“Wait, I’m Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I’m a Guy!”

Steam curled into the air as hot water splashed across the tiled floor, echoing softly within.

The scent of herbal oils and dried petals lingered faintly in the mist, soothing the senses and the air.

They didn’t have much time, but really... The two doesn't care much. 

Mize clutched a folded cloth to her chest, bare feet stepping cautiously into the shallow pool as Liam poured a bucketful of warm water over his own head with a long, deep breath. 

Droplets rolled down his toned chest and arms, muscles flexing as he reached for a bar of soap and turned to glance at Mize.

“You can help scrub my back,” he offered casually, tossing the cloth over his shoulder as he sat at the edge, back facing Mize. “And I’ll return the favor after.”

Mize blinked. 

Then frowned, cheeks red.

“N-no"

The answer came flat and firm, but of course wth a bit of stutter.

Liam looked back with a short chuckle. “Still shy?”

“Not really,” Mize muttered, stepping farther into the pool, steam kissing her flushed skin.

 “I just don’t feel like it.”

Still, they were both bare, water sloshing softly with each subtle movement. 

There was no real embarrassment anymore, just a strange, lingering warmth under her skin.

The first time being exposed, quite shy, but overtime she got "used" to it. 

Despite being her first time like this, Mize felt oddly calm.

She dipped a cloth into the water, twisting it before gently trailing it down her shoulder.

Beside him, Liam leaned forward, eyes closed as he began scrubbing his arms and neck with unhurried strokes.

“I’ll start then,” Liam murmured, stepping closer behind her. 

Mize flinched slightly as Liam’s hand touched her back. 

She wanted to complain that she literally said no just now. But really, Liam probably wouldn't care and continued anyway. 

The touch was gentle, slow, just enough to lather the soap into her skin. 

It was quiet for a moment, save for the soft slosh of water and the distant echo of falling droplets.

“You missed a spot on your shoulder,” Liam added lightly, reaching over with the cloth.

“I can reach it myself.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help.”

Mize’s body tensed a little under Liam’s fingers. 

Her figure, soft yet elegant, had a sculpted curve that contrasted sharply with her refined features. 

Skin pale with a pink flush under the heat, water gliding along the arc of her waist and the swell of her hips. 

Her back dipped slightly, posture unsure. 

“You’re too quiet,” Liam muttered, rinsing the cloth. “You’re thinking again.”

“...You mentioned a test today?”

Liam nodded, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah. Battle test. I want you to learn, it's now or never "

"Strength without control, what are you without it?"

Mize’s brow creased as she rinsed her arms. “It’s a little fast, isn’t it?”

“Fast is normal in this world. You get thrown in before you’re ready.” Liam stood, water streaming down his frame. “But I trust them. I trust you.”

Mize didn’t respond right away. Her hands slowed as she scrubbed her collarbone, then nodded faintly, eyes lowered. “Then I’ll keep up.”

"I-I don't want to be a burden"

"I think with my power, I can do almost everything"

Liam stepped behind her again, this time taking the cloth from her hands. “Then let me help you get ready, goddess.”

The title landed softly, teasing, and carried by the echo of splashing water. 

in return, Liam earned a muffled hum with a slight bobbing head. 

'How cute' Liam chuckled. 

The bath stretched on longer than either of them expected. 

The two took their sweet time, as if the world could wait just a little longer.

Steam clung to the air, softening the lines between their bodies and blurring the walls of the chamber.

 Liam basked in the moment, his hands worked at Mize’s back in slow circles, every now and then slipping just slightly off track. 

A palm brushed just beneath the curve of her waist, or lingered for a breath too long near her hips, followed by a casual, “Oops,” and a crooked grin.

Mize flinched each time, the tips of her ears bright red, but she said nothing. 

Her lips remained pressed, eyes darting forward, pretending she didn’t notice Liam’s fingers ghosting under the curve of his rear under the excuse of adjusting his position.

Still, it wasn’t unpleasant. 

It was… oddly comfortable, actually.

Eventually, they finished. 

Their skin warm, muscles relaxed, and tension, of the bad kind, bled away into the water. 

One by one, droplets slid down their backs as they stood from the bath, and with a faint shimmer of magic, they were clothed once again.

Well, Liam used a proper spell.

Mize simply used her innate ability, and her robes appeared like a silken cascade, wrapping tightly along her figure.

This time, her garment was even more form-fitting, hugging her curves just a little closer, tapering along the waist and dipping slightly at the collar. 

It was a clean, radiant white, as if woven from light and cloud.

Liam, on the other hand, emerged in an elegant dark ensemble, a black suit, a matching cloak draped across his shoulders, and a delicate floral bloom nestled in the breast pocket. 

A sleek hat sat neatly over his hair, and he twirled a cane lazily in one hand as if they were just stepping out for an afternoon stroll.

With a flick of that cloak, they left the bedroom and entered the hallway in tandem.

“Are we going to eat first?” Liam asked, voice casual as he gave the cane a light clank against the floor. “Hungry?”

Mize hovered just a few inches above the tiles, her figure weightless and graceful. 

Her long silver-white hair trailed behind like a curtain of moonlight, each strand falling in place. 

She tilted her head and placed one hand at her waist, leaning just slightly as she stretched out.

“I don’t really need to eat anymore, you know,” she said, voice airy with a hint laziness. 

“And why’s that?” Liam turned, brows raised. 

No maids trailed behind them today, curious, but neither seemed to mind.

Mize gave a light shrug. “I am different now. Honestly… I don’t think I need to sleep either. Or even bathe, technically.”

