A space covered in pristine white tiles. Yet, here and there, decorations themed in purple and gold filled the gaps.
The perfect balance of density and opulence. A vibe that could easily veer into nouveau riche tackiness had been elegantly refined.
This was the bathroom that only Jevella Zahav and those she permitted could enter.
"Isn't it funny? This place doesn't even have iris flowers or pots, yet they call it the Iris Garden."
"That's because you never let anyone but me in here, miss. Everyone just imagined whatever they wanted and named it. ...And why wouldn't there be irises?"
"Oh? I have a feeling the next part will be good. Tell me more, Laila."
Vivid purple eyes that not even the steam from the hot water could obscure.
Laila, the plain-looking maid, gently washed Jevella's hair as she spoke.
"It's you, of course, Miss Jevella."
"Hehe. I like hearing it even when I know it's coming."
Jevella shrugged with a refined voice.
With the motion, her snow-white hair cascaded down, and her flawless skin briefly surfaced above the water before submerging again.
Laila, who had attended her baths countless times, still couldn't get used to the sight.
No, knowing the feminine allure of the body beneath the surface made it even harder to grow accustomed.
Jevella Zahav. She was beautiful. Beautiful enough to leave even another woman entranced at times.
...But not Zahav-like.
The Zahav bloodline ability drew from solar mana and the blessed flesh it granted—a fundamentally yang force.
As such, men manifested its traits unconditionally, while women could only pass it to their heirs, never wielding it themselves. Even accounting for that, Jevella was far too un-Zahav-like.
Typically, even daughters inherited at least one trait: golden hair or sun-kissed skin. The bloodline ability flowed through their veins, even if not fully manifested.
It might be duller gold or a subtler tone, but faint traces always remained.
Yet Jevella's hair shone like it emitted its own light, a dazzling white, and her skin was as pale as if milk had been poured over it.
No matter how you looked at her, she didn't seem like a daughter of House Zahav. If anything, she resembled a saintess from the Church.
Naturally, the previous patriarch, Cain Zahav—who was far from devout—suspected his wife's infidelity.
He summoned mages and alchemists multiple times for paternity tests. It took a while, but they eventually proved Jevella was indeed Cain's daughter.
The conclusion: an unusually strong manifestation from one of the maternal ancestors.
In truth, this shouldn't have happened at all.
House Zahav, one of the Empire's four great ducal houses, obsessed over blood purity to the point of earning the moniker Incestuous Noble House.
That obsession allowed them to maintain their potent bloodline ability, directly tied to the purity of their blood.
Even intermarrying with other nobles resulted only in Zahav traits manifesting.
But nothing in the world lasts forever.
Even the greatest famed sword rusts eventually, and House Zahav's glory began to fade.
The lion's blood degraded until it birthed mongrels.
At some point, Zahav blood grew weak, and they even lost control over themselves more often.
Unlike their fierce yet dutiful ancestors, the descendants devolved into mere wastrels.
Eventually, children like Jevella were born without inheriting the bloodline ability at all.
Cain saw this as a harbinger of House Zahav's downfall and sought to escape it.
He planned to sire as many children as possible and name the one with the purest blood as heir.
Fomenting brutal succession struggles was part of that scheme.
Jevella was thoroughly excluded from it all.
A symbol of the house's decline, born as a direct daughter yet showing no trace of the bloodline ability.
To Cain, Jevella was an ominous reminder of failure every time he saw her.
So he abused her.
He was only marginally better than his own children, still a wastrel consumed by his nature.
Violence. Starvation. Loneliness. Betrayal.
Jevella bloomed more vibrantly than anyone, fed by all those negative emotions.
Who could deny her poisoning her father's meals or sowing discord among her already heated siblings, driving them to kill each other?
Even Cain viewed the survivor of the succession struggle as a trophy for the winner—a broodmare to revive the diluted Zahav blood.
Of course, Jevella wanted House Zahav to end with her generation. Astonishingly, she nearly succeeded.
Until the excessively loyal House Kesef unearthed the last illegitimate child.
Splash.
Jevella rose from the tub, revealing a body more beautiful than any statue, and asked,
"Laila. What is Enoch... my one remaining brother... up to?"
"He summoned the retainers this morning and caused a ruckus. In the process, he took down the captain of the Silver Knight Order."
