Transmigrated Into A Women Dominated World

Ysmeine shut down Zaeryn's announcement before it had the chance to gain momentum.

The idea of him becoming a consort was something she had never imagined he would choose. With his striking looks and rare good health, she always knew he would attract attention from women—but she never expected him to be clever enough to try and use it to his advantage.

Advantage or not, it was dangerous. And she did not agree.

Nor was she the only one opposed to his decision.

Surprisingly, even his biggest critic, Kayla, disagreed with the one choice that might finally get him out of everyone's life. She scoffed from her perch on the counter, the sound cutting through the room like ice.

"That is the most reckless and short-sighted plan I have ever heard," she said.

"Did you think about the risk? You'll bring unnecessary attention to yourself, which might lead people to start digging into who you are, and eventually finding out you're not Ysmeine's child. You'll be a target from day one."

Zaeryn stood up, feeling frustrated, but It was Ysmeine's response that bothered him, he couldn't care less about Kayla's objection.

Moving into the center of the kitchen, he sighed, "You don't understand," he said, his voice steady and clear, commanding their attention. "This isn't about being safe in the short term. My power, the only real power I have—grows through connection. Through bonds."

"Being a consort isn't a bad idea; it's a good strategy. It's the fastest way for me to become strong enough to protect myself."

He looked from Kayla's indifferent face to Ysmeine's worried one. "And," he continued, his voice dropping slightly, "when Athea's secret inevitably gets revealed? I bet no one here has thought about what happens then. You'll all be charged with treason for helping her hide a secret son."

He refused to remain a liability, a secret that needed protecting. He would become powerful on his own terms.

And if, by then, the royal family decided he shouldn't be alive simply because he was a male? Too bad for them, they would fail. He couldn't imagine how they could possibly defeat him once he had multiple vitae signatures.

Not to mention, by then, he liked to think the women in his life would do anything to protect him. If he is lucky enough.

A thoughtful silence fell over the room.

"Listen to him," Marceline finally said, breaking the silence, "He is being smart. In a world of politics, seduction is just another battlefield."

"And from what I've seen," she added, her gaze sweeping over Zaeryn with clear approval, "it's one he's uniquely equipped to win."

"I still don't agree with you!" Ysmeine insisted, her protective instincts flaring. "I'm not saying there is anything wrong with him being a consort, but what if one of those women decides to hurt you?"

"I don't think that's going to happen. Besides, I will choose carefully who I…. make my partner," he said nonchalantly. He then softened his tone, walking over to Ysmeine and taking her hands in his.

"I know you're scared for me," he said gently, looking directly into her worried eyes. "You've spent my whole life protecting me. But I'm grown up now, you've also made me strong. This is the only way I can stop being the boy you have to hide and start being the man who can protect himself. Can you trust me?"

His expression hardened, a quiet finality in his gaze. "You should also know that I have already made up my mind about this, and my decision won't be changed."

Ysmeine searched his face, seeing the finality there. The fierce determination in his eyes was something she hadn't seen before, and even if she didn't agree with him, she would not be able to change his mind. Her only option now was to support him in whatever he was going to do.

Her fear faded, leaving a quiet, reluctant trust. She smiled softly and squeezed his hands. "I trust you," she whispered.

Kayla scoffed, unimpressed by Ysmeine. "Ysmeine, I can't believe you're naive enough to agree with him. This strategy is suicidal."

Marceline leaned back, a slow, knowing smile playing on her lips as she watched her daughter. "Oh, is that what this is about, darling? Strategy?" she purred, her voice dripping with amusement. "Or is it that the thought of all those powerful women getting their hands on our Zae is just a little too much for you to bear? It's alright to admit you don't want to share him."

Marceline's jab landed with great precision. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of something flashed in Kayla's eyes before being consumed by pure irritation

"You're delusional for thinking that, " she snapped, her face flushing with anger. "I'm done with this conversation. Do what you want. I won't be here to watch him ruin his life. It's not like I care anyways."

She turned sharply, her boots clicking against the floor as she strode toward the exit.

