for refusal.
The jacket slipped off her shoulders.
The tie around her neck loosened.
Every brush of their fingertips near her nape sent chills up her spine.
She fixed her gaze on a ceiling corner. The chandelier's light stabbed her eyes, but she couldn't close them.
Shirt buttons undid one by one from the top.
Cool air seeped between her skin.
Belt unbuckled; suit pants dropped to her ankles.
Just the final layer left.
"...We'll handle this too."
"No, really—"
"If you'll excuse us."
Fingertips slipped inside the waistband.
Not shame, exactly—but a sensation like a broken machine, crawling up her spine.
Her body fully exposed, threadbare in the air.
Slender, narrow shoulders. Lean back. Stark bone outlines under pale skin.
The three drew in breath simultaneously.
"...Heavens. That skin..."
"How can hair shine like that..."
"I could volunteer as personal attendant."
"..."
Her ears burned crimson.
Clinging to the awareness of being a thirty-two-year-old man had its limits.
She couldn't guess what she looked like in their eyes right now.
"I'll get in quick."
"Yes."
Her toes dipped into the tub.
Warm water rose over ankles, calves, knees.
Sinking in slowly, heat enveloped her up to the shoulders.
"..."
A long breath escaped naturally.
This, she had to admit. Better than the bed, even.
But that brief satisfaction didn't last.
The center woman knelt at the tub's edge.
She rubbed soft cloth with soap into a lather.
"We'll wash your back."
"...Uh, I can—"
"We'll gather your hair so it doesn't touch."
The young maid on the right collected her long silver locks with both hands, lifting them. Fingertips grazed her nape.
Her skin twitched.
"..."
She hugged her knees, burying her face between.
Soapy cloth glided slowly down her mid-back. Warm water and soap scent trailed from shoulders to waist.
She glanced sideways.
The left maid held a small basin of viscous pale pink liquid.
"For your hair."
"...Hair's mine—"
"Already tied up."
A soft chuckle from the young maid behind.
"Heavens, not a single tangle end to end."
"Hair this healthy cuts our work in half."
"..."
Three pairs of hands moved from above, beside, behind all at once.
Soap swept her back again; shoulders and arms cleaned.
Pink liquid soaked evenly into her hair; the brushing was so gentle it embarrassed her more.
Even fingertips neatened with a small brush.
This was resignation.
Not resisting was fastest.
Only then would this bizarre kindness end, letting her hit the bed sooner.
"..."
She sighed lowly.
Out of the bath, the center woman wrapped her in a massive white towel.
Seated on a low chair by the tub, three sets of hands descended at once.
Left maid on hair, young one on arms and hands, center on back and shoulders.
Towels pressed firmly, absorbing moisture without rubbing. Careful not to damage her hair, she could tell.
That made it even more absurd.
"We'll dry your hair with magic."
The left maid raised both hands over her head.
A gentle breeze flowed between her palms.
Whooo.
Not hot, not cold—uncannily perfect temperature.
The wind curved through silver strands, plucking only moisture. Tiny droplets scattered in the air.
In minutes, her hair was fully dry to the ends. Not a tangle.
Faster and quieter than any Earth hairdryer.
"...Bring this to Korea and it'd be a hit."
"Pardon?"
"...Nothing."
The center maid retrieved the silk nightgown from the table, along with a small lace-trimmed white undergarment.
"..."
Her hand shot out reflexively.
But before she could grab it, the two at her sides gently pinned her arms.
The young maid ahead knelt without hesitation on one knee.
"Lift your foot, please."
"...I'll dress—"
"Left foot."
Cool, smooth fabric slid up her ankle.
Over the knee to her waist, settling seamlessly.
No time to protest.
Then the thin silk nightgown layered over.
Arms lifted into sleeves; two cords at the back tied firmly.
The sensation raced up her spine undiluted.
She felt like a mannequin in a shop window.
Somewhere along her spine, a faint crack—like flimsy pride shattering.
"All done."
"..."
The bedroom door opened.
The room had changed again from when she'd entered.
Fireplace embers perfectly tended; fresh candles glowing softly on the tables.
Bed sheets taut without a wrinkle; silver pitcher and clear glass by the pillow.
Canopy drapes hung long in all directions.
A fresh carpet even laid the path to the bed barefoot.
"Sleep well."
"...Yeah."
The three curtsied lightly in unison and glided out soundlessly.
Door closed.
She sat motionless on the bed's edge for a while.
Slowly lay back.
Mattress sank once more.
Sheets' touch against skin drained the last of her tension.
"..."
She gazed up at the canopy.
Recapped the day in bullet points.