"Sir Calton? Hmm. He must be no ordinary boy. But that stubborn Sir Calton will have turned tail by now, so things should get easier."
"Well... reports say his loyalty has deepened even further for some reason."
"What? Why?"
"It seems the strength Enoch showed left quite an impression."
"...Ah. As expected, I just can't stand this damned house. Or the entire south, for that matter."
Jevella let out a deep sigh and took the long towel from Laila to cover her body.
"Then, do you know what he's doing now?"
"Last report: he dragged a daughter of House Kesef into his room, and they've been holed up for hours."
"Whoa. No way? He actually went after House Kesef?"
"Can't say for sure, but... considering your other brothers, probably."
"Yeah, figures."
The process by which a Zahav immersed in instinct becomes a wastrel is simple.
Violence, women, gambling.
Falling into one—or all three—completely erodes their already faint self-control.
Jevella's brows furrowed as she recalled the rutting antics of her brothers, which she'd witnessed countless times.
"What. So the work ahead hasn't changed after all."
She still wished for the extermination of House Zahav.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
As evening fell, on the way to the dining hall for the promised meal with Jevella...
Karen spoke with her shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
"...From now on, we'll add reading lessons to your schedule, Young Master Enoch. You can read books yourself."
"Karen, Karen. Can't you just keep reading to me?"
"My throat hurts. No."
"What if it's an order?"
"No choice then. I'd have to staunchly resist this terrifying abuse of power."
Karen fixed me with a fierce glare, as if ready to flop down if pushed further.
"Tch. Was fun while it lasted. Shame."
"I've never talked this much in my life and I'm exhausted, yet you enjoyed it, Young Master Enoch. How fortunate."
A chuckle escaped at Karen's hoarse grumble.
What can I say? It felt like I'd returned to my past life on Earth after ages.
Like those fulfilling days lying in bed all day, binge-watching YouTube in a daze.
Plus, I learned not just House Zahav's history, but famous tales from beyond Calypso Territory you couldn't hear there.
It was like listening to a fantasy novel with overly elaborate world-building—quite engaging.
Unfortunately, Karen's voice had its limits.
I lightly patted the shoulders of Karen, who'd endured much since morning.
"If it was that tough, no helping it. Whenever you're ready later, I'll ask again."
"...You liked my reading that much?"
"Pretty much. Brought back some old memories."
"Old memories?"
"Yeah. From when I was little. Or even before that."
It's been a while since I was born into this world, and surviving in Calypso meant seeing all sorts of ugly sights...
Still—or perhaps because of it—memories of Earth grew fonder. No way back now, anyway.
Mindless TV droning on, fizzy soda, air conditioning to beat the summer heat, etc.
No life-threatening dangers, no worrying about starving.
Even accounting for some rose-tinted nostalgia, it had to be way easier than this world.
Recalling happy times made my lips curl up unwittingly.
Karen, who'd been staring blankly, asked softly,
"Your mother... must have been a good woman."
"Huh? What brought that on...? Well, yeah, she was."
In Calypso Territory, parents often abandoned or sold kids when times got tough.
But in this life, my mother did her utmost for me and my brother until the end.
She was top-tier in that brothel scene, so money wasn't an issue... but she was just a good person overall. The environment was the problem.
She died protecting me and my brother, after all.
Unlike my Earth memories, this life's childhood was overwhelmingly grim.
If there's any decent part, it was the time before Mother passed.
Ah, and when I finally powered up enough for revenge.
...None of them are what you'd call fond memories, huh.
My gently smiling lips twisted slightly. A change I knew but couldn't control.
Did she notice? Or had we reached the large door? Karen halted and tugged my sleeve lightly.
"We're here."
"Yeah, looks like it."
I replied as if nothing happened, and with a small sigh, Karen gripped the doorknob and opened it.
"Then, Young Master. Enjoy your meal."
"Sure."
I gave a casual reply and entered the dining hall.
There waited the woman I'd met once, yet couldn't forget.
"You came, Enoch."
A handful of snowflakes fallen in the desert— the strikingly snow-white woman in House Zahav.
Jevella Zahav.
...Ah, right. I still needed to build up dislike toward Jevella too.
Seeing that innocent face started stirring needless guilt.