“Welcome… to your rebirth, my Seraphina.”
At that moment, a certain thought seemed to cross Movira’s mind.
The corners of her lips curved into a smile that made Seraphina’s heart pound with unease.
She leaned close to Seraphina’s ear and whispered, soft enough for only the two of them to hear,
“By the way, darling… a few days ago, that throne… was it comfortable to sit on?”
Seraphina’s entire body went rigid.
The tension that had only just eased snapped back in an instant.
She opened her eyes wide in terror—if Movira decided to do anything to her right now, she had absolutely no strength to resist!
Well… she never really had any before, either…
“I…” She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Of course. Movira had been watching all along… She should have known better than to try something like that.
Movira chuckled lightly. Her fingertip brushed across Seraphina’s faintly trembling lips.
“Relax. Originally, I did plan to punish you a little. But considering the arduous metamorphosis you’ve just endured… I’ll go easy on you this time.”
Her tone had regained its usual playful lilt, yet somehow it felt different.
“Your punishment will be… to rest properly for a full week. For the next seven days, you don’t have to review a single document or receive any ministers.”
Movira reached out and gently pinched Seraphina’s cheek, the gesture brimming with an intimate affection.
This sudden shift left Seraphina completely bewildered. A punishment… had turned into a reward?
Was it because… she had finally, completely become a woman?
The realization twisted her emotions into an unbearable knot.
She had lost the very last proof of her manhood, yet in exchange it seemed Movira’s attitude toward her had subtly changed.
Was this fortune… or an even greater misfortune?
All the confusion and unease were slowly suppressed under Movira’s magic. Soon after, sensation throughout her entire body began to fade.
“Sleep,” Movira’s voice was like wind chimes beside the bed. “I’ll be right here…”
…
A softness she had never known enveloped her. When her eyes opened, it was not the familiar ceiling of her own bedroom that greeted her, but a deep, light-devouring black canopy.
The air was thick with a pervasive scent—intoxicating, inescapable, belonging solely to Movira.
It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over the remnants of her drowsiness.
Seraphina bolted upright so quickly her head spun.
The silky black quilt slid from her body, revealing sheets of the same color—luxuriously smooth against her skin.
What she wore felt equally extraordinary: an obviously oversized nightgown, simple in design yet so soft it felt like a second layer of skin.
This… was undoubtedly Movira’s.
“So this place is… Movira’s… bedroom?!”
The realization tightened her chest. She looked around. The room was enormous yet sparsely furnished.
Black and gold dominated the color scheme. Massive windows were shrouded by heavy curtains, allowing only slivers of dim light to seep through.
Why was she here?!
Ever since arriving at the Demon King’s Castle, Movira had never once allowed her even half a step inside this room!
Yet now… she was here…
Could the reason be…
Seraphina instinctively pressed her thighs together. An unbelievable emptiness reminded her that the ritual had been completed.
Overwhelming loss, absurdity, and terrified confusion froze her body in place.
With trembling fingers, she reached down, cautiously touching herself through the silky fabric.
There… it was completely flat now…
A strange, soft curve had replaced what had once been there.
At that exact moment, the bedroom door opened without a sound.
Movira leaned lazily against the doorframe, still clad in her signature black robe, as though she had only just returned from outside.
“Awake already? How do you feel, my dear Seraphina? Is the bed I sleep in every night comfortable enough for you?”
She deliberately emphasized the words “every night,” clearly teasing.
Her gaze fell on the hand Seraphina was clutching tightly to the nightgown’s collar, and her smile deepened.
As expected—people may change, but their nature never does! Movira was still the same Movira!
Seraphina’s hand felt scorched by that look.
She yanked it back, forcing down the shame burning inside her, and spoke as calmly as she could—though a faint tremor still slipped through.
“What… what did you do to me?! Why—why am I in your bed, and… these clothes!”
Movira walked toward her slowly. Each step made Seraphina’s body tremble a little more.
Eventually Seraphina found herself backed against the headboard, while Movira loomed over her from above.
Her fingertip grazed Seraphina’s cheek, flushed with a storm of complicated emotions. “What did I do?
I took care of you, of course. You were soaked in sweat and far too weak.
I couldn’t possibly let you sleep somewhere else all filthy, could I?”
“And if the pain had come back? The only safe place was right beside me.”
“As for the clothes… yours were drenched. Wearing mine temporarily—what’s the problem?”
Her explanation sounded perfectly reasonable, but Seraphina wasn’t about to believe Movira had suddenly turned altruistic.
Especially when she realized her clothes had been changed while she was unconscious—possibly even…
The thought set her cheeks ablaze. Furious and humiliated, she glared up at Movira.
“Just changing clothes?” Seraphina bit her lip hard, eyes filled with indignity and distrust.
“You… you didn’t take advantage of me while I was asleep and… do anything, did you!”
“Do anything?” Movira raised an eyebrow slightly, deliberately drawing out the words, savoring Seraphina’s embarrassment.
“Like what, darling? Tell me—what kind of thing do you mean? The current you is like a flower that has only just bloomed. You couldn’t withstand even the slightest storm.”
Every word dripped with innuendo. Seraphina shook with anger, yet felt utterly helpless.
She truly felt no discomfort beyond the obvious change and lingering weakness—no other signs or… traces. But that wasn’t nearly enough to put her mind at ease.
What if Movira had some special method to erase any evidence?
“Hmph! Who knows if you’re lying to me!” She turned her face away, refusing to meet those heart-stirring eyes any longer.
Yet inside, conflict threatened to tear her apart.
On one hand, she loathed the changes to her body and the one responsible for them—Movira.
On the other, a shameful curiosity about her new form sprouted like bamboo after rain.
She wanted to know what she looked like now, but terror and intense embarrassment chained her in place.
Movira saw straight through her. With a soft laugh, she changed her posture, sat down beside her, and switched topics.
“Enough. You’ve slept an entire day and night, and you’re covered in sweat. Go take a bath—it’ll feel much better. Besides…”
She pointed toward the wooden door leading to the bath on the side of the bedroom. “The hot water is already prepared.”
“And… I can teach you how to get acquainted with your new body.”
“Get… acquainted?! You mean… bathe together?!…”