Episode 7 A Sly Fox Jumps Over

The day had been long and filled with the weight of responsibilities that came with ruling a planet. I sought solace in the serene confines of my luxurious suite, nestled in the tallest building in the city. Ah, what a luxury!

A vast, minimalist bathroom provided the perfect sanctuary for a moment of relaxation. This spacious oasis was an elegant celebration of simplicity. White marble adorned the walls and floor, casting a soft, warm glow in the gentle light emanating from concealed fixtures. Clean lines and uncluttered spaces defined the minimalistic design, creating an ambiance of profound tranquility.

In the center of the room lay a deep, oval-shaped bathtub, large enough to accommodate even my regal self—oh, look at me talking like a rich bitch.

A stream of warm water, infused with fragrant essential oils, flowed gently into the tub from a sleek, high-tech faucet, filling the air with the soothing scent of lavender and rosemary.

I shed the regal robes that draped my form, revealing the simplicity of a white silk undergarment. I lowered myself into the inviting embrace of the bath, the warm water enveloping me in its soothing embrace.

As I reclined in the tub, I allowed my mind to wander. The cares of the day gradually dissolved, replaced by a profound sense of relaxation. I closed my eyes, allowing the gentle sounds of ambient music to wash over me, the melodies enhancing the sensation of serenity.

The wall of mirrors stretched far and wide on the accent wall, creating a mesmerizing reflection that seemed to multiply the image of the alternate me—a vision of wellness and vitality. The reflection that stared back was undeniably mine, yet it bore a striking difference—a glimpse of what could have been. It was a face that would have been mine in my old world if I had consistently slept right, nourished myself properly, and prioritized self-care over the years.

At that moment, I couldn't help but notice the subtle nuances. My skin, once dulled by fatigue and stress, now glows with radiant vitality. The faint lines that had etched their stories on my face had softened, and my eyes sparkled with a clarity and vibrancy that I hadn't seen in years. This was my face, but at the same time, not really.

Damn, I'm so fine.

I browsed through the latest news using the holographic display that hovered in front of me. The holographic interface projected a cascade of headlines and articles, from tabloid drama to political intrigue.

With a simple gesture, I selected an article of interest and allowed the holographic screen to unfold.

As I scrolled through the holographic news display, a poignant image caught my eye—a photograph capturing a candid moment. In the image, I was embracing a sobbing refugee, offering comfort and solace.

While my intention had been solely to provide support and reassurance, I couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness. The image seemed to portray a narrative of kindness, and it was not my intention to showcase or draw attention to my actions. My compassion for the refugees was genuine, and I had no desire for it to be this big of a deal. I thought leaders did that.

In this moment of reflection, I understood that my role as Queen inevitably placed me in the public eye, and every action was subject to judgment.

It was a reminder of the delicate balance between genuine empathy and the perception of it, especially in a world where actions are often magnified and interpreted in different ways. I don't want to come off as someone using the media to skew people's perceptions of me.

A notification from the game system appeared, a bright blue text box materializing before me. It displayed the public approval rating, and to my pleasant surprise, it had increased. Huh, I thought I would get more backlash.

With a sense of satisfaction, I acknowledged the growing approval rating.

"I hope things get easier from now on," I said with a sigh.

The following day, I noticed that Eyseck appeared somewhat frustrated as he approached me in the throne room. His expression hinted at a sense of exasperation, and I couldn't help but wonder what had prompted such a reaction.

Eyseck, with a sigh, and with a gesture of his hand, a virtual inbox of letters appeared before me. As I examined them, he explained, "Those are consort proposals."

His words carried a mix of bemusement and annoyance, suggesting that the matter at hand was far from simple.

Concert? Oh, consort. These were marriage proposals.

As I glanced through the letters, each sealed with the intentions and aspirations of potential consorts, I realized that the complexities of my role as Queen extended beyond governance and leadership. The realm of personal relationships and alliances was also a realm I had to navigate with care and consideration.

Wow, these marriage proposals sure looked like resumes and biodata.

I immediately deleted all the letters that contained descriptions of the size and shape of their genitalia. Even in this world, you can't escape them, huh?

Amidst the full inbox of consort proposals, my fingers fell on something different. As I touched it open, I discovered that it was not a marriage proposal but, rather, an invitation to a dinner. Well, I suppose it was a welcome change of pace from the weighty matters of state and alliance-building.

Intrigued by the prospect of a different kind of evening, I decided to accept the dinner invitation. It was an opportunity to step away from the formalities of my role as Queen Reina and engage in a more relaxed and personal setting.

As I made my decision, Eyseck, my loyal secretary, couldn't help but inquire, his curiosity evident in his expression. "Your Majesty, may I inquire what you just accepted?"

I realized that I hadn't communicated my decision to him, and I replied, "A dinner invitation. It seemed different."

Eyseck's brows furrowed slightly as he pressed further. "From whom, pray tell?"

