With a sense of urgency rising in his chest, Lyon spun on his heels and ran back to Moonstone Mansion. He immediately noticed he was faster, his feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he ran, almost as if he were flying.

The house came into view much quicker than he expected, the imposing property looking even more magnificent in the moonlight. In front of the mansion, a surreal sight awaited him: a carriage oddly shaped like a shell stood, illuminated by the moon, giving it an unreal glow. Beside the carriage, two guards stood out, their unusual and threatening figures casting long shadows on the ground.

Lyon slowed his pace as he approached, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief as he looked at the faces of the guards. They were not human faces, by any means. One of the guards had the face of a shark, the jaw filled with sharp teeth and skin gray and rough. The other had the face of a sea snake, the eyes cold and calculating and the forked tongue occasionally coming out to taste the air.

Lyon swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen beings like these, and the sight of them left him both afraid and fascinated. He stood there, frozen in place, as the two guards stared at him.

Ignoring the strange sight of the guards, Lyon hurried into the mansion and ran straight to the ballroom. Music and laughter filled the air, but he had only one goal in mind. He opened the door and quickly moved through the crowd of well-dressed guests, his gaze fixed on a woman who was standing, distant, talking to a cold face. It was Irene.

"Lady Vermilion," Lyon called, his voice muffled by the buzz of the party. The woman turned to him, a look of surprise crossing her face. Lyon extended his hand and in his palm lay a small magical crystal.

"Lady Vermilion sent a message," he continued, handing the crystal to Irene. She took the object and closed her eyes, focusing to hear the message in her mind.

Meanwhile, Evelyn, who was sitting next to Irene, turned to look at the door. "The key guest has arrived," she announced, raising her glass of wine in an elegant gesture. She looked at Irene, who had just opened her eyes, and took a sip of her wine.

At that moment, the doors of the hall opened and everyone present turned to look. Two guards, one in front and one behind, entered carrying a strange-looking box. The crowd murmured in anticipation and surprise, and then everyone fell silent when the box was opened.

Inside it was a breathtaking woman. She had long green hair that seemed to undulate like sea algae, prominent breasts like mountains, and a fish tail with shiny scales that dazzled in the light of the hall.

A murmur passed through the crowd and all eyes turned to the woman. The shock was evident on all faces, for in front of them was one of the princesses of the marine kingdom, a vision of beauty and power that no one expected to see that night. The ballroom of Moonstone Mansion had never witnessed such a surprising event.

With a touch of gravity in her soft voice, the mermaid addressed Evelyn, "Good evening, Lady Evelyn. I am grateful for your generous hospitality in receiving me at your grand residence. I apologize for my late arrival, I was hindered by certain setbacks."

Her eyes, similar to an underwater gem, fixed on Evelyn, who was walking towards her accompanied by three distinct figures. The tension was palpable in the air and, noticing this, the mermaid reassured her guards. "There is no cause for alarm," she assured them, "They are allies, not adversaries."

Evelyn, with a relieved expression, responded with a respectful curtsy. "The honor is all mine, princess. I fear my thoughts had wandered to the possibility of your refusal to accept our invitation. However, I believe the apologies you have to offer are not intended for me, but for the person with whom you will make your agreement. If you allow me, I would like to guide you to her."

With that statement, Evelyn turned, her steps echoing in the gigantic hall as she walked away. Before following, Irene turned to Lyon, her voice cold as ice cutting through the buzz of the hall. "Stay here. When I need you, I will call you."

Lyon nodded, a bitter smile forming on his lips. "Anyway, I have nowhere else to go," he thought, watching the women walk away, leaving him alone amidst the crowd of guests.

Overwhelmed by a sense of uncertainty, Lyon found himself immersed in his own thoughts, his gaze wandering around the hall filled with nobility. "What the hell should I do now?" He pondered, his eyes dancing from one face to another, each more indifferent than the last. Irene's words still buzzed in his ears, leaving him with a sense of helplessness. "Damn it... I guess I'll distract myself with the food until she decides to show up," Lyon decided, a shadow of determination crossing his face.

With determined steps, he walked towards a table overflowing with exquisite dishes of all shapes and colors. The sight of the food, despite being oddly exotic, served to calm his nerves a bit. "What the hell is this? Does this look like a bun?" He murmured to himself, reaching out to pick up a small sphere-shaped mound, questioning his own choice.

The object in his hand had a strangely soft texture, almost like jelly, covered with sugar granules that shimmered in the hall's light. "This isn't some kind of sugar-coated slime, is it?" Lyon thought, squishing the green dough between his fingers, the sugar sticking to his skin.

"Actually, it's called a slime bun. It might look disgusting, but it's delicious. I can assure you," a melodious female voice sounded behind him. The surprise on Lyon's face was evident when he turned to respond.

"Thank you very much for the in...formation," Lyon began, the words dying in his throat as he faced the woman who had spoken. To his amazement, a slime-looking woman stood before him. She was undeniably beautiful, with hair flowing like waves from a deep blue sea. And her body... by all the gods, it was a sight beyond the imagination of this world. As he stared at her, his mouth agape in shock, he couldn't help but wonder: "What else will this night bring?"

"I apologize, I didn't mean to scare you," said the slime woman, her words flowing with the smoothness of a stream, but carrying a hint of sadness. The dim light of the hall reflected on her body, creating an ethereal glow that seemed to dance with every movement she made.

