Reincarnated as a Mushroom?-Chapter 94 - 93: The Gilded Lie Beneath the State Seal

Chapter 93: The Gilded Lie Beneath the State Seal

The three of us were stranded in the bureaucratic purgatory known as the Spartari VIP waiting chamber, flanked by gilded decor that looked like it belonged in a funeral home run by a dictator.

Apparently, some high-octane political emergency had detonated on one of the Drakoshi fronts, and Kathrine—our illustriously horny noble contact—had been summoned by her ancient clan of war-sycophants for an emergency call. Delays ensued.

Keyla, legs crossed and expression flat as a scorched world, vocalized what we were all thinking. "This is so fucking unprofessional. So what if a few million humans bit it? They all will eventually."

"Oh no," I gasped theatrically. "You mean to say you don’t enjoy basking in my sacred presence? I thought we had something special."

She stuck out her tongue and turned her head away, fighting a grin.

To my left, Kimchi was unusually still, shoulders tense, eyes narrowed as if she were holding a silent war with the very molecules in the air.

"You okay, dear?" I leaned over and nudged her side gently.

Her expression soured like spoiled milk. "This place smells funny."

I wasn’t sure if she meant ’chemical funny,’ ’flesh-rotting funny,’ or the more existential ’something-here-violates-the-natural-order’ funny. Either way, I started running my fingers slowly along her back. It helped.

Exactly twenty minutes past our appointment time—because of course it was—a door slid open with a hiss that was trying way too hard to sound expensive.

"Sorry, you two," came Kathrine’s velvet drawl. "Couldn’t ignore a direct call from the family even if I wanted to—oh?"

Her eyes scanned the room and clearly did not find Sophia, but instead landed squarely on the two gorgeous women flanking me. She blinked. Then she smirked.

"My dear Arcon," she purred, biting her lower lip like a bitch who knew the camera was always rolling. "Don’t tell me you’ve already discarded the walking glacier?"

Without missing a beat, I rose to my feet, took her hand in mine, and pressed a kiss to its back, completely forgetting I was flanked by living jealousy incarnate.

"Sophia is currently engaged with some matters of gravest importance," I replied with stately pomp. "Allow me to introduce this elegant crystal goblet of madness: Keyla, one of her senior assistants."

Keyla curtsied like she was mocking every ballet she’d ever seen.

"And this," I continued, gesturing leftward, "is my sister. Orchid. She doesn’t say much, but she’ll sit pretty and menace silently while we talk."

Kimchi blinked at me, very slowly. Her silence was so thick it registered as a vibration.

Kathrine, undeterred, smiled with all the subtlety of a lioness in a steakhouse. "Perfect. Let’s talk in my office."

—

We entered her den of diplomacy—an opulent office layered in soft lights, ancient hardwoods, and the faint tang of perfume, bloodline, and very expensive bribes.

"I trust you’ve been well, my lady?" I asked as we sat. Casual. Relaxed. Not at all aware that I was being undressed psychically and visually by the woman across the desk.

Her eyes lit up. Damn it. I’d activated exposition mode.

"Oh, you know how it is," she cooed, launching into a twenty-minute-long monologue that covered everything from intergalactic spice tariffs to her favorite bath oils.

I zoned in and out like a soldier with shellshock in a war of words.

"—and that," she concluded, "brings us to the family meeting about the Drakoshi front."

That part I keyed in on.

"Forgive the intrusion," I said, leaning forward slightly. "Is that information classified? Or could you share a little with us curious commoners?"

She tapped her lip, pretending to think, but I could see her answer already primed behind her pupils.

"Oh, for you, my delectable defector? Of course."

She leaned in conspiratorially, voice dipping into a purr.

"A new Drakoshi fleet has entered our galactic sector. A whole splinter broke off to maul the Coalition—lucky us—but the rest are coming here. It’s actually good news. Means the ones on our front are thin and tired. More meat for our war gods."

I nodded. "So, inevitable death for them either way."

