Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

"Rise, good sir," he said, his words carrying across the silent hall like he was delivering a sermon. "Accidents happen to us all. Your distress shows a good heart, and I would be a poor sovereign indeed if I could not show mercy for an honest mistake."

'And there it is,' Pyris thought with admiration. 'The classic "I'm too noble to be petty" response. He's playing right into our hands.'

Song looked up with perfectly crafted gratitude—the kind of expression that belonged in a museum under "Masterpieces of Emotional Manipulation." He allowed the Emperor to help him to his feet with what appeared to be genuine relief, though Pyris could see the tiny smile hidden in Song's eyes.

'My boy is enjoying this way too much,' Pyris thought fondly. 'I'm so proud.'

The Emperor's wine-stained robes made the whole gesture look almost comical—like watching someone try to maintain dignity while wearing a clown costume—but his voice remained steady as he continued his performance.

"Let this moment remind us all that even in our highest stations, we must show compassion to those who serve faithfully. A true leader judges not by a single moment of clumsiness, but by the character shown in its aftermath."

'Oh, that's good,' Pyris had to admit. 'Turn your humiliation into a teaching moment about leadership. Classic political maneuvering. I almost respect it.'

The whispers began immediately, rippling through the assembled nobles like the world's most vicious game of telephone:

"Such mercy... truly befitting an Emperor..."

'Translation: "Wow, he managed not to murder the servant. Gold star."'

"To forgive so readily after such... such an incident..."

'Translation: "That was clearly not an accident, but sure, let's call it an incident."'

"The stains on his robes, yet he thinks only of the servant's feelings..."

'Translation: "Those stains are never coming out, and we all know it."'

"A lesser man would have called for the dungeons..."

'Translation: "A smart man would have seen this coming a mile away."'

"This is why he rules, this compassion..."

'Translation: "This is why he's being played like a fiddle by a teenager."'

"Though I must say, the timing was rather... convenient..."

'Finally, someone with functioning brain cells.'

"Convenient? What do you mean by—"

"Nothing, nothing at all. Merely observing the... theatrical nature of it all..."

'Smart noble. Knows when to keep his mouth shut.'

"Did you see how the wine seemed to... stick? Most curious for simple beverage..."

'Getting warmer...'

"Shh! You speak of things beyond your understanding..."

'And getting smarter about not saying it out loud.'

"The young Lord Pyris and Princess Lekiza certainly chose an interesting moment to begin their dance..."

'Interesting is one word for it.'

"Coincidence, surely... though the boy does have his mother's sense of timing..."

'Oh, they have no idea how right they are about that.'

"The Empresses seem rather... amused by the situation..."

'The Empresses know exactly what they're watching.'

"Well, you know how women are about these political games..."

'Sexist and accurate at the same time. Impressive.'

"Games? This was clearly an accident! Did you not see the poor waiter's distress?"

'Oh, sweet summer child.'

"Of course, of course... though one might wonder why his magic failed so completely..."

'Now you're asking the right questions.'

"The Emperor's mercy shines all the brighter for his... challenged circumstances..."

'Diplomatic way of saying "he looks like an idiot but at least he's being nice about it."'

"Indeed, though I wonder how Prince Kaelion is reacting about this... incident..."

'Oh, he's burning in rage. Everyone's going to hear about it.'

"Surely word will reach the Champion eventually..."

'By tomorrow, this will be the most talked-about event in the realm.'

"The stains really are quite... persistent, aren't they?"

'Understatement of the century.'

"A testament to the Emperor's character that he focuses on forgiveness rather than his ruined attire..."

'A testament to something, anyway.'

'This is beautiful,' Pyris thought, still standing with Lekiza while listening to the symphony of barely contained mockery disguised as praise. 'Every comment is a double-edged sword—they're praising his mercy while simultaneously pointing out how thoroughly he's been humiliated.'

The overlapping conversations created a masterpiece of social destruction. The nobles spoke of his character and compassion, but their eyes lingered on the wine stains that refused to fade, on the convenient timing of the "accident," on the barely concealed amusement of the other rulers.

'It's like watching a slow-motion car crash,' Pyris mused, 'except the car is the Emperor's dignity and the crash is happening in front of the most important people in the realm.'

Through it all, the Emperor maintained his beneficent smile like a man trying to convince everyone that standing in the rain was actually quite pleasant. He was trapped in his own performance of mercy, unable to acknowledge what every person in that hall now understood without admitting his own defeat.

'He's been outmaneuvered, humiliated, and forced to play the role of the gracious sovereign,' Pyris thought with satisfaction, 'while his true objective—reaching Alexa—slips further from his grasp with each passing moment.'

The Emperor had chosen his path, and now he had to walk it—wine stains, wounded pride, and all.

'Sometimes,' Pyris reflected as he led Lekiza through the final steps of their dance, 'the best victories are the ones where you let your enemies defeat themselves while you look fabulous doing it.'

And from the whispers still rippling through the crowd, the way the other rulers were trying not to laugh, and the permanent stains decorating the Emperor's robes, this was definitely one of those victories.

'Mission accomplished,' he thought with a satisfied smile. 'Now let's see what he tries next. Okya. What does the daughter has to offer.'

As the Emperor's forced performance of mercy played out like the world's most expensive comedy show, Lekiza's eyes remained locked on Pyris with the intensity of someone who'd just figured out she was standing next to the mastermind behind the chaos.

'She knows,' Pyris realized, catching that knowing glint in her eyes. 'She knows exactly whose brilliant orchestration created this masterpiece of humiliation.'

The timing had been too flawless, the humiliation too complete, too artistically devastating to be mere coincidence. But instead of pulling away from the architect of this beautiful disaster, she seemed to be leaning in closer.

'Interesting,' Pyris thought with growing appreciation. 'Most people run from chaos. This one wants front-row seats. I am intrigued, President.'

A slow smile spread across Lekiza's features—the kind of smile that suggested she was about to make things very interesting.