Leon stood frozen in the center of the red room, the weight of her words settling into him like stones dropped into still water.
Undress.
The word echoed in his skull, and for a long moment, he simply stared at her, waiting for the punchline that never came. Her silver eyes held his without wavering, without humor, without the slightest hint that this was some elaborate joke designed to test his reaction.
She was serious.
If even she's being serious, he thought, the realization cutting through his disbelief like a blade, do I really have to strip?
The situation felt surreal. He'd walked into this room expecting something ceremonial, something symbolic, maybe a request for a rare artifact or a favor involving her ancient knowledge. Instead, he was standing in a boudoir of deep crimson while a being older than most civilizations sat watching him with the patient expectation of someone waiting for a meal to be served.
This feels so weird. So sudden.
