Chương 350: Mother?

The succubus maid's comical yet shocked expression didn't last long.

She could dress Roland up however she wanted, a privilege previously reserved for the Nightingale Maid.

I never expected it would end up in my hands.

Thinking that she could take advantage of her position to get a little taste of Roland's charms, the succubus maid immediately perked up and plunged headlong into a sea of clothes.

Roland's choice to seek help from the succubus was undoubtedly the right one.

In this other world, when it comes to the study of exotic clothing culture, if the playful succubus is second, no one dares to claim to be first.

Of course, except for the old scholars of that race.

In short, the succubus maid quickly found a suitable outfit, held it to her chest, and looked at Roland with her big, blinking eyes.

"Miss Roland, what do you think of this outfit?"

"A white bodysuit in the same style as Thranduil, a fitted skirt with a side slit and ruffles, and a tulle vest with gold vine patterns, a typical white elf noblewoman's outfit."

"However, to avoid any etiquette conflicts, there are no patterns or designs related to the White Elf royal family on it—don't worry, this doesn't affect its aesthetic appeal."

Roland took the clothes and hesitated for a moment before weighing the white pantyhose in them.

"Isn't this thing actually unsuitable for outdoor activities?"

"Miss Roland, the white elf nobles are all powerful superhumans. At worst, we can just use a mage to do it. There's no need to worry about such a small problem."

The succubus maid looked at Roland expectantly and then added.

"Trust in our succubi's aesthetic sense; this thing will definitely suit that little saintess's taste outside..."

Hehehe, that suits the succubus's tastes too.

In the Pink Harbor costume selection, bodysuits with stockings were the undisputed number one, even more popular than the "reverse bunny girl outfit" which is better off not wearing anything at all.

"Okay, okay."

Roland agreed and prepared to take off her work shirt.

As soon as he unbuttoned the first two buttons, he found the succubus maid still standing there, staring intently at him.

"... Why are you still here?"

"Ahem, Miss Roland, this outfit is rather complicated. Perhaps I could help you change..."

Roland looked at the succubus maid with hearts in her eyes and annoyed.

Succubus maids are great in every way: they have a gentle voice, a soft body, and are easy to seduce (they might fall down on their own even if you don't push them), and they are also capable, intelligent, and can even use magic.

He's always acting unserious and loves to harass pretty girls.

Roland grabbed the succubus maid by the tail and chased her out of the dressing room, locking the door behind her, leaving the succubus maid helplessly pounding on the door outside.

"Oh dear, Miss Roland, why did you kick me out? I'm very good at undressing people."

"Waaaaah!"

……

Half an hour later, Roland returned to her office.

"Your Highness Thranduil, I am ready, we may depart."

Thranduil sat on the sofa in the rest area, his mage hand pinching a potato chip into his cherry lips, chewing the chip as he looked toward Roland in the direction of the voice.

Then I saw Roland dressed as a white elven noblewoman.

"Pfft... cough cough cough!"

"Miss Roland, why are you dressed like this?"

"Is there anything wrong with dressing like this?"

Roland looked at the surprised Thranduil with satisfaction and then pretended to inspect him.

"This is an outfit the maids put together for me in the style of the white elves. Doesn't it look pretty good?"

"It's not bad."

Thranduil hesitated, his eyes darting around.

"But……"

"Miss Roland, this is the attire of a married noblewoman in the Elf Forest."

When Roland heard Thranduil's feedback, he feigned surprise.

"Is that so?"

She raised her hand to her cheek, looking troubled, and left the decision to Thranduil.

"Your Highness, should I go and change my clothes?"

"After all, I'm still a good girl who's never been in a relationship, so wearing a lady's clothes would probably look a bit out of place."

Where does the incongruity lie?

Miss Roland, you are now more noble than any of the noble ladies in the White Elf race.

Thranduil watched Roland's gentle movements and felt overwhelmed by the intense feeling of a married woman.

A thought crossed her mind, and she changed her words.