"Mmhm. And catharsis for us." She grinned.

It wasn’t much more than I’d already heard from Ronnie’s whispers, but coming from Kathrine herself confirmed the scale and timing.

"I appreciate the candor," I said politely. "I’ll repay you for your kindness."

And that was the moment I saw her pupils dilate like I’d handed her an orgasm on a silver tray.

"Oh, it was nothing," she lied. "Now, before we descend too far into foreplay-by-small-talk, let’s lance the conversation like a bloated tick and get to business."

She pulled open her desk drawer and laid two sealed folders on the table, each one so legally perfect it practically leaked validity.

"Inside you’ll find your retroactively constructed birth certificates," she said casually. "Family trees that justify your claim to the Arcon title. Citizenship papers. And formal deeds of royalty. All forged to perfection."

She turned to the sleek device embedded in her desk and began inputting data with elegant, practiced fingers.

"I’ll be inserting you into the system’s archives like you’ve always been there. You won’t show up as recent entries. No one will question your legitimacy. Not unless they’re suicidal or stupid."

I flipped open the folder. Fabricated parents. A minor noble bloodline. A believable pattern of rise and inheritance. Even medical records.

"Impressive work," I said, genuinely. "Thank you, Kathrine. I hope we’ll remain allies, even beyond Sophia’s... professional interest."

She gave me a smile that could disarm landmines.

"Oh darling, friends is such a safe word. Of course we’ll remain close."

And then, as if we hadn’t just discussed war crimes and identity forgery, she turned to my entourage.

"My ladies," she said sweetly, "would you mind if I borrowed Arcon Irvine for just a few minutes? Five, max. Girl scout’s honor."

"Of course, my lady," Keyla said, ever the polite sociopath.

Kimchi, however, did not move.

Her body stayed locked in place, eyes slitted, expression screaming I will fucking melt you if you try anything.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Ten minutes."

She stood so fast I thought she’d teleport. A curt nod. A stiff bow. And she was gone.

Door closed.

Kathrine moved like a panther. Around the desk. Onto it. Legs crossed, gaze hungry.

"So," she purred, "about that... repayment."

Her foot slinked forward, resting gently—knowingly—between my legs.

I blinked. "You were serious."

"Oh, sweetling." Her voice dropped an octave. "I’m always serious about my appetites."

I thought briefly—only briefly—of Crystal. Of her noncommittal answer when I’d asked about mating outside the species.

"Your body is yours," she’d said. "But remember, no creature will ever love you more than the Hive. No one else would ever understand you."

I believed her. But I also believed in making the best of a transactional universe.

"I must warn you," I said, voice dry, "it’ll be longer than five minutes."

"I’m not here for the opera," Kathrine replied, sliding her fingers up my chest. "Just the overture."

The tension swirled like a storm made of perfume and unspoken contracts.

What happened next?

None of your fucking business.

—

Outside, Keyla and Kimchi were seated again. Waiting.

"You think they’re fucking?" Keyla asked, casually.

Kimchi recoiled. "Watch your mouth, cultling. I am your better. Mind your tongue."

"Sorry, Mistress. My brain’s a bit cracked. Mother lets me get away with it. So do you think they’re fucking, Mistress?"

Kimchi sighed. "No. Ten minutes is too short. Irvine’s stamina is... prodigious."

Right on cue, the door opened.

Kathrine emerged composed, luminous, and glowing like a woman who had either been lightly blessed by a god or almost eaten by one.

"Thank you for your assistance, Lady Kathrine," I said, rebuttoning my coat like I hadn’t just taught state-sanctioned seduction to a noblewoman on her own desk.

"The pleasure was entirely mine, Arcon," she said, eyes flashing. "Give Lady Sophia my regards."

As we exited, Kimchi glanced back over her shoulder.

Her nostrils flared.

’Why,’ she wondered, ’do I not hate that prey-whore as much as I did before?’

She had no answer.

But her grip on my arm tightened.

Just in case.

---

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