Just as the murmurs threatened to swell into an outright interrogation, a soft, pleasant chime echoed from the poolside entrance.
A maid, impeccably uniformed, wheeled in a polished cart laden with crystal glasses and an assortment of chilled beverages: sparkling water with citrus, vibrant fruit juices, and iced herbal teas. Her smile was practiced, her movements efficient. She was the picture of seamless, unobtrusive service, perfectly ruining the escalating drama.
"Refreshments, young masters and ladies," she announced softly, her voice breaking the tension with its polite neutrality.
Kyouya's expression remained unchanged, but a minute flicker in his eyes betrayed a satisfaction no one else could discern. He had anticipated this precise moment, the inevitable logistical pause in any such grand affair. It was merely another variable accounted for in his calculations.
He let the maid serve a few of the nearest girls, allowing the scent of fresh fruit and cooling liquid to further dissipate the lingering hostilities. Then, with a voice that was calm yet utterly commanding, he addressed the entire group.
"Thank you," Kyouya stated, acknowledging the maid with a slight nod before turning his gaze to the still-standing women.
"Now then. Everyone, please find a comfortable spot on the floor. Let us continue this... informal gathering in a more relaxed manner."
A wave of bewildered glances swept through the candidates.
Sit on the floor? No chairs?
It was an odd, almost childlike command, completely incongruous with the opulent setting and the high stakes of their gathering. Some hesitated, their expressions ranging from confusion to mild indignation. Ayaka's frown deepened, her former indignation momentarily eclipsed by sheer bewilderment. Scarlet Vermillion's crimson eyes narrowed, a glint of analytical curiosity replacing her earlier pique. Even Seira's smug smile faltered, her head tilting, clearly reassessing this unexpected directive.
Yet, despite the unspoken questions, none dared to defy him. One by one, they began to slowly lower themselves onto the thick, plush outdoor rugs that adorned the poolside, adjusting their elegant dresses to accommodate the unconventional seating. Kyouya watched them, every movement, every subtle reaction, being logged.
Precisely as predicted, Kyouya mused internally, a thread of satisfaction weaving through his thoughts. The timing of the maid's arrival was not coincidental; it was a predicted variable, a convenient opportunity to shift the dynamics. His command to sit on the floor was a subtle power play, stripping away the formality of the chairs, forcing a more vulnerable, less structured interaction.
It was designed to disorient, to assert control in a new, unexpected way.
His gaze returned to Seira Kagurazaka, whose initial surprise had already given way to a calculating gaze that mirrored his own.
The information she possesses is too critical to ignore he remarked.
From the moment he'd registered her presence, Kyouya had known she was the key. He had deliberately allowed the initial confrontation to escalate, predicting that her arrogance would lead her to leverage the very secrets he needed to understand and control.
He had engineered this scenario, allowed the chaos, precisely because he intended to pursue her. Not out of affection or even immediate necessity for an heir, but for the crucial data she held about his past, about the secret room, about the very strings that pulled his father's game. T
His was no longer just about choosing an heir; it was about uncovering truths, and securing ultimate, undeniable freedom. And Seira Kagurazaka was the path to that objective.
Seira, now settled onto the rug with a grace that made even the unconventional seating seem like a throne, stared back at him. The last vestiges of her playful smugness had vanished. Her single visible blue eye had sharpened, losing its previous glint of amusement and replacing it with a cold, almost visible annoyance. Her lips, no longer curved in a mocking smile, were pressed into a thin, tight line. She was visibly, unmistakably, pissed off. It was a rare crack in her carefully constructed composure, a direct response to his deliberate, calculated assertion of dominance.
Kyouya met her sharpened gaze, an almost imperceptible shift occurring in his own expression, though his eyes remained hidden. He registered her anger, a new, volatile data point. Her attempt at blackmail had been… rudimentary, an emotional play on an intellectual field.
Instead of speaking aloud, Kyouya took a slow, deliberate step closer to Seira, then another, until he was directly above her, leaning in slightly. The other girls watched with bated breath, curiosity and confusion etched on their faces. The sudden proximity, the private tension, silenced their murmurs more effectively than any command.
He lowered his head just enough so his lips were mere inches from her ear. His voice was a low, precise whisper, meant for her ears alone, cutting through the ambient quiet like a surgical blade.
"Considering your rather inefficient attempt at coercion, Kagurazaka-san," he murmured, his tone utterly devoid of warmth, "one might conclude that taking you first, purely for the sake of expediting the information transfer and thus shutting down your rather predictable antics, would be the most logical and pragmatic course of action."
Seira's single visible eye widened fractionally, a flicker of raw shock momentarily replacing her anger. Her entire body tensed, not from fear, but from the sheer audacity of his cold, transactional proposition. The implication hung heavy in the air between them, a chilling suggestion of intimacy reduced to a strategic maneuver.
Though the other girls couldn't hear his words, they saw the sudden, stark change in Seira's demeanor, the almost imperceptible tremor that ran through her. A renewed wave of whispered questions rippled through the group. Why did Kyouya get so close? What did he say to her? What was that expression on Seira Kagurazaka's face, a mixture of disbelief and a deepening, dangerous fury? Ayaka, still watching from her spot on the rug, scowled, her indignation intensified by the private, intense exchange she couldn't comprehend. Kyouya, however, noted Seira's reaction. He had successfully delivered his ultimatum. The move was made.
Now, the game truly began.