"No need to change, you're fine dressed like this."

"This is imperial territory, not the Elf Forest, there's no need to take it so seriously."

"Moreover, in the Elf Forest, some girls choose to dress like this in order to look more mature."

That's what they say, but most elf girls who actually do this are either trying to avoid being pursued or have been arranged to marry early on, which is not a good thing.

The reason she stopped Roland was actually because she had some selfish motives.

Roland drew closer and closer.

As Thranduil watched Roland's gentle demeanor, distant and hazy memories flooded back.

Long, long ago, she also had a wet nurse with large breasts who accompanied her through her few childhood years in the secluded Elven royal court.

The elven wet nurse, who suffered ostracism from many of her fellow sages because of her large breasts, often wore similar dresses and played with her in the garden.

When I was young, weak, and sick, they would stay by my bedside, stroking my forehead, gently comforting me, and reading wonderful stories about the outside world.

Just like Roland's current actions.

"Eh?"

Thranduil snapped out of his daze and realized that Roland was already sitting beside him.

The heavy, round drum pressed down on the sofa cushions, causing him to lean against Roland's side.

Roland, looking worried, reached out her hand, wrapped in white silk, and pressed it against Thranduil's forehead.

"Your Highness, have you been daydreaming too many times today? Are you perhaps ill?"

"He doesn't have a fever?"

"Would you like me to cast a healing spell on you?"

The warmth of her palm traveled through the white silk to Thranduil's forehead, gently touching a soft spot in the little saintess's heart.

Seeing that he was about to lose focus again, Thranduil shook his head and shook off Roland's hand, standing up as if he were afraid of something.

"How could I possibly be sick?"

"Miss Roland, you are also a gifted extraordinary person. How could the illnesses of ordinary people affect us?"

"Hard to say."

Roland's lips twitched.

In Pink Harbor, you can find quite a few Imperial superhumans suffering from kidney deficiency, lower back pain, and spleen and stomach weakness.

There are no fields that are over-cultivated, only oxen that have died from exhaustion.

Especially since the fields were deep and moist, the old oxen, when they were too tired to work, would turn over and become the oxen themselves.

Thranduil was unaware of Roland's abrupt shifts in thought and simply looked at Roland with a questioning gaze.

Roland felt a little embarrassed by the stare and, knowing her thoughts were filthy, cleared her throat and changed the subject.

"Ahem, okay... We superhumans really don't get those diseases that people from the lower classes get."

"I was just concerned about you, but concern can cloud judgment."

"Since there's nothing else, let's set off quickly. I've already asked Nightingale to reserve seats for fifteen minutes from now, so it'll be perfect to go there now."

Roland stood up, led Thranduil to the entrance, grabbed the wide-brimmed hat that was prepared on the coat rack, and put it on her head.

The smaller hat was given to Thranduil.

"Your Highness, the sun is strong outside. This is a hat prepared for you."

Thranduil glanced at the wide-brimmed hat that resembled a matching parent-child hat, pursed his lips, and then grabbed the brim with both hands and put it on his head as well.

After instructing the succubus maid on the cleaning arrangements, Roland opened the door for Thranduil and led the way.

"Your Highness, let's go eat braised duck!"

"Um."

Thranduil followed Roland closely, her gaze mostly fixed on Roland's round, beautiful buttocks.

In a daze, she seemed to have transformed back into the little sprite who used to play behind her wet nurse many, many years ago, eagerly anticipating the delicious food her wet nurse would secretly cook for her.

This scene is just like that moment back then.

This time, her body took two quick steps on its own and reached out to grab Roland's hand.

The hands, wrapped in white silk, clasped together, making a soft rustling sound.

Roland was taken aback and looked down.

"Your Highness?"

"I……"

Thranduil was also somewhat at a loss, opening his mouth but unable to think of a suitable excuse.

She is Roland's superior and the head of the Royal Capital Church.

Such childish actions seem rather naive and weak.