Surrounded by suits at the Gate.
Dragged to the elf capital.
Waited thirty minutes in a clearing.
Portaled to the Human Empire.
Parried a sword the moment the golden door opened.
Grilled for info over two hours in the conference hall.
Drank; bonded with the Emperor.
Guest room.
Up to here, manageable.
The alliance meeting was just mental gymnastics.
The problem: the final two hours.
Three maids.
Bath. Warm hands. Soft cloths. Magic-dried hair. White undergarment.
Fingers tying the nightgown cords.
Not the work or meeting—the act of being served.
A lifetime first.
"..."
She pulled the covers to her chin.
Harder than the meeting. Than blocking the sword. Than clearing blood-clot monsters.
Those two hours were the toughest.
Sincerely.
Rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
Something inside her felt broken.
Didn't know what. But broken.
Thoughts ended there.
Her body sank first.
Between deep inhales and exhales, consciousness faded slowly.
The next morning.
By her standards, she'd woken quite late.
The sun was well up.
Guided to a small receiving room set for breakfast, the Emperor sat at one side.
"Sleep well?"
"...Yeah."
"Your face doesn't look refreshed."
"...Your maids are intense."
The Emperor laughed heartily again.
"Picked three on purpose."
"..."
An unfamiliar old man sat beside the Emperor.
Deep purple priestly robes falling to his ankles.
A round silver emblem on his chest. Hair nearly all white, deep wrinkles folding at his eyes.
His voice was serene.
"Greetings, traveler from Earth."
"...Hello."
"Just an old priest from the Empire's church."
The Emperor chimed in from the side.
"Church sent this guy at dawn to wake me himself. On his own two feet."
"...If your elders are moving like that, it's no ordinary matter."
"You get it."
The old priest neatly folded his hands on his lap.
"The church has one request."
"Sure."
"The gods... wish to meet you."
Her fork paused over the plate.
"...Gods."
"Yes."
"Real gods?"
"Yes."
"..."
A casual remark from the elves days ago resurfaced.
The gods controlling dimensional rifts, so only mob-level stuff leaking through for now.
This was an invite to meet the source.
"Fine by me."
The answer came quicker than expected.
Gate essence, dimensional repair principles, why Earth got dragged in.
Coming this far and leaving without answers wasn't her style.
"Let's go now."
"Now?"
"Yeah. Slept it off already."
The Emperor leaned back.
"Get some good answers. I'm curious too."
"Got it."
Escaping the castle took another age.
A carriage waited in the entrance plaza.
The old priest boarded first; she took the seat opposite.
The carriage lurched into motion.
Cityscapes flowed past the window.
People weaving between stone buildings, market stalls lining streets, shops tanning magic beast hides in rows.
A street ripped straight from fantasy.
As that scenery faded, a massive structure crested into view on the city's outskirts—a hilltop behemoth.
Seven white stone spires piercing the sky.
A great round stained-glass window fronted the main building, sunlight shattering into rainbow shards across the plaza.
The carriage halted before the plaza.
"This way."
Following the old priest inside the main nave.
The ceiling loomed dizzyingly high.
A few devotees knelt in prayer, but they bypassed them.
A small door beside the nave led to a side chamber.
A modest prayer room.
A single round carpet in the center. Small cushions ideal for kneeling atop it. Seven candelabras on the walls.
Ceiling domed; a single beam of sunlight speared down, spotlighting the carpet's heart.
"Kneel here and empty your mind."
"...That's it?"
"Close your eyes, calm your spirit. They will call you."
"..."
The old priest bowed his head and exited. Door shut softly.
Alone in the room's center.
She knelt on the carpet.
"..."
Normally, she'd scoff and bail.
Not today.
No answers here, and who knew how many more months of wild goose chases.
Eyes closed.
Breath steadied slow.
Inhale. Exhale.
Mana's flow rippled quietly deep within.
A long line from crown to toes.
The instant it stabilized—
Air lightened all around.
Carpet's texture vanished under toes, knees, palms.
Candle flickers, floor's weight, belfry echoes—gone.
All of it.
Eyes opened.
Prayer room vanished.
Endless white void everywhere.
No walls, ceiling, floor—boundaries unknowable.
Yet her feet firmly planted on something.
Only her breath echoed faintly.
"..."
A heavy sensation crashed over her skin at once.
Unprecedented kind.
Even the Elf Queen's mana felt lighter.
The Human Emperor's power never pierced this deep.
This wasn't mana.
Not pressing skin—but crushing straight into her core self.
Slowly, she raised her head.
Across the white expanse.
Multiple gazes fixed squarely on her.