10:00 PM
Glenn walked alone through the palace corridors, his footsteps echoing softly on the polished marble. The silver candelabras adorning the walls cast a warm, flickering light, projecting dancing shadows that seemed to whisper ancient secrets.
Some servants, busy with their tasks, glanced at him out of the corner of their eyes as he passed, noticing that his path led toward the queen's private chambers. There was an air of curiosity and respect in their gazes, but no one dared to question or interrupt his journey.
The castle was a masterpiece of demonic engineering, a blend of elegance and power that defied comprehension. Towering columns, carved with ancient golden runes, supported vaulted ceilings adorned with frescoes depicting tales of past conquests and glories. Stained glass windows filtered the light, creating shimmering patterns that spread across the floor like a living mosaic. Everything there exuded grandeur, but also a certain air of mystery, as if the castle itself were a living being, watching and guarding its secrets.
When Glenn finally reached the doors to Selene's chambers, he paused for a moment.
"Phew... here goes nothing, big guy!" he said, slapping his cheeks twice.
The doors were made of noble wood, reinforced with cast iron details—imposing, almost intimidating. Taking a deep breath, he extended his hand and pushed them open slowly. The sound of creaking hinges echoed down the hallway, and then he saw it.
The opulence of Queen Selene's chambers was overwhelming. The space was so vast it seemed to consume the entire floor, a burst of colors, textures, and lights that challenged the senses. The walls, draped in crimson silk, shimmered under the light of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling like captured stars. The marble floor gleamed, reflecting the endless Persian rugs, their vibrant colors creating a hypnotic contrast with the immaculate white stone.
To the right, an imposing ebony table, adorned with gold details, displayed silverware and crystal glassware, each piece a work of art in itself. To the left, a spacious and airy area, with velvet cushions and gold-threaded upholstered chairs, seemed to invite conversation and etiquette. And at the far end, a carved wooden podium, decorated with ancient runes, stood before a massive mirror—a place dedicated to refining the art of oratory.
Golden runes glimmered faintly on the imposing walls of the room.
As he took his first step inside, an overwhelming pressure hit him like a runaway truck. Glenn groaned softly but endured, unleashing his inner energy to resist. His breathing stabilized, and after a few seconds, he assessed that he had harmonized with the atmosphere, finally entering the queen's chambers.
"Where is she?"
Glenn stepped in, closing the door behind him, still awestruck by the room's opulence. But Selene was nowhere to be found.
Then, a faint sound caught his attention. Two ankles were swinging in the air from behind the back of a sofa.
"Selene?" he called, but there was no response.
Glenn walked toward the left section, but his body froze when the scene fully revealed itself before his eyes.
A figure was sprawled on the wide, plush sofa.
Selene lay on her back, her disheveled white hair spread like a stream over the red velvet upholstery. She wore a short red silk skirt, just below the curve of her bottom, matching the color of the sofa's fabric. Her arms were relaxed at her sides, as if the weight of the crown had finally brought her down. She breathed slowly, her eyes closed in a light sleep, and even in her state of exhaustion, there was an aura of majesty around her, as if even the air bowed in reverence.
Glenn swallowed dryly, the sound almost imperceptible under the heavy silence of the room. He approached, his steps nearly silent on the polished marble. He stopped a few meters away, observing her for a moment, hesitant.
Glenn's mind momentarily shut down, as if it were recording this moment on every possible subconscious level for future recollection.
Clear signs of exhaustion emanated from Selene: her slouched posture, her arms sprawled, her stillness, and the odd way she slept with her legs up.
'She must have had tough days.'
'No, what am I thinking? I've had tough days!! With her throwing me to the wolves!'
'But a queen's routine must be unbearable, not to mention probably boring.'
'But she deserves it. Her pleasure is seeing me suffer; it's been like that since the day we met.'
'But she looks like an angel lying there so defenseless.'
'Though she could still crush me with a thought.'
'Actually, how many would survive if they entered here uninvited? I think anyone else would've already become Sleipnir's food.'
"Glenn...?" a slow, melodious voice pulled Glenn from his turbulent thoughts.
Selene opened her eyes slowly, turning her head to look at him.
"You came," she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion.
'What do you mean, "you came"? Was it even possible not to come? Who's the lunatic who wouldn't answer the queen's summons?'
"Yes," Glenn replied awkwardly, standing before the scene.
"Yawn..." Selene yawned, still mustering the courage to sit up.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, yes..." she said, her face still buried in the pillow. "I am the queen, after all."
"You don't look so great."
"Hmm..." she grunted lazily. "I was just going over some empire plans in my mind."
"Going over empire plans?" Glenn questioned. "It looked more like you were napping!"
"No, no!" she denied vehemently. "When a queen says she was going over plans in her mind, she was!"
"Right, right... But does going over plans include drooling on the cushions?"
Selene lazily lifted her head, examining the pillow where her head had rested, now bearing a faint wet mark. Shamelessly, she flipped the pillow over and buried her face back into its comfort.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Tsk..." Glenn clicked his tongue. "Seriously? Flipping the pillow and pretending nothing happened?"
"Uh-huh... nothing happened!"
'What the hell is going on here!!!' Glenn thought.
"You said you wanted to see me," he interrupted the strange conversation.
"Yes... we haven't seen each other in... three weeks," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow. "Since you received your weapons."
"Well... I've been busy fighting half the psychopaths in the empire these past few weeks," he said pointedly.
"Yes... yes..." she replied, completely ignoring the criticism.
"Phew..." Selene sighed, gathering the strength to sit up.
Glenn furrowed his brow as he noticed Selene's exhaustion.
'I've never seen her like this. Did something happen?'
"Selene, are you really okay? If you want, I can come back another time."
"No... it's fine... I'd be better if Lesley had come to fulfill her duties."
"Master Lesley? What happened to her? What duties? I always thought she was a stalker, following you everywhere. Just don't tell her I said that!"
A small laugh escaped Selene's lips at Glenn's comment.
"She's on an official mission."
"Hm... And the duties?"
A brief silence followed before a timid response.
"Massage!" she said almost inaudibly, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"What?"
"Massage..."
"Huh??"
"Massage!!!" she said louder.
Incredulity spread across Glenn's face.
"You're in this state because Master Lesley didn't give you a massage today?"
He received a positive nod, Selene's face still rubbing against the pillow.
"Seriously? You don't have a better excuse?"
"If a queen says it, it's final. You should've gotten used to that by now."
There are moments in life when we often don't understand why we act a certain way. Glenn would remember this scene as one of those moments.
Almost instinctively, whether because he'd been caught up in the conversation or due to a lapse of madness and lack of neurons, his body moved involuntarily. His arms reached out to Selene's back, and his hands firmly gripped the queen's tense shoulders.
"Glenn!?" Selene asked, startled.
'Damn, what did I just do!!!?'