The palace bells hadn't rung yet, but soft morning light spilled lazily through the embroidered curtains of the royal chambers. The pale-pink glow of dawn kissed the silken sheets where Princess Seraphina Albinos lay sprawled like she owned the entire bed—and she did.

Her pink nightgown clung to her voluptuous frame, the satin stretched tight over her breasts as if the fabric itself was begging for mercy. Every slow breath made the gown rise and fall, her cleavage deepening, threatening to spill free if she rolled the wrong way.

"Princess."

The voice was low, firm, and disciplined—the kind of tone that didn't ask but commanded.

Seraphina groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow. "Mmmnnn… not yet. Too early. Go away, Nivara."

Her demon maid stood at the side of the bed, her figure a sharp contrast against the soft pink hues of the chamber. Nivara was breathtaking: purple skin smooth like polished amethyst, Two elegant horns curled upward from her head, their shape strong and regal, framing the cascade of her midnight-black hair that spilled down in glossy waves. Her eyes, a piercing crimson, seemed to burn with secrets, made sharper still by the glint of the long, blood-red jewel earrings that swayed against her cheeks.

She wore no maid's uniform—she hated them. Instead, a clinging charcoal blue dress sculpted her body like a second skin. The high collar rose to her neck, concealing every trace of bare flesh, yet the glossy fabric hugged each curve with merciless precision. The swell of her bust pressed tightly against the smooth material, her narrow waist cinched in before flaring into the full, powerful outline of her hips. Even standing still, she radiated dangerous allure..

Her crimson eyes narrowed. "It's already the Sixth Strike of Terrin. Your lessons begin before the Seventh. Get up."

"Nooo." Seraphina kicked her legs under the sheets like a child throwing a tantrum, her nightgown riding up dangerously high on her thighs. "Five more minutes. Just five!"

Nivara sighed. This routine was older than both of them cared to count. She had been with the princess since she was a little girl—saved by the queen herself when the world only saw demons as objects. For Nivara, serving here wasn't duty. It was life. She had vowed long ago to protect Seraphina, to treat her as more than a royal to bow to. In her heart, this spoiled princess was her little sister.

She leaned down, her cleavage spilling forward as she tugged at the sheets. "Five minutes means you'll ask for ten. Then twenty. And then you'll miss breakfast again. Up. Now."

Seraphina peeked out from the pillow, golden hair a tangled halo around her face, lips pouting. "You're bossy in the mornings, Nini."

The nickname made Nivara's brows twitch. "Don't call me that."

"But I like it. Nini. My big, scary, purple Nini." Seraphina giggled, then yawned, stretching her arms over her head. The nightgown's straps slipped down her shoulders, baring even more creamy skin, and her breasts shifted under the silk, heavy and teasing.

Nivara forced her eyes back up. Discipline. Always discipline. Even if her princess looked like sin wrapped in lace. "Sit up. You need to be cleaned and dressed."

"Mmm. Cleaned." Seraphina sat up slowly, deliberately, her gown tightening across her chest as she arched her back in a lazy stretch. "Nini, sometimes I think you just like stripping me naked."

Nivara's cheeks darkened, though her voice stayed calm. "It's my duty. Nothing more."

"Liar," Seraphina teased, grinning wickedly. "You enjoy it."

She didn't resist when Nivara stepped closer, fingers slipping under the delicate straps of her gown. With practiced care, the demon slid the satin down, baring soft skin inch by inch. Seraphina shivered at the morning air, though her playful smile didn't fade.

The gown pooled at her waist before slipping lower, leaving her completely exposed. Her breasts were enormous, heavy globes that bounced slightly as she shifted. Her nipples were a dusky pink, already hard from the cool breeze. Below, her hips flared wide, thighs thick and smooth as marble, every curve shouting indulgence.

Nivara fetched a basin of warm, perfumed water prepared earlier, dipping a cloth inside. "Hold still."

Seraphina wrinkled her nose. "Cold?"

"No. Warm."

The first touch of the damp cloth made her sigh, leaning back like she was enjoying every second. Nivara wiped her shoulders, then moved lower, trailing the cloth between the deep valley of her breasts, circling carefully under them where sweat gathered in the night.

"You're too gentle," Seraphina murmured, smirking. "It almost feels nice."

"It's supposed to feel nice."

"Mm. You sound like my mother when she pretends not to like sweets."

Nivara ignored her jab and continued, wiping down her stomach, then her thighs, her wide hips shifting under the maid's steady hand. Each motion was routine, but with Seraphina, routine always felt like temptation.

When her body gleamed faintly from the scented water, Nivara set the cloth aside. "Stand. Time for your dress."

Seraphina hopped up, completely naked, her breasts swaying with the sudden movement. She stretched again, deliberately, laughing when Nivara sighed in exasperation. "Don't act so scandalized, Nini. You've seen me like this since I was a baby."

"And you weren't nearly this difficult back then," Nivara muttered, picking up the black dress laid neatly on a chair.

The dress itself was art: glossy, tight, a masterpiece of tailoring. When she held it up, Seraphina's eyes sparkled. "Ooh. Dangerous. I like it."

"It's not supposed to be about what you like."

"Everything is about what I like. I'm a princess."

