Son of the Hero King

Special 37: A cow woman and an elf walk in a room

The corridors of the Tower of Babel were quiet at this late hour, most of the maids having retired for the evening. Only the soft glow of magical lights illuminated the path as two women walked side by side, their footsteps echoing against the polished marble.

Milia moved with her usual grace, her brown hair swaying gently with each step. Despite the late hour and the mountain of work she had completed for the wedding preparations, her posture remained perfect, her expression serene. Only those who knew her well would notice the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers occasionally twitched as if mentally checking off items on an invisible list.

Beside her, Satella walked with a different kind of tension. Her blue eyes were focused straight ahead.

The silence between them stretched, not quite comfortable but not hostile either.

Finally, Milia broke the quiet. "I appreciate you taking the time to walk with me, Queen Satella. I know you must be tired from your training earlier."

Satella's eyes flickered toward her companion. "It's nothing. I had no other plans for the evening." She paused, then added with a touch of stiffness, "And you need not use such formalities. We are... within His Highness's domain."

"As you wish." Milia's lips curved into a small smile. "Though I must confess, I find it rather ironic."

"What do you mean?"

"You defer to His Highness's authority so readily, yet you still struggle with mine." Milia's tone was not accusatory, merely observant. "I've noticed you often hesitate when I give instructions to the staff, even when they concern your own comfort."

Satella's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she said nothing. When she finally spoke, her words were measured. "I mean no disrespect to your position. It's simply... difficult for me to reconcile."

"Reconcile what?"

"You are a Duke-rank." The words came out blunt, almost harsh. Satella seemed to realize this and softened her tone. "Forgive me. I do not mean to sound dismissive of your achievements. Reaching Duke rank is no small feat, and I understand you have worked hard to attain your current strength. However..."

It did not matter how close Milia was to becoming a King. As long as she did not pass the threshold, then nothing changed.

"However, you are a King-rank," Milia finished for her, her expression unchanged. "And in your world, power determines hierarchy. A Duke should not command a King."

"Precisely." Satella looked relieved that Milia understood. "It goes against everything I was raised to believe. The strong rule, the weak serve. This is the natural order we elves follow."

"And yet," Milia continued, her voice calm and even, "you follow my instructions anyway. You accept my authority over the operations of this tower, even when it conflicts with your instincts. Why?"

Satella was quiet for several steps. They passed by a window, and moonlight spilled across the corridor, painting everything in silver. Finally, she spoke. "Because I have observed how the others behave. Lilith, who is far stronger than you. Medea, Persephone, and Freya, who are King-rank like myself. Even Pandora, who despite her... complications, is still formidable in her own right. They all defer to you in matters concerning the tower's administration."

"And this puzzles you."

"It did. At first." Satella's expression was thoughtful. "I could not understand why powerful women would willingly submit to someone weaker. It made no sense. Power is absolute. Or so I thought."

Milia tilted her head slightly, inviting Satella to continue.

"Then I realized something." Satella's voice grew quieter. "They do not submit to you because you are powerful. They submit because Sol respects your authority. And what he respects, they respect in turn."

"Very astute." Milia nodded approvingly. "You have identified the core of it. His Highness trusts me to manage his household, his operations, and to some extent, even his relationships. That trust is the foundation of my authority here. Without it, I would be nothing more than a glorified head maid."

"But why?" Satella's frustration leaked into her voice. "Why does he grant you such trust? Surely there are others more qualified. Medea has wisdom from a thousand years of life. Lilith is a monster. Camelia was the Supreme Daughter. What makes you so special?"

For the first time, a genuine smile touched her lips. "Because of them all, I am the sanest and most mature." She puffed her chest with genuine pride.

Satella looked at her, completely speechless.

"I do not have Medea's wisdom or Lilith's genius or Camelia's divine blessing." Milia continued. "What I have is loyalty that has never wavered, and the ability to not let jealousy control my actions."

"That's..," Satella said slowly.

“I am sure it must seem strange to you. But you will understand when you spend more time with the other women.”

She shook her head. “Joke aside. I have an obsession he values. He knows that no matter what happens, no matter how many women enter his life, I will always be his shadow. I will handle the tasks others find distasteful. I will bear the burdens others cannot. I will stand where he needs me to stand, do what he needs me to do, without question or hesitation."