I opened the letter again and read the sender's name aloud: "Sebastian Foxx?"

Eyseck's reaction was a subtle mix of surprise and concern. His eyes held a hint of caution as he considered the implications of this unexpected dinner invitation.

"Your Majesty," he said carefully, "I trust your judgment, but it is important to approach this dinner with caution. Seba—Mr. Foxx's intentions may not always align with our own."

"It's just dinner, Eyseck," I reassured him, reaching out to brush my hand against his arm. "You can come too if you're worried."

Eyseck, however, shook his head.

"I appreciate the offer, Your Majesty," he replied with a small, appreciative smile, "but I believe it's best for you to handle this meeting on your own terms. I'll be here to support you in any way you need."

For some reason, I feel like I lost affection points.

With a nod of acknowledgment, I prepared myself for the upcoming dinner, knowing that Eyseck would be standing by, ready to assist and advise as needed, even from the sidelines.

With a sense of anticipation and a desire for a change of scenery, I was eager to embrace this newfound opportunity for a time away from my usual responsibilities.

I arrived at the designated hotel restaurant, and as I stepped inside, I was greeted by an atmosphere of opulence and refinement. The restaurant was a testament to modern elegance and luxury, designed to captivate the senses and provide an unforgettable dining experience.

Creamy ivory and muted gold hues dominated the decor, casting a warm, inviting glow throughout the space. Soft, ambient lighting hung from crystal chandeliers, casting gentle, ethereal patterns on the walls and tables.

A grand, floor-to-ceiling glass facade overlooked a stunning panoramic view of the cityscape, allowing the city lights to twinkle like a sea of stars. The restaurant's location high above the city added to the sense of exclusivity, as if we were dining among the clouds.

Soft instrumental music played in the background, adding to the ambiance of refined tranquility. The restaurant's bar, located in a corner with a mirrored backdrop, showcased an impressive array of spirits and wines.

Despite the restaurant's opulent and inviting atmosphere, an air of solitude hung in the air. There were no other diners present, no lively conversations, or the clinking of cutlery. Instead, the restaurant's expansive space lay empty, with only one solitary candlelit table positioned by the window.

The single table stood in stark contrast to the otherwise unoccupied dining area. The flickering candle on the table's surface cast dancing shadows against the pristine setting, creating an intimate and almost surreal ambiance.

As I approached the candlelit table, I couldn't help but wonder about this unusual arrangement. I took my seat at the candlelit table by the window. A soft voice greeted me with a touch of formality.

"Ah, you have arrived early, my Queen." The voice belonged to the man who had invited me to dinner, Sebastian Foxx.

"Mr. Foxx," I replied, "thank you for extending the invitation. I appreciate the opportunity to meet and discuss matters of mutual interest." This was our first meeting, and I studied him closely as I acknowledged his presence.

Sebastian Foxx, the man who sat across from me, possessed an undeniable allure. His long, straight, ebony hair cascaded effortlessly down his back. A streak of white tracing its elegant path from the roots made a stark contrast.

His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of topaz, reminiscent of the most precious gemstones. Those eyes held a world of experience, hinting at a lifetime of intrigue.

And then there was his smile—an enigmatic curve of his lips that exuded a seductive charm.

Sebastian appeared slightly older than myself, his features carrying a mature and seasoned quality that only added to his mystique. His entire presence exuded an aura of sophistication and elegance.

Damn, he was one sexy silver fox.

We continued to chat while we waited for our dishes. Sebastian shared that he was a hospital administrator and had been keenly intrigued by my actions in welcoming the refugees with open arms.

He told me he held great admiration for my compassionate stance, which had prompted him to take swift action. He had sent his finest doctors and medical teams to provide aid and care to the refugees, ensuring that their health and safety were prioritized above all else.

"You can cut the bullshit now," I calmly said while taking a sip of the wine. Delicious. 

Despite the initial exchange of pleasantries and the genuine appreciation for my actions, it soon became apparent to me that Sebastian had ulterior motives. There was an underlying agenda, and it was clear that he sought something from me beyond a simple dinner conversation.

"Tell me what you want," I leaned back in my velvet chair, "and I'll tell you if I want to give it to you." That's right, I stole that line from a drama I watched.

Before the dinner with Sebastian, Eyseck had taken it upon himself to provide me with any information he could gather about this person. Eyseck had shared what he knew of Sebastian's background and history, shedding light on his past roles and affiliations. He was the former Queen's dog. Now, what does he want with me?

"I—" As Sebastian began to respond, his words were abruptly cut short by the arrival of our meal.

Plates of exquisite cuisine adorned the table, each dish a work of culinary art. The enticing aromas wafted from the plates, tantalizing the senses and momentarily diverting our attention from our conversation.

"Let's talk later. We are in the presence of delicious food, Mr. Foxx," I take a fork into my hand. "Shall we dine?"