Helen’s heart soared. It wasn’t just about protecting Lucas anymore; for the first ti in years, she felt truly desired by a man of absolute power. A flush of pure, feminine pride washed over her, making her skin tingle.
As she began to dress, her hand lingered low on her stomach. She looked down, noticing the untad growth of dark hair peeking out from her lace panties. She traced the edge of her skin, a soft, thoughtful smile playing on her lips.
"I should probably take a little more care of myself down there," she whispered to her reflection, her voice thick with a new kind of anticipation. "I haven’t used you in a long, long ti... but who knows? It might be very soon."
Three days had passed like a blur of bittersweet goodbyes and expensive luxury. Lucas had departed on a private Royal transport, his chin held high, convinced he was heading toward his destiny as a titan of industry.
For Helen, the silence in the apartnt was deafening. She sat on the edge of her bed, the ghost of her son’s hug still lingering on her shoulders, but her mind was elsewhere. Her fingers hovered over her device.
Helen: "He’s gone, Etienne. The house feels so empty now. I feel... lonely."*
Miles away, within the pulsating heart of the athyst storm, Crul intercepted the ssage. The AI didn’t hesitate; it fed the emotional data by simulating Ethan’s attitude and intentions based on what he had discussed with him about his plans.
Etienne: "It’s a pity I’m away as well, Helen. This expansion is relentless; the rgers and acquisitions have forced us all out of the city to oversee the new territories. I hate that you’re alone... but maybe you can help pass the ti? Why don’t you send sothing more? I need to see you."*
Helen’s heart did a sorsault. He wanted to see her. He was busy ruling a continent, yet he was thinking of her "loneliness."
She didn’t waste a second. She grabbed her Royal card and headed to the most exclusive shopping district in the city. The thrill of the hunt had replaced her sadness.
***
In the boutique section of the mall, Helen found herself in a high-end lingerie store. She ran her fingers over silks and laces that cost more than a year of her old rent.
"Looking for sothing to spice things up, ma’am?" a young shop assistant asked, her smile professional but tinged with a bit of playful curiosity as she looked at the "older" woman.
Helen blushed, clutching a sheer black teddy. "Oh, I... I’m just looking for sothing special. A gift for soone very important."
"Well, with your figure, he’s going to be very grateful," the girl teased. "Usually, ladies your age go for the more... ’supportive’ styles, but you have the curves for the daring stuff. Is your husband a lucky man?"
"He’s... a very busy man," Helen replied, her heart racing as she imagined Etienne’s reaction.
She bought three sets—black lace, crimson silk, and a white one that left almost nothing to the imagination. But as she walked back toward the exit, a neon sign caught her eye: *The Velvet Rose.* An adult boutique.
She had never stepped foot in such a place. Inside, the walls were lined with things that made her head spin—silicone toys of shapes she couldn’t comprehend and "plastic vaginas" that made her giggle nervously. *How do people even use these?* she wondered, her face burning.
But then, she saw the costus. A French maid, a strict secretary, a nurse. Her imagination flared. *Would he like these? Would the master of Royal want to see serve him?*
She gathered an armful of outfits. When she reached the counter, the clerk looked at the pile of toys and costus with a bored expression—until Helen produced her Royal Credit Card.
The clerk’s eyes widened. She stood up straighter, her posture turning from indifferent to almost subservient. "Oh! My apologies, ma’am. I didn’t realize... please, allow to gift-wrap these for you personally. Would you like a private courier to take these to your residence?"
The prestige was intoxicating. Helen felt like she was floating. The power of the card, the weight of the silk in her bags, and the secret throb between her legs created a cocktail of pride and lust she had never known.
"No need," Helen said, her voice firr, more confident. "I’ll take them myself. I have a very important ’appointnt’ to prepare for."
As she walked to her car, she caught her reflection in a window. She looked younger. More alive. "I need to be perfect for him," she thought, her mind drifting to her conversation with herself three days ago. The hair... the skin... everything must be ready for whenever he returns.
Her first stop was an ultra-exclusive spa nestled in a skyscraper. The receptionist, a woman whose skin looked like polished marble, initially offered a standard appointnt for next week. Then, Helen set her card on the counter.
"I need the ’Full Empress’ treatnt," Helen said, her voice steady. "Bikini wax, facial, nails. Everything. Now."
The receptionist’s eyes nearly bulged at the sight of the Royal emblem. She didn’t even check the book. "Of course! My deepest apologies for the wait. Please, follow to the private suite. Would you care for so chilled nectar while we prepare the technicians?"
As she lay on the heated table for the wax, the technician—a young girl nad Mia— worked with extre care and under a lot o pressure.
"You have such beautiful skin, ma’am," Mia whispered, carefully applying the warm wax. "It’s rare to see soone so... well-maintained. Your partner must be a very powerful man to have a card like that."
"He is the most powerful man there is," Helen replied, closing her eyes and leaning into the stinging sensation, imagining it was all for Etienne. "And I want to be perfect for him. Clean. Smooth. Like I’m brand new."
"Well, you will be," Mia giggled. "I’ll make sure there isn’t a single stray hair left. You’ll be as smooth as silk."
Next ca the nails. The manicurist looked at Helen’s hands as if they were holy relics. "Red, I think," the woman suggested. "A deep, dark crimson. It says you are elegant, but... dangerous. A woman who knows how to please a King."
"Red it is," Helen agreed, watching the color coat her nails like fresh blood.
By the ti she stepped out of the spa, Helen felt transford. Her skin glowed, her body was hairless and supple, and her heart was racing with a predatory heat. She looked at her phone, seeing a new notification from the "Etienne" account.
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