Chapitre 13: Hallway reserved for women
The woman's eyes narrowed with suspicion as she explained, "This hallway is reserved for the female guards."
Arthur, unfazed, clarified, "I've been assigned as a guard of the patriarch's daughter's residence," he said, his voice steady. "The team is exclusively female, which might explain why I'm here with you."
The woman's brow furrowed in surprise, her stance rigid with confusion. "I wasn't informed of this change," she admitted.
"It's a recent development," Arthur replied with a shrug. "Many other guards seem to be aware, though. And you needn't worry—I have no interest in women."
At his words, the tension seemed to drain from her, and her hands relaxed at her sides, inadvertently allowing Arthur a full view of her voluptuous figure. He couldn't help but notice how harmonious her body was, despite its generous curves; his eyes slid down her slightly plump hips before he caught himself and looked into her eyes.
"I think we're going to be very good friends," Arthur said with a smile.
Arthur paused for a moment, focusing on his abilities to maintain the best eloquence possible and to be precise with his gestures before adding, "I need to change into my uniform. Is it alright if I do it here?"
The woman bit her lip in thought, then asked uncertainly, "Should I leave?"
Arthur's fingers fumbled with his tunic, and he glanced at the woman who stood there, her eyes darting away whenever they met his. "You can stay," he answered, his voice low and steady. "I don't mind."
She hesitated. Her gaze lingered on the expanse of his chest, the play of muscles as he shrugged off his shirt. Arthur's skin was sun-kissed, and the scars that crisscrossed his back told stories of battles fought and won.
"Have you recently arrived at the settlement?" she finally asked, her voice barely audible.
He nodded, pulling the uniform pants over his hips. "Yes. I come from a group of survivors further north."
Her eyes traced the lines of his abdomen.
Arthur could see that his eloquence and charisma were beginning to have an effect.
"You're not usual," she murmured, almost to herself.
Arthur chuckled. "I hope that's a good thing."
She blushed, and he found it endearing. "I mean," she stammered, "you're not standard. Everyone else is so... timid and predictable."
He stepped into his boots, lacing them up. "Predictable?"
"Yes," she said, her gaze now openly appreciative. "They follow the rules, never deviating. But you..." She gestured vaguely at him. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at me; I don't believe you're not interested in women."
Arthur straightened, his heart pounding. "And what do you think about all this?"
Her eyes met his, and for a moment, the air crackled between them. "You're not here for power or loyalty," she said softly. "There's something more."
He leaned closer, their breaths mingling. "Perhaps," he whispered. "Perhaps I simply wished to share a room with a beautiful woman like you."
She blushed deeper. "What's your name?" Arthur asked.
"Elise," she replied, her voice barely audible.
"Elise," he repeated, committing it to memory. He gathered his courage and added, "Well, Elise, maybe we could stop just looking at each other like this and let our bodies express what words can't."
Her lips curved into a shy smile. "Perhaps," she said. "But not now; I have a patrol in five minutes."
Arthur's heart hammered with excitement. Elise's response, while not an outright yes, fueled his hope. He felt that his first sexual experience was now within reach. It surprised him how comfortable he felt speaking to a woman like this.
A thought crossed his mind, ''The eloquence talent is really useful.''
She dressed and left the room a few minutes later.
Arthur's heart sank as he watched Elise leave the room, but he understood her duty called.
Moments later, his thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of two female guards into the room, their expressions stern and closed-off.
One of them stepped forward, her voice firm and authoritative, "Are you Arthur?" Upon his nod, she continued, "Follow us. We'll show you to the patriarch's daughter's residence."
Arthur and the two guards exited the guard's quarters, stepping into the open air of the settlement. They traversed the bustling settlement. As they approached the residential area, they passed by the faction's headquarters.
The guards led Arthur to a large house that stood apart from the rest; it was surrounded by cherry trees and weeping willows. They passed through the entrance, where two female guards stood sentinel, their gazes sharp and assessing. Inside, another pair of guards patrolled with quiet efficiency, responsible for the security of the interior of the residence.
The accompanying guards introduced Arthur to each member of the security team, and he was met with nods of acknowledgment.
One of the guards who had escorted Arthur spoke up.
"Arthur, you will be assigned to garden patrols," she said, her gaze steady. "I am Martina, and I will be your partner on this duty. Our primary task is to deter any intruders, using weapons if necessary. You will be trained and armed accordingly."
Martina's expression was serious as she continued, "Should an intrusion occur, our protocol is to alert the mistress immediately. Remember, our lives are secondary to the security of this estate. Sacrifice is our duty."
"Understood," he replied, "I am ready to fulfill my responsibilities."
Martina led Arthur through the residence's opulent halls and out into the garden. The beauty of the meticulously tended flora took his breath away. As they began their patrol, Arthur's gaze was drawn to the terrace of the first floor, where a figure stood surveying the grounds.
She was a young woman. Her voluptuous and muscular form, framed by cascading waves of black hair, was accentuated by a striking black corset and white trousers. This outfit highlighted her exquisite curves, sensuous hips, and ample posterior.
Arthur couldn't help but stare, overwhelmed by a burning desire at the sight of her enchanting figure.
Noticing his gaze, Martina followed his line of sight and then explained, "That's our mistress, the patriarch's daughter, Victoria. "
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone