Evora, who had long appeared disinterested, suddenly had a spark in her eyes.
"This object..."
She gazed intently at the grey bracelet on Ravenna's wrist, an unmasked flame of greed burning in her pupils.
"Intriguing."
The Elder Princess chuckled softly, "Is this the inspiration you provided her?"
"Yet, the creation is a testament to Ravenna's own abilities."
Ansel observed that lovely yet aloof visage, a slight smile playing on his lips, "I certainly lack the skill to craft such an item."
"Skill, hmph... Your little puppet indeed possesses a unique and remarkable talent in this regard."
As the conversation turned to this, Evora sneered for reasons unknown, "But she always harbors impractically foolish delusions."
Ansel's brows lifted slightly, "...Has she mentioned anything to you?"
"What else could it be but an upgraded version of her mad grandfather's ideals?"
The woman waved her hand dismissively, "Nonsense about... the domestication of alchemical devices and such."
The young Hydral watched Ravenna crafting arrows for Seraphina, his eyes narrowing slightly, "Has she spoken to you of this often?"
"Not particularly. She's intelligent enough to know that after realizing my disinterest in such folly, she ceased to mention it, lest she provoke my ire."
The Elder Princess lazily stroked her foot along Ansel's thigh, "I've considered several times simply destroying the Tower of Babel outright, given their limited value."
The fate's hand almost pushed Ravenna into consigning the Tower of Babel to the abyss, but what caused Evora to abandon such a thought?
Ansel caressed Evora's delicate and smooth instep, her toes slender and the bones at the junction with her instep slightly pronounced, giving her entire foot a distinct and elegant outline.
"But you refrained from doing so, why?"
The fiery woman let out a contented purr, "Because, well~ I'm curious to see what your prized puppet is truly capable of. Consider it... a favor in your regard, sparing them."
Evora's foot lashed out towards Ansel's face in a fit of pique, but he caught her ankle just in time, her pale sole nearly brushing against his cheek.
"Aren't you the capital's renowned ladies' man, Mr. Ansel?"
"... I don't recall ever earning that moniker. Three years ago, I was but a child, dear Miss Evora."
"Ha! A child?"
She scoffed, bursting into laughter. She locked eyes with him, her lips parting in a teasing gesture. "You were a devil even then, Ansel — long before that."
"Is that so?" Ansel tilted his head slightly, "I appear so wicked in your eyes, Evora."
"What of it? What's wrong with being wicked?"
Her legs entwined around his neck, her supple waist lifting her torso into an intimate proximity with Ansel.
"Compared to the nauseating halo of your youth..."
She whispered into his ear, "The man you've become now, is utterly... irresistible."
"The empire's fate in your hands is indeed a troubling thought, Evora."
Ansel sighed, "I dread to think how burdensome I will become."
"Who said anything about burdens? Sitting beside me on the throne, watching them squirm to please us—it's delightful, isn't it?"
Evora released him, her ideological divergence instantly cooling their closeness. The rising indifference, even disgust on her face, betrayed her lack of genuine affection for Ansel and underscored the nature of divine species.
Or perhaps... it was Ansel who was the true anomaly.
Ansel remained silent, his gaze shifting from the image of Seraphina drawing her bow to the petite scholar perched silently upon the floating cannon.
Fate had unjustly made Ravenna aware of his peculiarity.
Because this would deepen her bias towards herself.
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