"Kayla, wait," Ysmeine's voice called out, stopping her just as she reached the archway.

Kayla paused, her back still rigid, but she didn't turn around.

"I need to ask you something. Can you do me a favour?" Ysmeine continued, her voice serious. "Zaeryn... he has Vitae, but he can't control it. He needs a teacher. Someone who can show him how to master his power without hurting himself." She took a breath. "You're a Tier-One user, one of the best. You should train him."

A tense silence filled the room. Everyone, including Zaeryn, was waiting for Kayla's response. Although, really, Zaeryn was a little frustrated that Ysmeine was asking Kayla to train him. He didn't want her to think he needed her, even after how she treated him.

"I think I'm okay. I don't need her help." Zaeryn made it clear.

Slowly, Kayla turned. She didn't look at Ysmeine; instead, her cold eyes locked directly onto Zaeryn. A slow, unsettling grin spread across her face. It wasn't a smile of warmth or amusement; it was sharp and a little unhinged. She looked him up and down, as if savoring his predicament.

"Train him?" she asked, her voice deceptively sweet. "And watch him grow stronger?" Her grin widened as her eyes met his. "No…. I'd rather he remains like this. Besides, he will always be a weakling, and no amount of vitae signatures will change that."

She held his gaze for another moment before her smile vanished, replaced by her signature cold contempt.

"Find someone else to teach you, anomaly. I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself and might hurt you during training." With that, she turned and walked out of the room, the door hissing shut behind her.

Zaeryn watched her go.

"Don't listen to her, Zaeryn," she said, her voice soft but firm. "She's just... being difficult. I'll talk to her. I will make sure she agrees to train you."

Zaeryn shook his head, turning away from the closed door to face Ysmeine fully. A soft smile touched his lips. "No," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Honestly, Ysmeine, I'd rather she didn't. I can't learn from someone who looks at me with that much contempt." He met her worried gaze with a newfound confidence. "I'll find someone else. Maybe at the Citadel."

A look of pride softened Ysmeine's features."Alright, darling," she whispered, leaning in to give him a soft, lingering kiss on the lips. She then turned and walked back to the stove. Looking over her shoulder, a warm, genuine smile lit up her face. "Dinner will be ready soon."

"Good, I'm starving," Zaeryn replied, his own mood lifting as he watched her.

He then turned his attention to Marceline, who had been observing the entire exchange with a look of deep amusement.

Seeing how Zaeryn had taken charge of the situation, not allowing Ysmeine's objection to affect him, was what had Marceline amused. He wasn't just a boy anymore; he was stepping into his own power, making decisions on his own, and Marceline's approving gaze confirmed she saw it too.

He gave her a playful grin. "A consort soon huh? That's a good idea." She said,

Zaeryn nodded. "Speaking of teachers," he said, leaning back into the sofa. "Why can't you teach me, Marcie? You're certainly old enough to have the experience."

Marceline shook her head, her eyes dancing. "Oh, sweet boy," she purred, patting his thigh. "Age brings wisdom, yes, but I was never a Warlady in my life, nor do I plan to be one. I'm not qualified to teach you a thing about vitae wielding or fighting." She leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "My interest has always been elsewhere."

Zaeryn leaned forward, his curiosity genuinely piqued. "Elsewhere? What's that?"

A slow, proud smile curved Marceline's lips.

This was her domain, her true passion. "Apart from wanting to see you and finally be part of the Lumina family and take your rightful place as the only prince, my true passion has always been for the beauty of the world before. The elegance, the style..." She met his gaze, her eyes glittering with a creative fire. "I collect relics of pre-Scorch Fall, old design sketches, antique jewelry, things like that. It inspires my work. I own a small boutique that creates custom designs for a very... exclusive clientele."

Her smile turned mischievous again as she trailed a finger down his arm. "In fact, we're hosting a private showing for my new collection in a few weeks. I think it's time you saw my world up close. You can be my handsome escort."

"Sure. I would like that." Zaeryn nodded.