I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 883: An interesting appearance

But Julian did not trust that peace for a second.

He knew how deceiving appearances could be.

Julian’s eyes then left the King and settled on the woman who had spoken earlier.

He had assumed she would be the Queen.

But she was… too old?

If the King were to be in his late forties, this woman looked to be in her mid-sixties. The mismatch was obvious enough that Julian’s first conclusion faded.

Then, as if answering his question, the higher-ranking members of the duchy bowed and greeted her in unison.

“It is an honor to see you, Queen Mother.”

That caught Julian off guard.

Queen Mother.

The King’s mother.

She was still alive? And if so, why have I never heard of her?

**

The Queen Mother was a far more interesting specimen than he had expected.

Her hair had gone fully white, yet it did not make her look diminished. If anything, the color sharpened her presence. Only a few wrinkles marked her face, soft lines near the eyes and mouth that did nothing to ruin the structure beneath them. She was thin, almost deceptively so at first glance, and there was a fragility in the way she carried her.

But her body told another story.

Even with the heavy royal dress, her curves remained undeniable.

The years seemed to have refined them.

Her waist still narrowed with elegance before the fuller width of her hips. Julian found it difficult to reconcile even while looking directly at her. Age had touched her face, but not her body.

And the most interesting part was how openly she displayed it.

Her cleavage was on full display.

She did not look embarrassed. Rather she looked unbothered, even faintly amused, as though being the Queen Mother of the kingdom gave her every right to remain desirable in public and no obligation to apologize for it.

Julian’s gaze lingered a second longer than was wise.

There was something dangerous in that kind of confidence.

So this was the King’s mother.

Julian lowered his eyes a fraction before the attention could become obvious, but the impression remained sharp in his mind.

Just then,

The Queen Mother stepped forward and smiled.

“It is my pleasure, dear,” she said.

Her voice carried easily across the courtyard and it was warm enough to sound gracious.

“It has been decades since I last left the palace, so I told His Majesty to bring me along. I hope I will not become a burden to you.”

The Duke bowed almost immediately.

“Everything you see exists because of your grace, Your Highness,” he said with a careful smile. “This place is as much yours as it is ours.”

The Queen Mother laughed.

The sound was light, unexpectedly familiar, and completely at odds with the ceremony surrounding her.

“Come now, Ranchy,” she said. “Stop being so formal. I still remember you running butt-naked through the royal castle after escaping your tutor.”

For a second, the courtyard forgot how to breathe.

The Duke’s face stiffened, then colored in embarrassment. A few knights lowered their eyes at once. Several nobles looked openly stunned. Even some of the royal attendants seemed caught between horror and the desperate urge not to react at all.

“Ranchy,” someone whispered under their breath before wisely falling silent.

The King stepped forward, clearly embarrassed.

“Mother,” he said, “we are in the presence of everyone. You should refrain from speaking that way.”

The Queen Mother did not look the least bit bothered.

“Oh, hush, Ellian,” she said. “If a mother cannot remind an old boy of his youth, then what exactly is the point of living long?”

The use of the King’s name, spoken so casually, sent another ripple through the courtyard.

The King’s jaw tensed.

“Mother.”

“Yes, yes,” she replied, already waving his protest aside with two fingers. “I am behaving. More or less.”

Her gaze moved next to Olivia.

For a moment the Queen Mother studied the Duchess with open appraisal. Then she smiled again, slower this time.

“And you must be Olivia,” she said. “I have heard more about you than you probably realize. Beauty, composure, and a household that did not collapse under politics. That is rarer than most men deserve.”

Olivia bowed.

“You honor me, Your Highness.”

“I am simply old enough to recognize competence when I see it,” the Queen Mother answered. Her eyes softened, though not without a glint of mischief. “You have kept Ranchy presentable. That alone deserves praise.”

The Duke looked as if he wished the stone under his feet would open.

Then the Queen Mother turned to Vanessa.

This time her inspection lingered longer.

“And this,” she said, “must be my beautiful future granddaughter-in-law.”

Vanessa lowered her head with perfect courtly grace.

“Vanessa Astran, Your Highness.”

“Yes,” the Queen Mother murmured. “You have your mother’s bearing, and something sharper underneath it. Good. The royal court eats soft girls alive. I would rather welcome one who already understands that smiles are often sharper than knives.”

Vanessa’s reply was calm. “I will do my best not to disappoint the crown.”

“See that you do,” the Queen Mother said. “And see that the crown does not disappoint you either. Marriage is a duty, child, but it need not be a surrender.”

The King cleared his throat, clearly eager to reclaim control of the exchange before his mother dismantled another layer of formality.

The Queen Mother, however, was not finished.

Her eyes moved past Vanessa and settled, with sudden directness, on Julian.

“And you,” she said. “You must be the one everyone has been whispering about.”

Julian bowed.

“Kraven Astran, Your Highness.”

She studied him in silence for a few seconds. There was nothing idle in that look. It was the examination of a woman who had spent a lifetime watching men rise, rot, pretend, and reveal themselves too early.

“You do not look like a disappointment,” she said at last. “That already puts you ahead of half the young lords in the capital.”

“I will take that as a compliment, Your Highness.”

“You should,” she replied. “I do not hand them out for free.”

Before the moment could stretch further, she lifted one hand and pointed toward a young man standing beside the royal carriage.

“That is my grandson,” she said. ” Do try not to start a political incident before lunch.”

A few nervous smiles flickered and died.

Then a young man stepped forward.