“Seriously, was the designer of this fitting room’s brain on the fritz?”

Kanata sensed something was off the moment he stepped inside.

That damn claustrophobia, secrecy, crowding—the brush of skin against skin—it all felt… intensely suggestive.

“I’ll give you that,” Alessia muttered.

For a store this size, the fitting room was barely over one square meter. Could it be any smaller?

The full-length mirror on the wall perfectly reflected the Sovereign’s elegant figure. Black lace panties hugged her shapely hips.

Curvaceous. Flawless.

The issue? Her chest. The bra size seemed too small—the clasp refused to fasten.

“I’ll swap it for a larger one. Wait… have you been eating more lately? Gained weight?”

Kanata’s clueless remark instantly drew Alessia’s glare.

“So… you still think that girl’s figure beats mine? Even though *I* pay your salary, your eyes keep leering at others. How *impressive*.”

Why was she so fixated on this? They shared a simple master-servant contract. Did a servant’s opinion really matter this much?

Kanata sighed inwardly. Women were truly unfathomable.

A master of unpredictability.

“What now?”

Trapped, Kanata saw only one solution: ask the staff for a bigger size.

“How can you judge the fit without trying it? And commenting on a woman’s weight? Rude. Remember this—never say something that idiotic again.”

Her counterstrike left zero room for reply. Any comeback would be fatal.

And so it unfolded: Kanata’s gaze locked onto her bare back, hands trembling as he gripped the bra strap ends, straining to fasten the clasp.

*Gulp.*

He swallowed hard, almost unconsciously.

Before him lay a flawless silhouette—movie-star perfect. Such an accidental privilege.

The owner? Not exactly likable. But the view? Impeccable.

This scene was undeniably… lewd.

“Are you getting turned on by my body right now? How vulgar. Teacher—your late father—was a good mentor. Pity he didn’t raise you better.”

“…”

Mention of his father made Kanata’s chest tighten.

His death wasn’t random. It was her doing.

If she’d just cooperated with the Judicial Department back then… he and his sister wouldn’t have lost everything.

The air shifted—from sharp tension to heavy silence.

Seconds passed. His grip slipped. The bra strap loosened on the Sovereign’s perfect form. Urgent fix needed.

If he didn’t catch it, she’d be exposed. No one else was around… but Kanata prided himself a gentleman. He wouldn’t take advantage.

“Oops—”

His hand missed the strap—and found unintended contact.

“Hya~”

A flustered, utterly unfamiliar squeak escaped Alessia’s lips.

“P-Pervert!”

Her cry tipped their balance. They tumbled together onto the cramped fitting room floor.

An unspoken, electric tension thickened the air.