The banquet hall glittered under brilliant lights. Exquisitely translucent white tiles adorned the pristine white walls.

Tables draped in red cloths, carved with ornate patterns, held vibrant dishes and fine plates. Half-filled wine glasses dotted the surfaces.

The spacious hall held over a dozen tables. A wide central area was reserved for dancing and noble mingling.

The crowd buzzed with slight chaos. Yet this was noble decadence—no one cared about decorum.

Elegantly dressed men and women strolled, drinking or seeking dance partners.

"Among tonight's nobles, is there anyone you fancy?"

Emperor Aiken Takasha of the Lor Empire sat at a private table. Rarely attending such events, he had brought his two daughters. He smiled as he asked.

Golden hair tied in a simple shoulder-length ponytail framed his face. A hint of beard gave him a mid-thirties look. A hooked nose, deep-set blue eyes, and full lips defined his robust yet handsome features.

His words were for Mefia.

Mefia, of marriageable age, should have been betrothed to a noble of distinguished lineage and talent. But the Lor Empire was unique. The imperial family carried elven blood, granting longer lifespans. Aiken doted fiercely on his daughters. Having no son, he planned to pass the throne to one of them. Their status as Princesses far surpassed ordinary royal heirs. Naturally, neither Mefia nor Lucy wanted a younger brother. Though the empire never mandated male succession, female rulers were rare.

Normally, nobles would swarm the Emperor with flattery. But Aiken disliked it. After he dismissed them, no one approached. They knew his temper well. He rarely stayed long at such banquets.

"Fancy anyone? No."

Mefia stood beside her father. Her indifferent gaze swept coldly over the hall. She knew the question was hers.

Many nobles were handsome or beautiful. Raised with privilege, some had early political or business experience. Others became powerful warriors or Sorceresses through talent. But Mefia felt zero interest.

All were just annoying male creatures!

Sometime ago, she realized she only liked cute girls—not others. When nobles approached her with affection, she felt disgust. They said things like, "I'll make you happy," "Princess, you're stunning tonight," "Let me court you," or even "I want to lick your feet." Utterly revolting.

"As if they're worthy of me?"

For the throne, she couldn't tell her father she preferred girls. That meant no heirs. The Lor Empire's lineage would end with her branch. Aiken would never accept that. Mefia understood.

Because.

Sapphic love is perfect, but it bears no children.

But.

Even childless, sapphic love is still better.

Before, Mefia found daily joy and conquest with Shelley. Especially when her adorable catgirl Pet panted in her arms, calling "Master," crying for mercy, and clinging with coquettish whimpers. It was pure ecstasy.

Now, she had a new, cute youthful Vampire Princess. She’d even restrained herself from touching that sweet, innocent little thing. Marry some noble? She’d rather die quickly.

"Ahaha..."

"You, my dear, just have standards too high."

Unaware his daughter’s tastes had long twisted, Aiken sighed helplessly. He scanned the hall—several young nobles had caught his eye. But he wouldn’t force her. He’d wait. If Mefia liked even a poor commoner with decent merits, he’d consider it.

"What about you, Lucy?"

Though younger, Lucy was fair game now the topic arose.

"Since Sister isn’t rushing, neither am I."

"None of these nobles appeal to me."

She shielded herself behind her sister instantly. Lucy hadn’t exposed Mefia’s secret—not when she also fancied that cute Vampire Princess and beautiful girls. Even if not... if Father gave up on Mefia and pressured her instead, she’d be doomed. This deadlock had no solution. Clever as she was, Lucy didn’t know how to explain. Only stalling worked. The sisters shared perfect tacit understanding here.

"Don’t copy your sister."

"I heard you’ve been close to Count Kevin’s son lately?"

"What do you think of him?"

Aiken shook his head, disagreeing. Like a worried father, he cited uncertain rumors.

"Not at all."

"He clings to me."

"I never said I liked him~"

Lucy stated it flatly. She knew the truth—but mostly tested her father’s stance. Marrying off? No thanks. It backfired. Though he’d mentioned marriage often, this time he didn’t link it to the throne. No benefit meant no sacrifice.

"Speaking of Sister—didn’t you get a fine Slave recently?"

"Why not show Father today?"

Lucy, hating the topic on herself, threw Mefia under the bus. Even Aiken turned, surprised.

"A Slave?"

Slavery was legal in the Lor Empire—no big deal. Bringing one to banquets was acceptable too. But only high-ranking nobles did so. Lower-status ones avoided it. An unspoken noble rule.