She sat beside me on the bed, gently brushing my hair like I was a doll she had grown far too fond of. Her fingers were careful yet possessive, weaving through my strands with a kind of reverence that made me freeze in place.
"In a few weeks… it'll be my turn," she murmured absently, as if thinking aloud.
I blinked. "Your turn?"
"For the royal talent re-evaluation," she said casually. "Every few years, nobles retake the test to confirm their Star level—see if it's grown. Most don't improve much after adulthood, but…" She trailed off, a glint of confidence in her eye. "I'm pretty sure I've advanced. Last time, I was assessed as a 4-Star. Now... I think I'm a 5-Star."
I nodded slowly, pretending I fully understood what that meant. In truth, I barely knew anything about this world's power structure, only what little I'd overheard from passing conversations.
She paused her hand and leaned in closer, her breath brushing my cheek, her nose nearly touching mine.
"Then… I just wish you luck," I said quietly, awkwardly.
She laughed, amused. Then she flicked my forehead lightly. "Good boy. So considerate of me." Her voice was warm, silky, and dangerously alluring.
Leaning back against the pillows, she began to explain the meaning behind Star rankings, her tone taking on a slightly more serious edge.
"Most commoners remain between 1 and 3 Stars their whole lives. A 1-Star is a basic trainee—barely capable of sensing mana. A 2 or 3-Star could be a village guard, or a lesser noble. Those who reach 4 or 5 Stars? They become city knights, skilled mages, or respected officials. Reaching that level extends your life by over a hundred years.
"Then there's the rare 6-Star class—elite knights and high court mages. They can live up to 300 years. And 7-Star? That's the stuff of legends. Archmages, generals, figures spoken about in awe. Living 500 years, their names are carved into history.
"And finally," she continued, her eyes flickering with restrained awe, "there are 8-Star beings—nation-level threats. Only a few exist in the entire world. Their presence alone can decide wars. They live for over a thousand years."
I listened intently, caught in the gravity of her words. A thousand years… The scale of power in this world was staggering. And yet, she was speaking of it so casually.
When she finished, she rose gracefully from the bed and beckoned me forward. "Come. It's time I assess your talent."
My curiosity piqued. I nodded eagerly, heart racing. I hadn't seen anything truly supernatural yet, so the idea thrilled me.
She smiled proudly, puffing her chest ever so slightly. "I'm a strong mage—5-Star. I might reach 6-Star within the next decade, maybe less."
My eyes sparkled. "Then… can I see a spell?"
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. Holding out her palm, she summoned a small flame, bright and warm. My jaw dropped in wonder.
She chuckled softly, reaching out and squeezing my cheeks. "So adorable," she murmured. "Even if you've been marked as a slave… later tonight, I should leave some marks of my own."
My face turned bright red.
As we walked through the palace, servants and maids turned their heads to stare—some with amused smiles, others whispering behind their hands. I was still wearing the maid's uniform she had dressed me in, and it was humiliating.
My face burned. "Um… Your Majesty, can I at least change clothes?"
Her expression turned cold, her voice authoritative. "No. Stay like that."
I gulped. One glare from her silenced everyone in the corridor. Maids who had been glancing at me quickly averted their eyes and returned to their duties, terrified of offending her.
Eventually, we arrived at a heavily guarded door. No one else dared follow. This was her private chamber—her personal Talent Assessment Room, used only for evaluating servants or those she considered potentially valuable.
She turned to me, her expression unreadable. "Normally, I'd take someone like you to the Tower of Evaluation, but… there would be too many eyes. If word got out, things could become dangerous."
I swallowed, unsure of what she meant. But I trusted her enough not to question it.
On a pedestal in the center of the room sat a strange black orb—the Talent Sphere. A faint, pulsing hum surrounded it, like it was alive.
She stepped beside me and began to explain.
"The colors indicate your potential:
Blue is the weakest—still possible to reach 3-Star in a lifetime.
Red is average, with a cap at 5-Star.
Purple is considered gifted. With the right training, you could reach 6-Star.
Orange is extremely rare—a prodigy. Only princes and princesses from the three great kingdoms usually have this talent. With support, they could become 7-Star or even 8-Star.
Bright Yellow… that's nearly mythical. Only a few 8-Star beings have ever been born with it. They live for over a thousand years."
My hands trembled as I approached the orb. Slowly, I placed my palm on it.
The black sphere glowed faintly. First blue. Lucy watched quietly, already seeming to prepare herself for disappointment.
Then… it shifted to red.
She smiled faintly. "Red isn't bad for someone with no training—"
But the orb kept glowing. Her breath caught.
Purple.
Her smile widened, pride blooming on her face. But then…
Orange.
She gasped, eyes locked on the light as it surged. Her heart began to race.
Then, as the glow grew impossibly bright—it became Bright Yellow.
And then… the orb shattered.
Cracks raced along its surface, and with a burst of radiant light, the Talent Sphere exploded into glittering fragments.
Silence.
Lucy stood frozen, panting slightly, her chest rising and falling. She had only planned to get a basic reading. She hadn't expected this.
I stared at her, confused and teary-eyed. "I… I didn't mean to break it…"
I looked up at her like a guilty dog who had just broken his master's favorite vase. She clenched her jaw, trying to keep her composure.
Then she gave me a sharp glare and crossed her arms. "You… really broke it," she said in a tone laced with mock anger. "Do you even know how rare those are?"
I flinched, eyes watering. "I'm sorry—!"
And then she burst out laughing. A bright, melodious laugh that filled the room.
"You should've seen your face!" she giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "So cute. I was just teasing."
She cupped my cheek gently, wiping my own tears. "You've got unprecedented talent. But remember—raw potential means nothing without discipline. Don't get arrogant. And above all… don't tell anyone. If news of this spreads, the kingdoms will fight over you. Or worse… they'll try to kill you."
I nodded quickly, still reeling from the shock.
A flicker of annoyance crossed my face—just for a moment. I didn't like being toyed with, even if it was all in good fun.
She noticed. She always noticed.
Lucy chuckled and pinched my cheeks again, saying nothing. But I could see it in her eyes. From the moment she saw that golden glow, she no longer saw me as just a slave. I was no longer a toy.
To her, I had become a treasure—one more valuable than anything else in the kingdom.
And somehow… that scared me more than anything else.