CHAPTER 7 - DRESS REHEARSAL
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I woke up in another world today.
Is there a 'World Conqueror' frequent flyer program I should know about?
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A lone, calm figure waited patiently by a doorway. Draped in an endless waterfall of pearl-hued robes, he presented an image that seemed out of place in the den of greed he found himself in.
He had not expected to have attended the Grand Exhibition, but over the course of his life, he often found the arbiters of destiny to be fickle.
Such was the curious day of the local priest, Clementus Marius.
His choice of location, far removed from the regular servant-initiation rooms, did little to deter the odd staffer or transient visitor from walking past. They would pass by in the corridor, heads bowed with the respect his station demanded. In reciprocation, he would offer a solemn nod, acknowledging their faith as they journeyed on and carried out their duties.
His alert, watchful eyes softened as he sensed a ripple in the room he guarded. An ember of divinity flickered to life, bathing him in a warm, reassuring light before fading just as fast.
'The ritual is complete.'
The magic was less potent than anticipated, but perhaps the demihuman did not demand much in terms of domination. For it to have a weak spirit would not be surprising.
Clementus waited as the hands of time advanced, yet the door behind him remained stubbornly closed. Beyond it, he heard only a mumble of two voices he could not make out.
Ordinarily, servant-binding contracts were privileges set aside for the most exceptional. The creation of ready-made parchment demanded a hefty price, both in terms of resources and expertise. Under the standard run of events, such a lowly creature would hardly be worthy of such an investment—an average slave would have to be subdued via average means.
However, it was customary for the Grand Exhibition to include magical contracts as a complimentary offering with each live purchase. Thus, the girl had the uncommon luxury of tethering such a mundane beast to her will.
He doubted the girl would find much use for the thing. Perhaps he could see the demihuman being used as a manual labourer or a test subject for experimental spells. But beyond that, its utility seemed minimal.
Finally, the door behind him groaned open with the protest of old wood. Out stepped the young charge, grinning with a glow of contentment. The demihuman trailed behind her, an insignificant shadow that barely registered in his mind.
"Young lady." He turned, greeting her with a voice tinged with reverence. His hands came together in an elegant gesture of respect, the smooth fabric of his robes rustling. "I trust the rites unfolded without issue?"
She nodded quietly in response to his question, and a radiant light sparked in his eyes.
"Ah, what benevolence you have displayed, uniting your divine will with such an undeserving creature." His tone, though enchanting, did not bother to hide his disdain for the feral being. "It is in a sense of duty that I offer my services for any guidance you may require, seeing that this creature is your first. It is a daunting task to make a pet of a wild beast."
His speech served two-fold. Firstly, his admiration for the maiden's compassion was not feigned; such praise flowed naturally from his lips.
But more importantly, it was a test.
He observed the beast as he not-so-subtly rebuked it, searching for any shift in its plain expression. Would it lash out at his provocation? A twitch of the ear indicated comprehension, yet neither scowl nor hiss presented itself. Its expression remained as calm as the girl it served.
Excellent. Juliana had undoubtedly succeeded in bringing the creature to heel.
"My first suggestion," Clementus began, "is that you must always remember that these things are not like us. A firm hand is required to keep it in line. There is a reason why our societies do not mingle." His gaze shifted from Juliana to the demihuman. The girl was kind, but if one were too gentle, it would interpret that as weakness and try to trample her.
"Magic, though potent, is not without its limits; while it can command obedience, it falls short of imparting refinement. Should you have purchased an elf instead, it would be another matter, but these ones lack the spark that separates us from mere beasts—humanity. One mustn't be overly tender, lest it return to its base instincts."
Juliana drank in his words, her expression a picture of unwavering focus.
Interpreting her silence as consent, the priest pressed on, "As my parting endowment, I suggest your first action be addressing its appearance. The local temple is a recipient of charitable donations—clothes, and the like. When they ask, tell them that I, Clementus Marius, sent you. While such benefactions are usually reserved for humans, it would be… unseemly to let a creature in that state serve divine blood."
