Chapter 189: Aroused by the Empress

Chapter 189: Chapter 189: Aroused by the Empress

"It’s an automatic response to walk beside you. Don’t mind me."

Giselle’s eyes narrowed.

"You’re being weird."

"I thought that’s why you want me?"

"..."

We kept walking.

The distance between the serving tables and the open space around the Empress was only thirty metres.

It felt longer.

Every step made the fragment under my ribs pull tighter, as if it could already feel the denser, older power standing at the centre of the room.

Thump!

Then the pulse in my chest simply stopped.

For one full second my heart forgot how to beat.

My feet locked.

The formal coat suddenly felt too tight across the shoulders.

The Hunger, which had been low and amused all evening, surged upward so hard I tasted blood.

Giselle turned at once.

"Hey—"

[ALERT!]

[Empress-class core detected]

[Density far exceeds previous samples]

[Absorption pathway forced open]

[Recommendation: Drain]

[Recommendation: Drain]

[Recommendation: Drain]

Yelena’s red eyes left the two women beside her and found me.

The ballroom ceased to exist.

Sound vanished.

The chandelier light flattened into a tunnel.

Giselle’s hand on my arm became distant pressure.

There was only the Empress: white hair like a sheet of ice, red dress, the calm, bottomless weight of a core that had ruled a sector for decades.

My body wanted to surge forward.

Hands around her throat.

Mouth on hers.

The Hunger screamed for the first real taste of something that size.

Arousal slammed through me so fast my vision edged white.

[Host arousal: 41% → 67% → 84%]

[Core resonance: Critical]

[Secondary limb responding]

[Warning: Public Execution Risk]

Giselle’s arm hooked through mine, hard, and yanked.

The world snapped back.

Chandelier. Voices. Perfume.

The low roar of a party that hadn’t actually stopped.

My heart kicked once, violent, then settled into a too-fast rhythm. Sweat had started under the formal collar.

Giselle’s voice was low and sharp.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Later."

"Revien—"

"Later."

I forced my legs to move.

She didn’t let go.

Instead, her hand slid from my upper arm down to my waist, fingers spreading against my side in a grip that was openly possessive.

Not the formal escort hold she had used earlier.

Lower. Clearer.

Every ranked woman in the nearest circle saw it.

The crowd parted for us without being asked.

Whispers moved like a current.

Draven stood a few paces from Yelena, two companions still on his arms, expression bright with the same pleased curiosity he had worn all night.

He watched us approach the way a man watches a play he has already bet money on.

I didn’t bow.

Giselle had coached me on short answers and clean posture.

She had not told me to lower my head before the Empress acknowledged me.

So I stopped at the proper distance, spine straight, Giselle’s hand still firm on my waist, and waited.

Yelena’s gaze travelled over me once, slow and exact.

Height. Shoulders.

The place where Giselle’s fingers pressed against my coat.

The exact set of my mouth.

The Hunger pushed again, less controlled than before.

[Empress core still within optimal range]

[Absorption yield estimate: Extreme]

[Host restraint: Unstable]

Giselle’s thumb pressed once against my side.

A private warning.

Yelena spoke for the first time.

Her voice was quieter than the room expected and somehow louder because of it.

"So this is the support."

Giselle’s answer came evenly.

"Yes, Mother."

"He is smaller than the recordings suggested."

"Recordings flatten depth."

Yelena’s eyes stayed on me.

"Explain the smile."

"Hmm?"

"The one you flashed at the camera while kissing my daughter."

The honest answer was that the Hunger had been satisfied for the first time since I arrived in this world.

The safe answer was shorter.

"Relief," I said.

"The alternative was watching people I care about die on that rooftop."

A small silence.

Draven made a low, amused sound that he did not bother to hide.

Yelena ignored him.

"Relief," she repeated.

"Do you feel that relief when my daughter stands this close?"

Giselle’s fingers tightened on my waist.

I kept my face empty.

"Sometimes," I said.

"It keeps changing according to the situation. For now, there’s nothing more."

"Yet."

"Yet," I agreed.

Another pause.

The women nearest us had stopped pretending to hold side conversations.

Ella stood in the second row of the circle, blue eyes bright with academic interest.

Sera was further back, blonde hair easy to track, expression unreadable.

Yelena took one step forward.

The air pressure changed.

My knees wanted to bend.

The tail, still mostly quiet after the earlier struggle, gave a single warning twitch against the base of my spine.

Giselle shifted her weight until her shoulder touched mine, another claim, visible to everyone.

Yelena noticed. Of course she noticed.

"You hold him like property, Giselle."

"I hold him like someone who still has pieces of me inside him," Giselle answered.

"Until those pieces are stable or returned, he stays where I can reach him."

"And if I decide the pieces should be removed tonight?"

"Then you will have to go through the person they are currently attached to."

The sentence left Giselle’s mouth without drama, as simple as a weather statement.

The fragment under my ribs pulsed once, hard, in what felt like agreement.

Yelena studied her daughter for a long moment.

Something that might have been approval or irritation moved behind the red eyes.

I couldn’t tell which.

Then she looked at me again.

"You will remain in Sector 5 for the full week Draven requested. You will not leave the city. You will present yourself for examination when summoned."

"Understood."

"If you break any of those conditions, the next conversation will not happen in a ballroom."

"Understood."

Yelena held my gaze for another three seconds, long enough for the Hunger to start climbing again, then turned her head a fraction.

"Draven."

"Yes, Yelena?"

"He is your responsibility while he is here. If he becomes a problem, you become the solution."

Draven placed a theatrical hand over his heart.

"I am wounded by the lack of trust. He will be a model guest."

"See that he is."

Yelena stepped back.

The invisible pressure eased.

Conversation around the circle restarted in careful layers.

The audience understood the first inspection was over.

I turned my gaze towards the daughter of the woman whose body my core wanted to drain.

Giselle didn’t remove her hand from my waist.

She steered me one half-step sideways, just enough to break the direct line with her mother, and spoke against my ear.

"You’re white."

"I noticed."

"What happened when she looked at you?"

I didn’t reply and moved my hands to her waist.