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"So, Rodion," he whispered, his voice low enough that only he could hear, "what have we got on Serelith? Any tidbits that could help in negotiations? I don’t plan to walk into a snake’s lair without some bait."

<Compiling data now. Potential negotiation points include: Serelith’s interest in rare spell tomes stored in the restricted archives, certain classified arcane knowledge, specifically regarding illusion magic, that she requested access to previously but was denied.

Additionally, records indicate Serelith has made requests for materials involving an elixir—substance unknown—listed in the alchemical inventory of the royal court. Probability of these items being of interest to her: 89%.>

Mikhailis nodded, keeping his eyes on the projected route while navigating the stone halls. "That’s some good stuff, Rodion. But…" He paused for a moment, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I think I already know what Serelith wants from me."

A moment of silence passed before Rodion spoke again.

<You mean to suggest you already possess sufficient leverage? Confidence noted, but statistical likelihood of successful manipulation with unspecified assets remains low. Please reconsider—>

"Relax, Rodion," Mikhailis interrupted, his voice light, yet focused. "I’ve got it covered."

He took a right turn, heading up a winding staircase, his mind shifting back to Serelith’s sly smile earlier that morning. He remembered the amusement in her eyes, the way she looked at him as though she already had the upper hand. Well, he was going to change that. One way or another, he was walking out of this conversation with the control in his hands.

<Remaining distance to destination: 45 meters. Approach point reached in ten, nine, eight...>

Mikhailis didn’t need the countdown—he could see Serelith’s door now, just ahead of him, her name engraved on a small metal plaque. He stopped in front of it, exhaling deeply.

"Time to see how this plays out," he whispered to himself, gathering his resolve. He squared his shoulders, reaching for the handle, and swung the door open.

The moment his eyes landed inside the room, he blinked in confusion, and the words escaped his lips before he even knew it.

"Eh?"

The scene that greeted him was not one he’d expected. There was Serelith, standing in the middle of the chamber, completely unclothed. Her body seemed to shimmer under the soft candlelight—a contrast between the rich tan of her skin, a characteristic of the people of Silvarion Thalor, and her beautiful, straight purple hair cascading down her back.

Her chest was modest compared to Vyrelda or Elowen, but her posture, confident and proud, left no room for judgment.

Mikhailis took it all in, his eyes trailing over her, until his gaze finally found her face—and it was beet red, her brows drawn together as she stared back at him.

Her expression shifted to one of pure annoyance, her hands moving quickly to grab the nearest object—a small statuette—and without hesitation, she hurled it at him.

Mikhailis’s reflexes kicked in, his eyes widening as he ducked back out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Sorry! Sorry! Didn’t mean to barge in!" he shouted through the door, his heart pounding as he stood there, feeling the rush of adrenaline in his veins.

There was a long moment of silence. Mikhailis took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He could hear shuffling from inside the room, and he could only imagine Serelith trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

<Analysis of recent situation indicates significant escalation of tension. Potential for positive outcome diminished. Immediate recovery action is recommended.>

"Yeah, I know, Rodion," Mikhailis muttered, rubbing his forehead as he tried to shake off the embarrassment. "How was I supposed to know she was... well, you know…"

He sighed, leaning back against the wall, his gaze focused on the floor as he waited. After what felt like an eternity, he finally heard her voice from the other side of the door.

"You can enter now."

Mikhailis pushed the door open again, stepping inside, though he kept his gaze averted, his hand still holding the doorknob. When he finally glanced up, he saw Serelith—now dressed in her usual dark robes, her expression a mixture of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite place. She stood with her arms crossed, her lips set in a thin line, though her eyes still held that glint of mischief.

It seemed she was trying her best to act like nothing had happened, as if everything was perfectly normal. Mikhailis couldn’t help it—he opened his mouth, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

"Isn’t it a bit too late to act cool now?" he said, his voice carrying a teasing edge.

Serelith’s eyes narrowed, her expression darkening as her brows furrowed. Her lips parted, a flash of annoyance crossing her face.

Mikhailis’s heart skipped a beat in panic. He immediately waved his hands in front of him, stammering, "Um, no, no, I mean, it’s nothing—nothing at all!" He forced a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension that seemed to thicken the air around them. He cleared his throat, straightening his posture as he attempted to regain some sense of composure.

Serelith, meanwhile, took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment before she let out a sigh. She, too, cleared her throat, as if trying to move past the awkwardness that now hung between them.

"So?" she said finally, her tone calm, though there was a hint of something else—something almost playful beneath her collected demeanor. She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "What does a cheating man have to do with me, the court magician, Serelith Malanor, today?"

Mikhailis swallowed, the words catching in his throat for a moment. There it was again—that teasing, knowing edge to her voice, like she was daring him to respond, daring him to slip up.

He straightened his glasses, his eyes meeting hers, determination settling in his gaze. He’d come here for a reason, and he wasn’t about to let a little... unexpected nudity throw him off track.

"Well," he began, his voice steady, "I think you and I have some things to discuss, Serelith."

Serelith’s smirk widened, her eyes glinting as she uncrossed her arms, gesturing for him to continue.

"Then by all means, Your Highness," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Let’s discuss."

Mikhailis took a deep breath, his mind racing with everything that was at stake. He had to play this carefully—one wrong move, and Serelith could ruin everything. But he had come here prepared, and now it was time to put his plan into action.

He stepped forward, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Alright, let’s talk," he said, his voice filled with resolve.

And with that, he closed the door behind him, the click echoing in the quiet chamber as he prepared to face whatever game Serelith was about to play.