“If I’m dirty,” he added, waving a hand vaguely, “my body just… fixes it on its own.”

"Or I can just fix it with my ability" 

"Creation?" 

"Yes, more like a wish fulfilling "

Liam hummed thoughtfully. “Earlier, you used some kind of ability to clean up all those… liquids.”

“I wanted it done quickly,” Mize replied, unfazed now. She floated with ease beside Liam, more relaxed, less guarded. “Yes, my body can clean itself… but it’s not instant.”

She raised a lock of hair, letting it float in front of her face. 

The strand shimmered faintly, pristine and glossy. “Like this, sometimes it trails on the ground even when I’m floating, and yet it never picks up dust.”

“So it’s a passive skill?” Liam guessed.

“Exactly, or maybe... " Mize nodded. “Being a goddess has its perks.”

"A divine privilege?"

"I think it's called beauty privilege"

"Yeah right" Mize rolled her eyes.

“Must be nice,” Liam muttered, his steps echoing softly ahead. “No sleep, no food, no stains. Makes life… convenient.”

“Precisely,” Mize said, crossing her arms. 

She tried not to smirk, but there was a clear swell of pride.

That subtle, smug delight of someone who knew she had become something extraordinary.

But Liam didn’t slow. His voice drifted back, even and smooth.

“But in a way… you’re becoming less human. I think you’re missing that.”

Mize’s brow twitched. “You’re overthinking it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m more human than anyone else in this world.”

“I hope so,” Liam replied with a small chuckle, steps never faltering as the two disappeared deeper into the corridor.

Liam led the way down the broad corridor, his stride calm, unhurried. 

A faint air of ease in each step. 

The marble floors echoed with the soft rhythm of passing feet, maids in modest uniforms bowed as they passed, their heads lowered. 

Robed clerks scurried by with scrolls in hand, barely sparing a glance before offering their hurried bows. 

Even the guards, straightened the moment Liam came into view, saluting with stiff arms and reverence. 

"My Lord."

"Your Highness."

One after another, the greetings flowed toward Liam like a steady stream, formal. 

And then their eyes would shift.

Toward Mize.

The change was subtle, but obvious. 

Their backs stiffened just a bit more. Their gazes flickered and lingered, not with familiarity, but with a strange reverence. 

It wasn’t the same as what they gave Liam, there was awe, yes, and deference, but also a sharp hidden caution, like they were staring at something not meant to exist in their world.

Mize noticed. Of course she did.

She said nothing at first, just floated a step behind Liam, the soft glide of her hovering feet never touching the polished stone. 

Her long white hair rippled behind, trailing like mist caught in a breeze.

“They adored you,” Liam said offhandedly as they turned a corner, passing another patrol.

 The guards saluted, their eyes gleaming. 

Liam returned the gesture with a lazy flick of the hand, then continued on, and Mize followed at his side.

Adored. That wasn’t quite the word Mize would’ve used.

“They adore you,” Mize murmured under her breath, eyes half-lidded as she glanced toward a nearby servant who gave her a brief, tense bow. “Me? They’re treating me like an alien.”

“You are an alien,” Liam quipped without missing a beat, stopping as they reached the wide archway of an exit gate that opened into the castle’s gardens.

Two gatekeepers snapped into salute, their heads held high and still. 

Mize met their eyes briefly, saw that same look again. 

Hesitation, unease, respect soaked in something colder, fear... Anxious and more.

“I suppose I am,” Mize admitted with a quiet exhale, glancing back at the guards before letting her gaze drift forward again.

“An alien,” she mused, “a beautiful alien. So beautiful, in fact, I might as well be untouchable to them.”

Liam chuckled faintly. “In most cases, only the powerful would dare to touch something like you. Or try to claim you. Trophy hunters, the lot of them.”

Mize arched a brow, smile curling with teasing intent. “Was that a warning? Afraid someone might snatch me away?”

“Perhaps I am.”

The answer landed softly, but hit hard, oddly strange too. 

Mize blinked, caught off guard.

 Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. A flicker of confusion, or maybe something else crossed her face. 

She stopped walking for a heartbeat, looking at Liam's back as the man continued ahead, his cane tapping rhythmically with each step.

Liam didn’t turn. Didn’t look back. But he knew exactly what he’d said.

They stepped into the garden.

The backyard of the castle bloomed with gentle life, flowers stretched in every direction, their colors spilling over in waves of soft pinks, deep purples, and sun-kissed golds. 

The air was rich with fragrance, floral and damp with morning dew. 

Bees flitted lazily between blossoms, and the soft chirping of birds added a tranquil hum beneath the silence.

Mize breathed it in. 

Deeply. The scent, the calm, the quiet peace of it all, it helped ease that awkward tension still lingering in her chest.

She drifted off the stone path, gliding toward a patch of blossoms where she plucked a vivid blue flower and tucked it behind her ear.

 Another one, this time pale pink, she sniffed before spinning it absently in her fingers.

“If only we could decorate that gloomy room of yours with these,” Mize sighed, voice gentle, eyes on the petals. 

"It feels suffocating in there. You’ve got nothing but a big bed in the middle and a bunch of fancy decorations tossed around like afterthoughts.”

Liam didn’t stop walking. 

He adjusted his grip on the cane and let its tip tap against the cobbled path, his tone dry.

“I’m not much of a stylist.”

The sound of the cane echoed faintly behind them as they strolled deeper into the blooming garden. 

Mize trailed just behind, flower in her hair, thoughts quietly swirling.

"I suppose I am not a stylist too myself" Mize smiled.