I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Chapter 136: Wardrobe malfunction?

As the flying cart touched down in front of the Beaumont mansion, the sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink. Zafron alighted first, offering his hand to Cassandra as she stepped down, her arms laden with packages.

"Thank you, Zafron," Cassandra said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I hope you're not too worn out from our little expedition."

Zafron allowed himself a small smile. "It was fun, my lady."

As they approached the mansion's grand entrance, several servants rushed forward, eager to assist with the day's purchases. Cassandra, however, waved them off with a gentle smile.

'I can't let him leave,' Cassandra thought briefly.

"That won't be necessary," she said, her voice kind but firm. "Zafron will help me carry these to my room."

The servants exchanged surprised glances but didn't argue. Zafron, for his part, managed to keep his face impassive, though internally he was puzzled. 'Her room? Surely that's not part of my duties.'

Nevertheless, he followed Cassandra as she led the way through the mansion's opulent hallways, up several flights of stairs, and finally to a set of ornate double doors. With a flourish, Cassandra pushed them open, revealing her private chambers.

Zafron couldn't help but stare. The room was easily the size of his entire house, with soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of Drakoria. Plush carpets covered the floor, and exquisite artwork adorned the walls. A massive four-poster bed dominated one corner, while a seating area with plush sofas and armchairs occupied another.

"You can set those packages down over there," Cassandra said, gesturing towards a large, intricately carved wardrobe. As Zafron complied, she continued, "Would you mind helping me sort through everything? I'd like to decide what to wear for tomorrow's ceremony."

Zafron hesitated for a moment. This was definitely outside his usual responsibilities. But looking at Cassandra's expectant face, he found himself nodding. "Of course, my lady."

As they began unpacking the various purchases, Zafron's mind wandered to his daily quest. The sun was sinking lower by the minute, and he knew he was running out of time. 'Just my luck,' he thought wryly. 'Stuck sorting dresses when I should be completing my quest.'

Cassandra's voice broke through his thoughts. "Most of these are for future use, you know. I like to be prepared for any occasion. But we need to find the perfect outfit for tomorrow."

Zafron nodded, efficiently sorting through the items. He was moving quickly, hoping against hope that he might still have time to complete his quest. But as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, he felt a familiar sense of disappointment. The quest was gone, vanished like smoke in the wind.

Oblivious to Zafron's internal struggle, Cassandra continued chattering away, regaling him with stories of past social events and the intricacies of noble fashion. She disappeared into an adjoining dressing room, emerging moments later in a stunning

The gown was designed with a daringly low-cut neckline that exposed ample cleavage, and the fabric clung to her curves with a luxurious sheen. The bodice was adorned with intricate lace detailing, but the design was clearly made to highlight her figure, leaving little to the imagination.

As she twirled gracefully, the full skirt of the gown swirled around her, but the plunging neckline allowed glimpses of her bare skin to peek through. The ensemble seemed to hang precariously, with the fabric falling away slightly as she moved, revealing more of her form than intended.

Zafron's gaze was drawn to the exposed flesh, noting how the gown did little to conceal the generous curves of her bust. He could see that the gown was not fully fastened; its design was deliberately open, leaving her with an almost provocative allure. Despite this, Cassandra seemed completely at ease, her confidence evident as she twirled for him.

"How do you like this one, Zafron?" she asked, her voice carrying a playful note as she struck a pose.

Zafron took a moment to respond. "It's... very nice, my lady."

Cassandra frowned slightly. "Just nice? Hmm, perhaps you're right. Let me try another."

With a playful shrug, Cassandra began to unfasten the gown in front of him. She worked at the clasps and ties with a deliberate slowness, the fabric falling away from her shoulders and revealing more of her bare skin. She seemed entirely unbothered by her exposed state, the dress slipping down to expose the curve of her breasts and the soft swell of her midriff.

As she finished undressing halfway, she made her way back to the dressing room, the open gown trailing behind her. The sight left Zafron with mixed feelings—part of him was captivated by her boldness, while another part was uncertain if this display was intentional or simply her way of managing the wardrobe change.

Was it a tease? Zafron couldn't quite tell.

As Zafron stood there, his eyes involuntarily following Cassandra as she moved towards the dressing room, the gown hanging open and revealing more than he'd expected. His thoughts were a jumble of confusion and fascination.

'So this is what "wardrobe malfunction" looks like in high society,' he mused, trying to keep his gaze politely averted while still being unable to completely avoid the view. 'I'm not sure if I should be more concerned about her fashion sense or my own rapidly growing sense of... distraction.'

He chuckled silently to himself. 'Well, at least she's honest about her fashion choices. "Let's see how this looks" might as well translate to "Let's see how much I can shock Zafron before he says something silly."'

As he waited, Zafron's mind wandered. 'Is this part of the fitting process, or is she trying out a new strategy for breaking the ice? Because if it's the latter, I must admit, it's working.'

He shook his head, trying to clear the distracting thoughts. 'Focus, Zafron. You're here to give an opinion on dresses, not to daydream. Though, if she keeps this up, the line between critique and... well, something else might get a bit blurry.'

Just as he was about to convince himself that this was all just part of the evening's entertainment, Cassandra reappeared in a different gown, and Zafron had to brace himself for whatever came next.