"Ah, I...I'm not scared," Lyon stammered, taken aback by her sincerity. He swallowed hard, trying to organize his thoughts. "I'm just surprised, it's the first time I've seen a slime woman. I apologize if my reaction was... inappropriate."

She gave a sad smile, as if she was used to such responses. "Don't worry," she assured, although the hurt in her eyes was hard to ignore. "I'm used to this reaction."

Lyon felt a pang in his heart. He never intended to cause such sorrow. "I think you misunderstood, miss," he tried to correct, "I'm not scared, but rather, in awe."

The surprise made the slime woman's eyes widen. "Awe?" She questioned, the words coming out as a murmur. "You don't need to lie, it will only make me feel worse..."

Like a cold wind, sorrow blew through her words, making Lyon's heart heavy. "Why?" She wondered, looking at her translucent hands. "Why did the gods make me a sentient slime?"

Lyon raised an eyebrow, surprised at the deep sorrow emanating from her. "I'm not lying," he insisted. His curiosity led him to ask: "Do you know these foods? Sorry, as you can see from my clothes, I'm a servant."

The slime woman gave a sad smile, looking at him with a mix of surprise and sorrow. "Don't worry about it," she said, her words bearing an inexplicable weight. "The other nobles don't see me as one of them. To them, I'm worse than the servants."

Lyon frowned, confused by her words. But before he could respond, the slime woman spoke again, her voice low and slightly strangled, "I didn't mean to say that being a servant is a bad thing... I just... I...", her words trailed off, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging between them.

"Sure, I understand, there's no need to worry," Lyon said with a gentleness that seemed to spring from somewhere deep within him. His words, although simple, carried a warmth that seemed to soothe the tension between them, like a cozy hug that eases the cold of loneliness.

With a sudden decision, he brought the slime bun to his mouth, the soft and gelatinous texture melting on his tongue. A unique, sweet taste spread through his mouth, bringing with it a comforting warmth that seemed to calm his soul. "This... is incredibly delicious!" Lyon declared in his mind, surprised by the explosion of flavors he had never experienced before.

"Extraordinary, really. If this dessert were introduced on Earth, it would certainly be acclaimed among the best sweets I've ever had the pleasure of tasting. Or, at least, it would be a delicacy much appreciated among gourmets and sweet lovers," Lyon thought, a smile forming on his lips as he imagined the scene.

The slime woman, watching him carefully, asked with an almost imperceptible hesitation. "W-what did you think? Was it to your liking?"

Lyon nodded positively, a lively glint in his eyes. "Very good. Hm, there's nothing wrong with eating this, right?" He asked, casting a cautious glance at the slime bun in his hand and then at the slime woman in front of him.

"No, there's no problem at all," she replied quickly, a trace of relief passing over her face. "I'm not like these slimes you see out there. I am, so to speak, an evolution of them."

"You're a servant of Miss Vermilion, aren't you?" She asked suddenly, her deep blue eyes fixed on Lyon with intensity.

"Yes, that's correct. But why the question?" Lyon replied, an eyebrow slightly arched in curiosity. The sudden change in topic caught him off guard, but he maintained his calm and controlled demeanor as he awaited her response.

"It must be an incredibly rewarding experience, isn't it?" The slime woman's voice floated in the air, a touch of curiosity coloring her words. "You work for a feudal lord who, in terms of status, is compared to a duke. Not to mention that, for a servant, you must receive quite a generous remuneration, right?"

Lyon blinked, a little surprised by the direct question. In his mind, he pondered, "I haven't actually earned anything yet. Why did the previous owner of this body decide to work there?" He didn't have all the answers, but still, he responded with a hint of pride in his voice. "It's true, it's a unique experience. But you, to be here at this party, must certainly be of considerable nobility."

The words seemed to take the slime woman by surprise. She giggled, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. "Yes, I come from a family with the title of Viscount. I'm truly grateful to Lord Vermilion for accepting my family into his sphere of influence. I want to repay his generosity with everything I can."

"I see." Lyon nodded, his mind spinning with the implications of what she had just revealed. His eyes then fixated on a glass jug, filled with a white-colored but very clear liquid. "Do you know what this is? Is it juice, or maybe wine?" He asked, pointing to the jug.

"That?" The slime woman followed Lyon's gaze, a smile playing on her lips. "It's neither juice nor wine. It's milk."

Lyon's face paled, a grim fear appearing in his eyes. "Male... milk?" He asked, his voice slightly trembling. The thought of such a thing sent a chill down his spine, and a feeling of discomfort settled in his stomach.

The unexpected question took the slime woman by surprise, causing her to pause for a moment. Then, she started to laugh, a crystalline laugh that echoed throughout the hall. Her slime body hilariously swayed with each guffaw, creating waves and swirls of a deep, fascinating blue that hypnotized everyone around.

"Male... milk?" She repeated, the laughter finally diminishing to become a tickled giggle. "Oh, you really have a unique way of looking at things."

Lyon felt his face burn with embarrassment, although a part of him was relieved that he had lightened the tension a bit. "Yes, I suppose I do," he managed to say, laughing with himself. "So, it's cow's... milk, I suppose?"

"Yes, it's cow's milk," the slime woman confirmed, still smiling. "But your reaction was truly priceless. Thank you for giving me that laugh."

Lyon shrugged, a shy smile on his face. "I'm glad I could make you laugh, miss."