Nivara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Arms up."

Seraphina obeyed—sort of. She raised her arms slowly, wiggling her fingers as if mocking a priestess in prayer. Nivara slid the black fabric down her body. The material caught on her breasts first, stretching tight as if struggling to contain their weight. With a soft creak, it settled around them, lifting and shaping until her cleavage looked impossibly deep.

"Gods," Seraphina laughed, peeking down at herself. "It's like my boobs are weapons."

Nivara smirked, "They already were."

"Oh-ho! So you do notice."

Ignoring her, Nivara tugged the dress lower, smoothing it over the princess's waist, cinching the curve in sharply before letting it flare wide over her hips. The glossy fabric hugged every line of her ass, clinging so tightly that even the faintest sway of her hips looked hypnotic.

Seraphina twisted to look at herself in the mirror, lips curling into a sly smile. "I look like I could conquer kingdoms without lifting a sword."

"You could," Nivara replied simply.

The princess laughed, spinning once. The dress creaked faintly, her breasts straining against the glossy prison. "If my future husband doesn't faint when he sees me, I'll be disappointed."

"You don't need a husband," Nivara said quietly, adjusting the collar. "You need people who see you as more than a body."

Seraphina paused, her smile softening. For all her spoiled theatrics, she knew the truth behind those words. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the demon's waist, pressing her cheek against her chest. "I already have that. I have you, Nini."

Nivara froze for a moment before slowly returning the embrace, her hand resting gently on the princess's golden hair.

The silence lingered, warm and fragile.

Then Seraphina ruined it, as always, by grinning up with a mischievous sparkle. "But you do like stripping me naked."

Nivara groaned. "Princess—"

Seraphina laughed, hopping back and twirling again in her dress. "Come on, Nini. Let's find Mama. I need to show her how dangerously pretty I look today!"

Nivara shook her head, but a faint smile curved her lips as she followed.

---

The corridor was quiet, save for the echo of Aiden's footsteps. His arms stretched above his head in a wide yawn, lips curling as he muttered under his breath.

"Man… this place is huge. Grimclaw palace could fit inside here twice over."

The polished marble floor reflected faint glimmers of early light, tall windows flooding the hall with a soft golden hue. Aiden scratched the back of his neck, his hair messy from just waking up.

Turning the corner, he slowed.

From the opposite end, Queen Alethea appeared, walking gracefully, her long gown whispering across the floor. Her poise was calm, but her eyes immediately softened when they landed on him.

"Sir Aiden." Her voice carried that warm authority. "Good morning."

He offered a polite nod. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Her lips curved. "Did you sleep well? No discomfort? And… your wife Luna—is she alright?"

Aiden chuckled lightly. "Yeah. We slept fine. Luna's as clingy as ever, but she's good. Honestly, she's been a lot more relaxed since we got here."

"That's good to hear," the Queen replied, genuine relief slipping through her regal tone.

Aiden said, "It's still early… The others are likely resting. Lysandra has already woken, but she is… being prepared."

Alethea's eyes glimmered with amusement, though she didn't comment further.

And then—

"Mother!!"

The sweet, playful voice rang out like a bell, cutting through the air.

Aiden blinked as a figure rushed in from behind the Queen.

Princess Seraphina.

She practically leapt the last few steps, arms sliding around Alethea from behind, pressing herself against her mother's back with a girlish giggle. "Mother, good morning~!" She squeezed her tight, planting a kiss on her cheek without hesitation.

The Queen's composure softened instantly. She turned her head, smiling warmly. "Sera…"

Her hand rested over her daughter's clasped ones, fingers brushing affectionately.

"Mmhm!" Seraphina hummed, eyes closed in happiness as she hugged tighter. "You're warm as always."

But when her lashes lifted, her gaze drifted forward—landing squarely on Aiden.

Her breath caught.

For the first time that morning, her playful hum stilled.

Her eyes locked on him, unblinking, and his on hers.

Time seemed to freeze. The corridor, the marble, the golden light—all of it faded into something distant. There was only the weight of his gaze meeting hers, steady and unshaken.

Her cheek flushed, the pink rising quickly as if betraying her heart. The faintest draft whispered through the hallway, ruffling her hair like a mischievous hand, and yet she couldn't look away.

Aiden's chest tightened at the sudden shift. He hadn't expected it, but something in the princess's expression—her sudden silence, her wide eyes, that nervous flutter in her throat—pulled him in before he even realized it.

The Queen noticed immediately.

Her daughter, normally so loud, so unabashedly spoiled, was uncharacteristically quiet. Her arms still clung to her mother's waist, but her lips didn't move, no teasing, no whining. Just silence.

Alethea's brow softened as realization flickered across her face.

"…Sera?" she murmured, her tone curious.

That was when Nivara arrived.

The demon maid's heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she came to her lady's side. Her tall, curvaceous form drew attention without effort, her purple skin gleaming faintly in the morning sun.

And though her expression remained composed, her sharp eyes instantly took in the scene—the frozen stillness, the princess's unusual silence, the blush heating her cheeks.

It took only a heartbeat for her to understand.

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END OF CHAPTER : 106 : SERAPHINA ALBINOS AND NIVARA NARMUDA!

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