"But you are still weaker than most of his women," Satella said, then immediately looked horrified at her own bluntness. "I apologize, that was—"

"True?" Milia smiled. "It is true. I am weaker. Though I obtained the power of Famine, in terms of pure value, Nuwa could easily replace me, and nothing much would change. But strength is not the only measure of worth in His Highness's eyes. He values loyalty, intelligence, dedication, and, more importantly, love. These things matter to him as much as, if not more than, raw power."

"You make yourself sound like a tool ready for everything."

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"A tool is exactly what I am," Milia said simply. "But I am his tool. His most trusted instrument. And there is pride in that, more pride than you might imagine."

“Pride, huh?” The way Satella looked at Milia started to change.

They walked in silence for a moment, Satella digesting this information. Finally, she spoke again, her voice softer. "I understand. Or at least, I think I'm beginning to. Pride comes in all forms, and yours is undoubtedly worthy of respect. It reminds me of the Pride that pushes our Grand Priest.”

This was the highest praise Satella ever gave to anyone.

The Grand Priest of the elves was one of the oldest elves alive. A man who could have become a demigod but refused to ascend out of devotion for Tiamat. For many, it might seem foolish. But the purity of his Pride had always been a golden standard in the tribe.

Satella looked down at her hands, at the faint glow of mana that always seemed to surround King-rank beings. "I have power. But this power seems so measly in this tower. He already grasped the authority of the elves as well. I don't know what I have left to offer him. He doesn’t need me anymore.”

"Then perhaps tonight will help you discover it." Milia resumed walking, and Satella fell into step beside her.

"Tonight?"

"Mmm. That is why I asked you to accompany me, after all. I thought it might be beneficial for both of us." Milia's expression turned slightly mischievous. "Tell me, do you have any friends in this tower?"

The question caught Satella off guard. "Friends? I... no. I speak with Pandora occasionally, but I would not call us friends. We simply share a certain understanding."

"An understanding of what it means to have sold oneself for power," Milia said without judgment. "Yes, I can see how that would create a bond. But you need more than shared trauma to build genuine connections."

"I'm not sure I know how to make friends," Satella admitted quietly. "As Queen, I had subjects. As a fighter, I had rivals. But friends? That concept has always been foreign to me. Jasmine, the Supreme Daughter, is more of a sister to me.”

"Then allow me to introduce you to a shortcut." Milia's smile widened. "In my experience, there are few things that bond women faster than sharing the same man's bed."

Satella stopped walking so abruptly that she nearly stumbled. "What?"

"You heard me correctly." Milia's tone was matter-of-fact, as if she were discussing dinner arrangements rather than something so intimate. "Tonight, we are going to give His Highness a bachelor party of sorts. A small celebration before his wedding tomorrow."

"A bachelor party," Satella repeated slowly, her mind struggling to process this information. "With... with both of us?"

"His first woman and his most recent one," Milia confirmed. "It seemed poetic, in a way. The woman who has been with him longest and the woman who joined him most recently, coming together to celebrate this milestone in his life."

"I don't... I'm not sure this is appropriate," Satella stammered, her usual composure completely shattered. Her first time had been next to Jasmine, but this was completely different.

She had known Jasmine for centuries. Meanwhile, she had only met Milia a few days ago. As for the orgy she participated in? This happened with Kiyohime present. So Satella did not mind that episode too much.

"He is about to marry Medea. Shouldn't he be spending this time with her or preparing for the ceremony?"

"Medea has sequestered herself to prepare for tomorrow. She is being attended by her sisters and will not emerge until the wedding itself." Milia's eyes gleamed with amusement at Satella's flustered state. "As for appropriateness, His Highness has never been one for conventional morality. Besides, this was discussed and approved by the harem council."

"The what?"

"The harem council. We meet regularly to discuss matters concerning His Highness's relationships, schedule time with him fairly, and resolve any conflicts that might arise. It's quite efficient, actually." Milia spoke as if this were the most normal thing in the world. "I serve as the de facto leader, though all decisions are made collectively."

Satella's head was spinning. "There's a council for his harem?"

"Of course. Did you think we all simply waited around hoping for his attention? No, we are organized. We communicate. We support each other, even when dealing with jealousy or possessiveness." Milia's expression grew more serious. "That is how we maintain harmony despite our numbers. That is why we can function as a cohesive group rather than tearing each other apart."

"I had no idea such a thing existed."

"You wouldn't. You've been keeping to yourself since arriving here, training alone, eating alone, speaking to no one but His Highness when summoned." Milia's tone was gentle but firm. "That ends tonight. Tonight, you begin to truly integrate into this household. And what better way than to strengthen your bond with His Highness while also forming a connection with me?"

