Garden of Vanity.
Just as the young genius of the Atlas Institute stood frozen, her worldview being thoroughly rebuilt, another pair of somewhat weary eyes rose from the shadows and took in every movement of a certain adulterer.
Whether hunter or prey, in the end, both were animals.
And the female hunter immersed in a certain pleasure had clearly lost the vigilance she should have had.
A figure emerged from the shadows and stepped onto the stairs. Beneath the newborn sunlight, her soft cherry lips curled into a mocking arc as her raised white arm pushed open the bedroom doors.
As the weary Queen wrapped in a black Western dress entered the room, the figure on the bed, clearly having just "exercised," hurriedly yanked over a blanket to cover himself. He gave a dry cough, his voice slightly hoarse.
"Cough, Semiramis, how did you get in?"
"Naturally, to attend to you upon waking, my King."
The Assyrian Empress raised a hand to her chest and smiled faintly. Though she maintained a humble tone and posture, she carried the air of someone taking control as the guest.
Of course, calling her the "host" would not have been wrong either.
After all, this was indeed her bedroom.
Still, to show respect, the Empress had specifically vacated her finest chamber for the visiting King of Gods.
As she spoke, Semiramis seemed to catch a strange lingering scent in the air. She waved her hand before her nose, walked to the bed, casually opened the window, and let the breeze disperse the remaining odor.
Then, having purified the room, the Empress nodded with satisfaction and stepped to the bedside.
"So, how did you sleep last night, my King?"
A fair, delicate arm lifted the hazy gauze curtains. Her graceful figure leaned halfway against the