An Invitation of Power

An Invitation of Power

The corridor was vast—grand enough to echo his footsteps and yet quiet enough to cradle them in regal silence. Polished obsidian floors stretched endlessly beneath a vaulted ceiling adorned with intricate silver etchings of moons and wolves. Gilded chandeliers, shaped like crescent moons, spilled golden light over the velvet-draped walls and the stained-glass windows that painted soft colour across the floor.

 His golden eyes drank in the beauty and power etched into every stone of the estate. So… this is my mansion. The Moonwalker Estate. The name itself rang with weight—noble, ancient, feared.

He hadn't seen it until now. When he transmigrated into this world last evening, he had stepped beyond the bedchamber. Until now, he had been in his room, absorbing the memories of the previous Leon Moonwalker, learning the names, the places, the history that now belonged to him. And more importantly, he had deepened his connection with the young girl who called him Father.

His golden eyes flickered from one masterpiece to the next—oil paintings of the previous Dukes, detailed suits of armour displayed proudly in alcoves, a full-length mirror framed in sapphire. The world he came from had nothing like this. No magic. No noble blood. No legacy. But now… this was his. Yet now, as he walked these halls, he did not feel like an imposter. He moved like the rightful heir to this legacy. Because I am.  He carried himself with the poise of a Duke, shoulders squared, steps measured. Yet inwardly, he felt a strange mix of pride and surreal awe.

This life… is mine now.

Beside him walked Aria, his head maid, her movements quiet as moonlight. Every few steps, she would glance at him through her long lashes, her violet eyes catching glimpses of his sharp profile, the way his dark hair gently swayed with each step. A faint blush bloomed across her pale cheeks. But Leon didn't notice—his thoughts lost in memories and silent admiration of the estate's majesty.

After a few turns—left, then right, then another left—they came to a large black door marked by the Moonwalker crest. Leon paused. He didn't hesitate or look confused. The path had come to him naturally. This is my study, he thought.

The inherited memories of the previous Leon were sharp. Navigating the mansion was like walking through a place he'd lived all his life, even though he'd just arrived in this body yesterday.

He pushed open the door.

The duke's study was nothing short of opulent.

A towering window behind the main desk spilled warm sunlight over mahogany floors. Thick velvet curtains the colour of midnight framed the glass. Tall shelves brimming with books lined the walls—ancient tomes of history, magic, politics. A massive silver-and-black desk stood at the centre, carved with symbols of the Moonwalker lineage. On the right side of the room, a mounted sword rested above a cabinet of rare scrolls. The scent of parchment and tea lingered in the air.

And seated calmly before the desk, sipping tea, was a middle-aged man.

He wore formal navy robes lined with silver—symbol of the Crown's peace envoy. His silver hair was tied back neatly, and his dark eyes, sharp and calm, settled on Leon as the door creaked open.

He rose immediately and turned with a courteous bow.

"Duke Leon Moonwalker," the man said with a courteous bow, his voice rich and steady.

Leon's eyes narrowed subtly, but he kept his composure. The inherited memories confirmed it—this was Sir Harven, the royal messenger of peace. A man the former Leon had met several times at court in past.

Leon offered a subtle nod, the corner of his lips lifting in regal acknowledgment. He stepped forward and took his seat behind the desk, gesturing politely with one hand. "Be seated."

Harven nodded and sat once again, folding his hands atop his lap. Behind Leon, Aria stood quietly, her posture straight and respectful, but her presence warm—like a flame always burning loyally behind him.

"Your Grace," Harven began, "His Majesty the King has sent you an invitation."

Leon raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his gaze. "Oh?"

From within his robe, Harven withdrew a sealed envelope—dark parchment embossed with silver. A wax seal of a crescent moon marked it as genuine.

Leon accepted the letter, running his thumb over the royal insignia.

The Moon… he mused inwardly. So, the King calls.

He broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

The script was elegant and flowing:

"To the Esteemed Duke of Moonwalker House,

By order of His Majesty King Aurelian Moonlight, you are invited to attend the Grand Coming-of-Age Ceremony of Her Royal Highness, Princess Lira Moonlight, to be held exactly one month from today at the royal palace in Moonspire.

Your presence is not only welcomed… it is expected.

May the Moon bless your path.

—By Royal Decree."

Leon exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.

Princess Lira… the only heir to the throne.

The Moonstone Kingdom's jewel. And her ceremony… it's no ordinary event. It's a kingdom-wide celebration, revered like a festival.

He closed the letter thoughtfully, glancing up to find Harven watching him with a gentle smile.

"A surprise invitation, perhaps?" Harven said softly.

Leon's lips curved into a faint smirk. "A curious one."

After a moment of silence, he folded the letter neatly and placed it on his desk. "Very well. I shall attend. On time."

Harven bowed his head respectfully. "Then I shall inform His Majesty. Thank you for your time, Duke Leon. May the Moonlight guide you."

Leon nodded; his expression composed. "Convey my gratitude to His Majesty for invitation."

Harven rose and took his leave, disappearing quietly through the doors.

As the door shut, silence fell once more in the room—thick, thoughtful.

Leon leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger lightly on the armrest.

If I were to take control of the Moonstone Kingdom… this may be the perfect opening. A lone princess… a kingdom without a male heir…

His thoughts spiralled—calculating, dangerous, intrigued.

And then—softly—

"My Lord," Aria's voice called, snapping him back.

He turned, eyes falling on the Purple-haired beauty, standing poised like a vision at dawn.

He smiled gently. "Yes?"

Her cheeks warmed again at his gaze. "Before you begin your duties… would you like to have breakfast?"

He blinked, surprised. In the flow of events, he had indeed forgotten.

"…I haven't eaten," he murmured.

Aria nodded with a smile. "Shall I bring you fruit and tea here?"

"That would be perfect," he replied, voice smoother now. "Thank you, Aria."

She bowed, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders like silk, then turned and walked toward the door. As she walked away, Leon's gaze drifted—inevitably—downward.

Her hips swayed with grace beneath the tight fabric of her uniform. Each step was poetry, each sway a tease. For a brief second, he imagined how those hips would feel beneath his hands.

And then—

[Ding!]

A crisp mechanical chime rang inside his mind.

[System Alert: New Mission Issued]

[Mission Triggered: Fuck Aria – Head Maid of House Moonwalker]

[Objective: Make Aria Completely Yours]

[Reward: Scent of Arousal, +20 Black Points]

[Warning: Mission Failure will result in the disabling of Touch of Charm]

[Time Limit: 20 Days]

Leon nearly choked on his thoughts.

What the f—?

He sat up straighter, eyes widening subtly, heart racing not from panic—but thrill. The system… had just given him a mission again. And his second target… was Aria.

She's exquisite… loyal, warm, and temptingly close. I was already thinking of making her mine. Slowly… thoroughly. The system simply confirmed what I already intended.

He let out a long breath, his golden eyes glinted with rising hunger.

And he thin now… the system gives me 20 days? I won't need that long.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips.

A grin that spoke of conquest.

Of control.

Of things to come.