Clad in what could only be described as moth-eaten rags, it was a generous overstatement to label the creature 'dressed.'
Juliana seemed to agree with the priest's assessment. She could never present Kuro to her parents looking like this.
The demihuman, for its part, listened to the proceedings with curiosity; its crimson-red eyes narrowed at the mention.
"Divine blood, hmnya?"
Clementus' head snapped towards the being who had spoken out of turn. Impertinent. And what blasphemous words! His eyes, previously gentle spheres of wisdom, hardened into icy orbs. The creature, Kuro, met his gaze with vacant, unblinking eyes; there was likely not a single thought in its empty head aside from where its next meal would come from.
With a dismissive gesture, Clementus turned his gaze away from the creature, as though the mere act of acknowledging its presence had been distasteful.
"Never entertain their attempts at conversation, young lady," he instructed. "It's nothing more than common sense. Such demihumans simply lack the capacity to grasp, much less contribute meaningfully, to intellectual discussions."
Juliana nodded in understanding. The sentiment was not new to her; it echoed in the pages of her books as much as it was reinforced by the adults around her.
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It was humans, after all, who had been the architects of civilization. It was with human hands that the first cities were erected from stone and mortar. It was with human minds that intricate economies wove from the basic threads of barter and trade. It was human pioneers who first deciphered the ancient riddles of magic, too.
'Magic…'
Juliana was lost in her thoughts before Kuro's soft purrs jolted her back to reality. It was a sound that gave Juliana pause for some reason. She wasn't completely certain that Kuro didn't know anything.
Then a thought, unbidden yet persistent, sprouted in her mind.
'Maybe she could teach it?'
The notion was absurd, bordering on heresy, yet it was as stubborn as a weed, refusing to be uprooted. She would inevitably have to teach it manners for the sake of her family's reputation. But what if she went a step further?
'Like… brewing tea?'
A demihuman being able to brew tea was unheard of, but it painted a funny picture in her mind. The thought of her new servant meticulously measuring tea leaves, handling delicate porcelain with clawed fingertips, pouring the perfect cup—it was an image that was simultaneously absurd and delightful.
"Hehehe…"
Kuro, unaware of the whimsical images playing out in his new mistress's mind, felt a twitch of uncertainty.
She couldn't shake off the memory of its unexpected accusation—something about her being some "rich child seeking a novel exercise of power". Could it be that this one was a bit unusual? That could explain why it was presented at the Grand Exhibition. Ah. She again found herself wondering what a demihuman's tea might be like. Did they prefer it chilled? She remembered reading somewhere that a cat's tongue was sensitive to heat.
Juliana returned her attention to the priest, her laughter subsiding into a playful smile. "Tell me," she asked. "What sorts of clothes are usually donated at the shrine?"
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It was a maid outfit.
Because of course it was.
Kurosaki, now Kuro, stood with his gaze held captive by the reflection in the mirror. The new reality left him with a curious cocktail of both fascination and mortification.
Earlier, when he was forced to bathe in a freezing river, he caught brief glimpses of his reflection. The waters, however, had distorted his image, so he was never able to see things in their true form.
Perhaps it was this lack of clarity that ignited his curiosity.
Now he was confronted with his true appearance, unfiltered and painfully crisp. His black hair, still damp from the river, ran the full length of his back. His ears were pointed and alert, and his tail, swathed in that same obsidian-black fur, made a subtle appearance beneath his attire.
Ah, yes. His attire.
It was an uncomfortable mix of ruffles and lace. It combined black undergarments, a white skirt that danced around his ankles, and a snug-fitting apron that did nothing but highlight the... fullness of his chest.
If this girl staring back at him from the mirror had resided on Earth, she would've undoubtedly ensnared the affections of legions of men… himself included. An admission that was both strange and disconcerting for himself to acknowledge—or rather, for herself to acknowledge.
