"The game is called 'Find the Key.'"
Thanatos dangled a small silver key between her fingers, its surface catching the chandelier's light.
"Find the... key?"
Hugo blinked. The name sounded childish—something for bored noble children, not a goddess' pastime.
"Simple rules." Her smile was indulgent. "Even a toddler could play."
Then—poof. A flash of light, and the key vanished from her hand.
"I've hidden it somewhere in this room. Find it before time runs out, and you win. See? Easy~"
Indeed, the concept was straightforward. Yet Hugo's instincts prickled. Why would an archmage—a being who could teleport objects with a thought—stoop to such a mundane game?
"Of course," she purred, "every game needs a prize." A manicured finger tapped her chin. "How about... 100 million gold?"
Hugo's jaw unhinged.
"O-One hundred million?!"
Enough to buy five mansions. Enough to erase his debts tenfold.
"You're... serious?"
"Would I swear falsely on my divine name?" She placed a hand over her heart—drawing attention to its generous curves.
"So?" Her eyelashes fluttered. "Will you play? Or forfeit?"
"I'll play!"
The words burst from him before he could reconsider.
Thanatos clapped. "Begin~!"
Hugo lunged from his seat like a starved hound. He overturned plates, rifled behind paintings, even checked under the rug—no key.
"Ten minutes left," Thanatos sang, sipping wine.
Sweat beaded on Hugo's brow. Where? He'd scoured every inch—
"Need a hint?"
His head snapped up.
She pointed—directly at herself.
"It's... on you?"
"Mmm. Somewhere on my body."
Hugo's mouth went dry.
"Problem?" she asked, tilting her head.
Every possible problem. Touching a goddess—his friend's wife—was sacrilege. Yet...
"N-No..."
He approached like a man heading to the gallows. Circling her chair, he inspected from a "safe" distance—the glint of jewelry, the folds of her qipao.
"Tsk." Thanatos shook her head. "You'll never find it like that."
"But to search properly, I'd have to—"
"Touch me? Obviously."
She spread her arms, the picture of indifference. Hugo's gut churned.
This is a trap.
The realization struck: she'd planned this. Knew he'd balk. The prize was bait; the real game was watching him squirm.
"I... I forfeit."
"Ah!" She snapped her fingers. "I forgot to mention—forfeiting means you owe me 100 million."
"WHAT?!"
"Fair's fair." She sipped her wine. "Every action has an equal reaction. Basic magical theory, no?"
Hugo's protest died in his throat. The rumors were true—Thanatos was merciless.
"Five minutes left," she reminded.
Teeth gritted, he stepped forward.
"...Excuse me."
His hands shook as they grazed her bare calf. Warm. Soft. Divine.
Thanatos didn't flinch.
He worked methodically: ankles, shins, knees. Nothing.
"Honestly," she sighed, "you think I'd hide it there?"
Leaning in, her breath tickled his ear:
"The key is... much more intimate."