I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

He could not tell whether it was the wine speaking, but the Duke was definitely letting certain things slip.

Ever since the envoy from the capital had visited the duchy, his father had rarely discussed anything political with him. Today, for the first time, the Duke himself had brought up the coming war and had even used older names that pointed clearly toward the erased history of the Kingdom of Valthor.

Julian noted it. He considered pressing for more detail, then decided against it. The Duke was still an Arch Mage. Even with wine in his system he remained aware of the boundaries of what should and should not be said. Pushing too hard would only create unnecessary suspicion.

The conversation then drifted toward more personal ground.

”Speaking of the future,” the Duke said, ”are you ready for the marriage?”

Julian met his father’s gaze evenly.

”Honestly, I am not sure.”

The Duke raised an eyebrow, though there was no real disapproval in the expression.

”Elara is a good girl. Powerful, too. You saw that yourself in the courtyard. Most young women of her age would have broken under the pressure of facing an Arch Mage. She kept coming. That kind of spirit is rare.”

”I know,” Julian answered. ”We spoke after the duel. She has her own dreams and ambitions. She does not want to be bound before she has the chance to pursue them. I told her I would wait until the war is over. Then I will ask properly.”

The Duke studied him for a long moment. Something like approval flickered behind his features.

”You are being more considerate than most men in your position would show,” he said at last. ”Very well. House Azmed is still committed to the alliance. As long as the door remains open, I will not force the timeline. Just remember that the kingdom is not going to remain peaceful forever. When the storm arrives, strong partnerships will matter more than personal delays.”

Julian nodded. ”I understand.”

The Duke finished his non existent wine and set the glass down with a soft click. He rose, stretching slightly, and glanced toward the adjoining door that led to the private study.

”I will leave you to speak with your mother. Do not keep her too long. We still have guests, and I would prefer the evening remain quiet.”

He moved to the study door, opened it, and stepped through. The door closed behind him with a solid sound, leaving the sitting room in a deeper silence.

Julian remained standing near the center of the chamber.

A few moments later the soft sound of another door opening drew his attention. Olivia stepped out of the adjoining bathing room.

She wore a loose, pale robe that clung damply to her body. Her hair was wet and unbound, falling in heavy strands around her shoulders and down her back. The fabric of the robe had been tightened in haste, yet the moisture made it see-through in places, outlining the full curves of her breasts, the soft line of her waist, and the long shape of her legs.

Water still beaded lightly along her collarbones and the elegant column of her throat. She had clearly just finished bathing and had not expected anyone but her husband to be present.

When her eyes landed on Julian, she froze.

Surprise flashed across her face, followed almost at once by a deeper, more complicated expression. Her fingers tightened on the edges of the robe and she pulled it more firmly across her chest.

”Kraven,” she said. Her voice was quieter than usual, carrying a note of caution. ”I did not realize you were here.”

Julian’s gaze moved over her once.

”Yes, Mother,” he said. ”I came to talk with Father.”

Olivia’s fingers remained tight on her robe.

”Talk?” she asked. ”For what?”

”Nothing important,” Julian answered. His tone was calm, almost casual. ”Just father and son matters. The usual things.”

She raised a brow. The explanation clearly did not satisfy her. Olivia had known him too long, both as the old Kraven and as the changed man who now stood in front of her, to accept such a vague answer without question. Her eyes narrowed slightly, searching his face for the real reason he had come here.

”I also have some things to talk about with you, Mother,” he added.

Olivia’s posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. The damp robe rose and fell with a slightly quicker breath. She knew what kind of ”talk” had passed between them in recent weeks. The memory of the last private session, of her own hands and the words she had been persuaded to speak, lived close to the surface whenever they were alone. A faint color deepened along her cheeks.

For a moment she said nothing. Then she exhaled softly and gave a small nod.

”All right,” she said. ”Stay here for a moment. I will change and come back.”

She turned slightly, intending to retreat toward the dressing area.

”Mother, we are beyond that, are we not? You look perfect that way.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. A sharper flush spread across her face. She glanced quickly toward the closed door of the study, where the Duke still remained, then back at her son.

”Kraven,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, urgent tone. ”Lower your voice. Your father will hear you.”

The warning carried real tension. She stood frozen in place, the loose robe doing little to hide the mature shape of her body. The ordinary boundary of mother and son had already been crossed in previous encounters, yet the risk of discovery still sat heavily between them. The Duke was only a single door away.

Julian did not look bothered. If anything, the caution in her voice seemed to deepen the focus in his eyes. He remained where he stood, making no move to close the distance yet, but also offering no apology for the remark.

”He is occupied,” Julian said, matching her quieter volume.