"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Ledyah pushed open the parlor door to find a slender figure already waiting inside.

"Demon Lord."

By the window stood a strikingly handsome young man. Tall and seemingly delicate, his porcelain-smooth skin and exquisite features outshone most maidens. He wore a flowing scholar’s robe embroidered with intricate gold patterns—ancient and solemn. His gold-rimmed spectacles, dangling a delicate chain, only amplified his aura of erudition and wisdom.

Deep blue eyes shimmered with starlit mystery, holding secrets that felt like wisdom made flesh. In his long, elegant fingers rested a white-bound book—he’d been reading to pass the time while awaiting the Demon King.

Spotting Ledyah’s arrival, he closed the book with a soft *snap* and bowed perfectly. His voice was gentle and warm as spring breeze, his entire presence radiating an otherworldly purity that naturally drew goodwill.

Yet that subtle, refreshing charm—the bare minimum allure inherent to this youth—held zero effect on the Demon King. True "quality violence" was Noah’s brand of charm: equally devastating to Demon Kings and maids alike.

Abraham. Sovereign of the Siren Court—also called the Succubus Court—master of ancient curses, seeker of arcane truths, and Ledyah’s old friend. Naturally, as a Court Sovereign, Abraham was himself a succubus. (Sirens were merely another name for succubi, and yes—he was male. Though rare in mortal eyes, Tainted Courts held equal numbers of male and female succubi. It was simply that the females’ overwhelming presence eclipsed their male counterparts.)

"No need for formality. Just us two. Sit, Lord Abraham."

Ledyah waved a hand. Maids and guards waited outside; excessive ceremony could be set aside. She settled onto the sofa, the movement sending a dagger-like stab through her utterly drained lower back. Her garnet eyes nearly watered. *Know your limits. Neglect your body, and you pay the price...* She bit back tears.

Abraham mirrored her posture, his delicate brows lifting slightly. His thumb traced the book’s spine, his expression unchanging as he spoke flatly:

"Understood. I’ll dispense with pleasantries and speak plainly."

"Your Majesty—has the Holy Maiden truly, perfectly fused with our succubi’s ‘Lunar Essence’? With no side effects whatsoever? Is this confirmed?"

"Yes. Confirmed."

Ledyah nodded firmly, her voice carrying sovereign certainty.

"I’d prepared to use our contract to suppress part of the energy... only for her to reverse the flow. The outcome wasn’t as I’d planned, yet as a human, her condition remains flawless."

"In fact, since gaining the ability to transform into a succubus, her life energy has surged far beyond her original state."

A flicker of embarrassment and pain crossed Ledyah’s lovely face as she recalled her mishap. Her sides still ached dully. She kept her expression tight.

"Indeed. That much is visible."

Abraham agreed readily. As Sovereign of the Sirens, he’d instantly noted Ledyah’s strained state—her dignity upheld only by poise and makeup. Though outwardly an icy, ascetic idol, he wasn’t some blunt brute. Basic empathy was due.

He didn’t notice how his words made Ledyah’s face tighten further.

*Visible? So Noah draining me dry is that obvious?* She resisted the urge to clutch her aching back, her lips twitching.

"Where is the Holy Maiden now? I wish to examine her personally to verify my theories."

Abraham pressed on, ignoring Ledyah’s twitching lips.

"Hmm... about that." Ledyah’s lips twitched again—but this time with suppressed laughter. She retrieved a clean cup from the cabinet, filled it with milk-like liquid, and placed it before him. "One cup only. No refills."

Influenced by Noah’s mischief—or perhaps reclaiming her old nature as an Undying Princess—she relished the tease like a little devil.

Abraham studied the creamy drink. He lifted it, inhaling deeply. Rich, intoxicating milkiness flooded his senses, making his mouth water. It looked ordinary, yet radiated an aura of profound nobility. *What celestial cow produces such nectar?*

He sat upright, sipping like fine tea. Every motion exuded Sovereign grace.

The liquid touched his tongue—flavor bloomed softly, then slipped down his throat like a playful sprite, leaving a trail of velvet richness. Warmth lingered, filling his mouth, urging another sip. He took it. The taste satisfied both hunger and thirst, delivering heavenly euphoria.

That depth... like decades-aged vintage wine. Abraham saw a lithe maiden dancing—a sacred princess glowing with pure, tender light. He drained the cup again and again, this milk’s equivalent of Romanée-Conti... no, *the* Romanée-Conti of milks.

Only when he tilted the cup for the last drop did he realize it was empty. His throat felt bereft.

"How was it, Abraham?"

Ledyah beamed, watching his hollow expression. Her smile curved with pure, mischievous delight.