Eyes of The Truth

A few days later...

Word spreads like wildfire: the entire realm of Erosia has embraced the Fashion Revolution.

Women everywhere—noble or commoner, merchant or maiden—now strut about in full nudity, proud and pious. Even the Queen herself and her royal daughters walk the palace halls completely bare, their sacred parts greeting the wind with devotion and zero shame.

Truly, my influence is as vast as my Rod.

Then, an ornate envelope arrives—sealed with the royal crest and dipped in what I assume is magical perfume and political lust.

Inside is an invitation:

> "Princess Layla has reached the blessed age of 18. To celebrate her Coming of Age Ceremony, all noblemen are invited. As a devout follower of the Goddess Velmaria, Princess Layla will choose one nobleman to receive her sacred first time. May the goddess bless the chosen with much pleasure and even more stamina."

Hmm.

A golden opportunity... to taste the royal intimacy.

Surely, this is my chance to donate a bountiful offering of love juice to the crown.

Then, without warning, that familiar harassing voice returns—the sultry, dramatic voice of the divine.

"Congratulations, my champion!" cries Velmaria, Goddess of Love, Lust, and the Spiritually Overqualified. "For your glorious achievements, I now bestow upon you... the Eyes of Truth!"

Wait—what? The Eyes of Truth? The same power her priestesses use to detect paternity with a single squint?

"Thank you, O sexy Goddess!" I shout upward, arms wide. "I shall use it wisely... and pervertedly!"

She cackles maniacally, then fades away into the ethereal void—probably to go watch more mortals get freaky.

As I bask in my newfound divine power, Lisette—one of my loyal, forever-nude maids—walks past me, her hips swaying like a hypnotic pendulum.

Without warning, my Eyes of Truth activate on their own. My vision goes golden. And then...

Boom.

I see inside her womb.

A child is forming.

My child.

I... I am a Papa.

Lisette is carrying my offspring!

"Lisette, come here," I say, voice trembling with fatherly shock and smug pride.

She approaches gracefully, her body glowing with maternal divinity and erotic lighting.

"What is it, my lord?" she asks.

I pull her into a brief, tender hug and plant a kiss on her lips—a kiss full of gratitude and vague confusion.

She giggles. "My lord... do you want Lisette today?"

I shake my head solemnly. "I always want you, Lisette. But not today."

She nods in understanding.

Just before she leaves, I give her a quick, reverent butt squeeze—because I am, above all, a man of tradition.

Then I turn to Verona, who has been standing nearby like a naked statue of discipline.

"Verona, prepare for tomorrow," I command. "The palace awaits."

She bows. "Yes, my Lord. Shall I polish your Rod?"

"No need," I reply with a grin. "Let it shine in its natural glory."

I lean back, hands behind my head, smiling like a wicked mastermind whose plan to seduce an entire kingdom is somehow succeeding.

Hehehe... tomorrow, I attend a royal Coming-of-Age Ceremony.

And I intend to come... of age.