"I..." Satella looked genuinely lost. "I don't know what to say. This is all so sudden. I'm not prepared. I don't even know what to—"

"You need not overthink it," Milia assured her. "His Highness is not a complicated man. He enjoys pleasure, certainly, but more than that, he enjoys connection. Intimacy. The feeling of being truly close to someone." She reached out and gently touched Satella's arm. "Just be yourself. Let yourself be vulnerable. That is all he truly wants from any of us."

They had reached the door to Sol's office. Milia paused, her hand on the handle, and looked at Satella with an expression that was surprisingly kind.

"I know you are uncertain. I know you feel out of place here. But I am offering you something precious tonight. The chance to belong. The chance to have friends, companions, people who understand what it means to love the same man and navigate that complicated dynamic together." Milia's voice dropped to almost a whisper.

Satella stared at her, and for the first time since arriving at the tower, she felt something crack in the walls she had built around her heart. "Why?" she asked, her voice rough. "Why would you do this for me? We barely know each other."

"Because His Highness cares for you, which means I care for you by extension," Milia answered honestly. She had no need nor desire to lie, and this honesty was perfectly conveyed to Satella.

Satella took a shaky breath, then nodded. "Alright. I... I will trust you."

"Good." Milia smiled and opened the door. "Then let us give His Highness a night to remember."

The office was empty when they entered, and the magical lights dimmed to a soft glow. Sol's desk was clear of paperwork for once, a rarity that spoke to how much effort he had put into clearing his schedule before the wedding.

"He should return shortly," Milia said, moving to stand by the window.

Satella followed her, unsure of where to stand or what to do with her hands. The nervousness that had been building throughout their walk was now at a fever pitch. "Milia, I... what exactly are we supposed to do? Should we wait here? Should we—"

"Relax," Milia interrupted, turning to face her with an amused expression. "You look like you're preparing for battle, not a night of pleasure."

"I feel like I'm preparing for battle," Satella admitted. "At least in battle, I know what I'm doing."

"Don't worry. I will guide you through this." Milia moved closer, placing both hands on Satella's shoulders.

It was quite funny. Looking at them like this, it would be hard to guess that Satella was in reality far, far older than Milia.

But if Milia was the kind of woman who would let age deter her, she would not be the one leading a council filled with women who were thousands of years old. In her eyes, Satella was nothing more than an ageless immortal, yet immature woman.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor made them both turn toward the door. Milia straightened her posture. Satella, meanwhile, felt her heart begin to race, her palms growing damp with nervous sweat.

The door opened, and Sol stepped inside, his golden hair catching the light. He looked tired but content. The smile on his face widened when he saw them both waiting for him.

He had already found their presence. But it was important to show the appropriate reaction.

"Milia. Satella." His eyes moved between them, curiosity evident in his expression. "I wasn't expecting a welcoming committee. Is everything alright?"

His curiosity was genuine. He always did his best not to listen to conversations happening in his domain. For one, it was useless information he did not need. But he also wanted to protect the minimum level of privacy.

"Everything is perfect, Your Highness," Milia said smoothly, moving toward him with grace. "We simply thought you might appreciate some company this evening. After all, tomorrow is a very important day."

"Company," Sol repeated, his gaze softening as he caught the undertone in her words. A slow smile spread across his face. "I see. And what kind of company did you have in mind?"

"The kind that celebrates new beginnings and honors old bonds," Milia replied, reaching out to gently straighten his collar. "Also, the kind that leaves you breathless and dirty but immensely content.”

Sol's eyes became filled with desire. He looked past Milia to Satella, who stood stiff by the window. As much as a beast of lust he was, he did not want her to act if she felt forced to.

"Satella," he said gently, "you don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable."

"I want to," she interrupted, surprising herself with the firmness in her voice. "I want to be here. I want..." She paused, searching for the right words. "I want to be part of this."

The smile that lit up Sol's face was radiant, and Satella felt something warm bloom in her chest at the sight of it.

"Then I am honored to have you both here," he said softly. He extended his hand toward Satella. "Come here."

She moved without thinking, crossing the room to place her hand in his. His grip was warm and firm, grounding her in the moment. Milia moved to his other side, and suddenly Satella was acutely aware of how small this space had become, how charged the air felt.

"Shall we move somewhere more comfortable?" Milia suggested, her voice low and intimate. "Your private chambers would be more suitable for what we have planned."

"Lead the way," Sol agreed, his voice rough with anticipation. He had already spent the night before with Nefertiti and Nent. But his lust was endless.