Herbert Raymond and Bela chatted idly, with no real direction to their conversation.
As for the topic of their discussion—
Frankly, Aphrodite, sitting off to the side, didn’t pay attention at all. She even stifled a yawn, gnawing absentmindedly on the already-chewed straw she’d been using as a distraction.
She had never been able to muster any interest in this sort of “human” socializing. It had been the same back when she was among the Demons.
But one couldn’t really blame her; after all, the things that happened in the Demon Realm had left a poor impression on him.
Back then, so-called socializing for him in the Demon Realm usually went like this:
“Bachros, I’ll need to trouble you again.”
“Bachros, only you can handle this task for now.”
Day in and day out, as someone born to toil, he had to endure this excruciatingly painful “social interaction.”
Gradually, Bachros grew thoroughly tired of these dull exchanges.
Only when it was with Bela did he feel any joy.
That was one reason he always indulged Bela so much.
There was another factor: the situation within the Demon Realm itself was beyond complicated.
For starters, Goleya herself was unbelievably lazy, and everyone else did their own thing, only communicating when absolutely necessary.
But that communication was so minimal it was as good as nonexistent—otherwise, Bachros wouldn’t be here now.
Looking back, the fact that the Demon Realm had managed to persist this long was something of a miracle in itself.
Perhaps sensing the nearly tangible aura of weariness radiating from Aphrodite, Herbert Raymond tactfully brought the conversation to a close.
“We won’t trouble you any longer today. We’ll take our leave first. If the Chamber of Commerce requires anything, please don’t hesitate to let us or your lord know.”
Herbert smiled as he spoke, his gaze unconsciously drifting toward Aphrodite. “I look forward to exchanging a few more words with Lady Aphrodite at the banquet in the future.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Lord Herbert. I’ll be sure to convey your regards to Lady Aphrodite,” Bela replied respectfully.
After bowing to see Viscount Herbert and his party off, Bela returned to Aphrodite’s side and said softly, “My lady, we should leave now.”
“Hm? Finished talking?” Aphrodite released the mangled straw from her mouth, her voice still a little dazed as if she’d just come back to herself.
“Yes, and now we can go to the dessert shop.”
“Oh, alright.” Aphrodite nodded mechanically and got to her feet.
“My lady.” Bela suddenly called out again.
“Hmm? What is it?” Aphrodite turned around, a bit puzzled.
Bela wore a faintly apologetic, helpless expression. “There’s… some not-so-good news I need to tell you.”
“What bad news could there be?” Aphrodite waved her hand indifferently and stifled another small yawn.
In her view, as long as it didn’t require her personal involvement, Bela could handle it. In this respect, she trusted Bela’s abilities.
“It’s about the celebration banquet,” Bela paused, then spoke clearly, “I’m afraid you’ll need to attend in person this time.”
“Oh, alright… wait, what?!” Aphrodite’s casual answer froze halfway as she realized what was said, moving closer to Bela and lowering her voice. “What did you just say? Didn’t we agree you’d find an excuse to decline?”
Bela let out a light sigh and explained, “My lady, the situation is a bit special this time. Herbert Raymond recognized us, which means Elia will likely hear about your outing today, and your physical condition… clearly isn’t so bad that you can’t attend. The excuse of being ‘unwell’—our usual fallback—won’t work anymore.”
Seeing Aphrodite’s face instantly fall, Bela patiently continued, “Also, the resolution of the beast tide event drew quite a bit of attention. They’re placing great importance on this banquet, and it’s been ages since you last attended something like this, so it’s not easy to excuse yourself.”
Bela lowered her voice even more. “I know you dislike it, but sometimes, showing your face when necessary really is important.”
Aphrodite listened to Bela’s analysis, her brow furrowing tight.
Back among the Demons, strength was everything; the rules were straightforward and brutal.
But here, in human society, the visible rules, social niceties, and balance between factions wove a complex web. Sometimes, hiding away only led to more entanglement.
“Tch… what a hassle.”
“So there’s really no getting out of this?”
“I’m afraid not, my lady.” Bela nodded affirmatively, then softened her tone in reassurance.
“But don’t worry. You only need to make an appearance, accept the formal greetings, and just nod or smile when needed. I’ll handle all the other trivial matters for you. We can leave early once the timing’s right.”
Seeing the certainty and reliability in Bela’s gaze, Aphrodite finally gave in, though clearly unwilling: “…Fine, fine, I’ll do as you say. But you have to keep an eye out—once we get a chance, we’re slipping out.”
“Yes, understood.”
At last, with that troublesome matter settled, Aphrodite perked up again. “So, what now?”
“To the dessert shop, of course, my lady.”
In a delicately decorated dessert shop in the Central District, filled with the sweet scent of confections, Aphrodite and Bela sat in a quiet window-side corner.
Two elegant desserts sat before them. One was specially ordered by Bela for Aphrodite—the shop’s signature, a deep blue mousse topped with silver sugar pearls and fresh berries.
The other was Bela’s choice: a matcha red bean Basque cake. The dark green cake was perfectly caramelized on top, revealing a fine, fluffy texture at the sides, with a small mound of honeyed red beans and a sliver of gold leaf as simple, elegant garnish.
Aphrodite poked at the beautiful mousse with her spoon, her expression clearly skeptical.
As a former Demon executive, she instinctively resisted such overly sweet, soft-looking foods.
“Bela, are you sure this is good? It looks sickeningly sweet.”
“My lady, just give it a try,” Bela encouraged, her eyes shining.
“This place is famous for its desserts—the flavors are layered, not just sweet. Think of it as… enjoying a bit of the human world? And didn’t you promise you’d try some with me?”
Under Bela’s expectant gaze, Aphrodite hesitated, but in the end, she scooped up a small spoonful and, with an almost martyr-like resolve, put it in her mouth.
Yet, the overwhelming sweetness she expected never came.
The mousse melted instantly on her tongue, the berry’s slight tartness hitting first, perfectly balancing out the creamy sweetness, followed by the mousse’s own silky richness and the crispness of the biscuit base mingling together.
A kind of sweetness she’d never known quickly spread through her mouth—even her mood seemed to lighten in an odd, inexplicable way.
Aphrodite was stunned, unconsciously taking another spoonful and savoring it.
“Well, my lady?” Bela smiled, having already read the answer in Aphrodite’s changing expression.
Aphrodite didn’t reply immediately. She ate several more spoonfuls before turning away a little awkwardly, muttering under her breath, “…It’s… alright, I guess. Not as bad as I thought.”
But the glimmer in her eyes and the spoon repeatedly reaching for the dessert betrayed her true feelings.
Bela’s smile deepened.
She understood that perhaps it wasn’t just the deliciousness of the dessert itself, but also Aphrodite’s current body.
This female form naturally reacted to sugar and delightful flavors with more immediate and intense pleasure.
It was a subtle change, one Aphrodite herself might not yet fully realize.
“As long as you like it,” Bela said softly. Then she picked up her own little spoon and cut off a piece of her matcha red bean Basque cake. “This one’s good too, would you like to try it?”
This time, Aphrodite didn’t hesitate much, taking the offered bite.
Bela watched as her lord, though not saying much, honestly explored these human desserts—her own mood lightened even more.
She savored her cake slowly, her gentle gaze falling on the one across from her—Aphrodite, head tilted, focused intently on her dessert, the shadow of her hood unable to hide her relaxed brow and eyes.
If only things could stay like this forever.