"…"
A tiny scowl graced the delicate features in the mirror.
Kurosaki Kageyama was undeniably male, yet the reflection before him contradicted this simple truth. True, no garment could upend one's internal identity, but inhabiting an entirely different biological body raised a different kind of argument.
Did the impacts of such a drastic transformation extend beyond mere aesthetics?
If his new speech pattern was anything to go by, it seemed the alteration may have introduced a number of psychological anomalies as well. At least his hair was still black.
"Turn around so I can see you."
Kurosaki complied, turning towards his new mistress.
"What about sideways?"
Once more, Kurosaki obeyed, presenting his profile.
"Now face me."
A third revolution.
"..."
Juliana had taken to her new role as master rather quickly.
Kurosaki could tell that she derived some peculiar joy from transforming him into a personal dress-up mannequin. This was, perhaps, anticipated; it was one of the scenarios within tolerance—a much preferred outcome than being consigned to labour in a soot-ridden coal mine. It appeared this new world adhered to a semblance of the logic he was accustomed to.
Sensing her scrutiny, Kurosaki straightened, overruling the tired objections of his muscles. There would be a time for rest, but it wasn't now. His latest employer was conducting a suitability interview, and there was no room for error.
"Adjust your apron, Kuro," she instructed. "And your collar... it needs to be straightened."
Kurosaki complied, his fingers grappling with the lacy fringes of the apron while his other hand worked to adjust the collar. He could manage this dynamic, this arrangement. He had swallowed his pride and kneeled before many individuals during his ascent to CEO; taking orders from this young girl wouldn't be any different.
And yet, it was. It felt fundamentally different.
Perhaps it was the manner in which the girl wielded her authority. Despite her attempts to make it appear so, there was no smug malice under it all, no sense of superiority. As much as he wished to see the girl as just another stubborn superior to appease, the mental image refused to materialise.
"Good," Juliana announced. "Now, turn around again!" She did not hide the note of excitement in her tone.
Suppressing a sigh of exasperation, Kurosaki obligingly twirled.
Then he caught sight of Juliana's reflection in the mirror, her eyes bright with curiosity as she stared at… something? Ah, right. His tail. She watched intently as the extra appendage swayed from side-to-side behind him.
Her head must've simply been brimming with the purity of childlike innocence.
Oh, the fact that she commanded him with a hungry gleam in her eye was of no concern whatsoever.
Not one bit.
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Juliana's smile grew and grew until she couldn't hide it.
The demihuman was hers! All of it! Every handful of fluff!
It was easy to see why all the others had their own personal servants. The feeling was fun…? Yes, that was the right word. It was fun.
Kuro followed her commands absolutely; it didn't judge her lack of magical prowess, and it was... strangely pretty?
The realisation had only dawned on her after the demihuman finished scrubbing off all the filth and muck it collected. She was pleasantly surprised by how differently it looked before and after.
It was a creature that bore little resemblance to the one she saw in that auditorium. While the coarse and tangled fur didn't yet sparkle under the sun, there was a limit to what a quick wash without bubbles could accomplish.
They remained present at the water's edge.
Since demihumans weren't allowed inside the shrine, she took it upon herself to borrow the clergy's mirror and set it up outside.
Juliana found herself delighted by the choice of outfit. The black-and-white maid ensemble, a style favoured among some nobility, seemed to flatter the creature in an unexpected way. The ruffles and lace complemented its form, highlighting the more humanoid parts in a way that was…
Juliana felt a warm blush creep onto her cheeks at the thought. It was ridiculous! It was a demihuman, a wild beast, not a… not a…
Juliana shook her head. She was probably getting too tired.
She'd already been stretched far beyond her standard waking hours. They needed to get back before the excitement wore off and she succumbed to the pressing weight of drowsiness.
"We should head back now," she voiced her decision.
But right before she left, a thought crossed her mind. She just couldn't seem to remember...
'Did the inn have a policy for pets?'