Goddess's Yuri harem: Chosing the Empress is hard

The morning sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of the temple's tea room, casting colorful patterns on the floor. Auriel sat at a polished oak table, a porcelain teacup poised in her hand. Across from her sat Lady Amara, the second candidate for the throne.

Amara was a striking woman, with dark brown hair cascading in loose waves over her shoulders and golden eyes that seemed to shimmer when the light caught them. 

She was taller than Auriel by a few inches, and her elegant demeanor was paired with a delicate shyness that manifested in soft blushes and hesitant words.

Auriel sipped her tea, observing the lady curiously. Amara's hands trembled slightly as she lifted her cup, her gaze flicking up to meet Auriel's before darting back down to the table.

"So, Lady Amara," Auriel began, her tone light, "what inspired you to take up this candidacy for the throne?"

Amara's face turned a deeper shade of red, and her voice wavered. "I-it wasn't my d-decision, Your Divine Grace. M-my family thought it w-was best."

Auriel tilted her head, intrigued. "Do you agree with them?"

Amara's eyes widened, and she nearly spilled her tea. "I-I… w-well… I t-think it's an honor to s-serve my people, b-but…" She trailed off, her hands clutching the teacup tightly.

Auriel couldn't help but smile. The duchess's nervousness was endearing, a stark contrast to Evelyn Greengrass's fiery confidence. She turned to Lilith, who stood nearby, her expression neutral but her eyes betraying a hint of unease.

"I think I'd like to spend some time with Lady Amara," Auriel said, setting her cup down. "Perhaps a walk through the gardens? It would be nice to talk more in a less formal setting."

Lilith's brow furrowed, and she stepped closer, her voice low. "Divine One, are you certain? It may be best to reconsider. You've only just met Lady Amara, and there are—"

Auriel raised a hand to cut her off gently. "I'll be fine, Lilith. She seems sweet, and a little fresh air will do us both good."

The priestess hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. "As you wish, O Divine One. But please, be cautious."

The temple gardens were a serene expanse of blooming flowers, neatly trimmed hedges, and winding stone paths. Auriel strolled alongside Amara, who seemed to grow increasingly flustered with each step.

"It's beautiful out here," Auriel said, glancing at the duchess. "Don't you think?"

Amara nodded quickly, her golden eyes darting around. "Y-yes, it's lovely. A-a place fitting for someone as r-radiant as you, Your Divine Grace."

Auriel chuckled softly. "You don't have to flatter me, you know. I'm here to understand you, not to be put on a pedestal."

Amara's blush deepened, and she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. "I-I'm sorry. I d-didn't mean to…"

Auriel reached out to touch her arm reassuringly, but Amara jumped slightly at the contact, her face turning a shade of red Auriel didn't think was possible.

As they walked, Auriel tried to draw Amara into conversation, asking about her upbringing, her family, and her vision for the kingdom. The duchess stuttered through her answers, her voice barely above a whisper. Yet, despite her shyness, there was an odd energy to her.

Auriel began to notice that while Amara's words were timid, her hands were surprisingly bold.

The first time it happened, Auriel thought she imagined it. They stopped by a rosebush, and as Auriel bent to admire a particularly vibrant bloom, she felt a hand brush her lower back. She straightened and glanced at Amara, who was staring at the flowers with exaggerated intensity.

"Did you—?" Auriel began, but Amara cut her off.

"W-what a lovely flower!" the duchess exclaimed, her voice shaky but loud. "S-so delicate and p-perfect!"

Auriel frowned but decided to let it go. Perhaps it had been an accident.

But then it happened again.

As they passed a stone bench, Auriel paused to adjust her gown. Amara, who had been walking beside her, suddenly reached out, her hand brushing Auriel's arm and lingering longer than necessary.

"Sorry!" Amara squeaked, pulling back so quickly that it almost seemed like she had touched something hot.

Auriel raised an eyebrow, studying the duchess. "Are you all right, Lady Amara? You seem… tense."

Amara laughed nervously, wringing her hands. "O-oh, I'm fine! J-just a little n-nervous being in your p-presence, Your Divine Grace."

Auriel smiled faintly but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to the duchess's behavior. Her instincts, honed over centuries, were warning her to stay on guard.

As they continued their walk, Amara's hands became bolder. A "steadying touch" on Auriel's waist as they navigated a narrow path. A "friendly pat" on her shoulder that lingered a second too long. By the time they reached the garden's center, Auriel was thoroughly on edge.

"Lady Amara," Auriel said, stopping by a marble fountain. Her tone was firm but not unkind. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Amara froze, her face paling. "I-I don't know what you mean, Your Divine Grace."

Auriel crossed her arms, her silver eyes narrowing slightly. "You've been… very forward today, despite your shyness. It's a bit unusual."

Amara's golden eyes widened, and she looked down, her hands clutching the fabric of her dress. "I-I'm sorry if I've offended you," she whispered. "I-I didn't mean to…"

Auriel sighed, softening her expression. "I'm not offended, Amara. I just want to understand you better. That's why I'm here, remember?"

Amara hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Y-you're very kind, Your Divine Grace. I-I'll try to be better."

As they resumed their walk, Auriel couldn't help but feel that there was more to Amara than met the eye. Her shy demeanor and bold actions didn't add up, and Auriel's instincts told her to tread carefully.

The longer Auriel spent with Amara, the more she noticed the strange dichotomy in the duchess's behavior. Her words were soft, hesitant, and shy, painting the picture of someone easily flustered and uncertain. But her actions told a completely different story—bold, deliberate, and unsettlingly intimate.

Auriel tried to push away the unease growing in her chest, reasoning that perhaps Amara's nerves were just manifesting in odd ways. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something deeper beneath the surface.

"Lady Amara," Auriel said after an awkward silence, "you've been standing for a while. Would you like to rest for a bit?"

Amara's golden eyes lit up, and a soft smile curved her lips. "I-I think that would be lovely, Your Divine Grace. Thank you for your kindness."

Auriel nodded, scanning the garden for a suitable spot. Her gaze landed on a shaded bench beneath a flowering cherry tree, its delicate pink petals fluttering to the ground like snowflakes. "That looks like a nice place."

Amara followed her gaze and nodded eagerly. "Y-yes, perfect."

They walked to the bench, and Auriel settled herself down, sighing softly as the cool breeze brushed against her skin. Amara sat beside her, her hands folded neatly in her lap. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet hum of nature filling the space between them.

"This is so peaceful," Amara said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned to Auriel, her golden eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a shiver down the goddess's spine. "I wish the world could always be like this. Just the two of us… and no one else."

Auriel froze, her heart skipping a beat. There was something in Amara's tone—something far too serious, too possessive. Her instincts screamed at her to tread carefully.

She forced a smile, trying to keep her voice light. "That's a lovely thought, Lady Amara. But the world is full of people, and each of them has their role to play. It wouldn't be the same without them."

Amara's expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. "I-I suppose you're right," she murmured. But the way her eyes lingered on Auriel suggested that she wasn't entirely convinced.

Desperate to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory, Auriel cleared her throat. "So, Lady Amara, what do you enjoy doing in your free time? Do you have any hobbies?"

Amara blinked, the intensity in her gaze softening. "Hobbies?"

Auriel nodded, relieved that the question seemed to catch the duchess off guard. "Yes. Everyone has something they enjoy doing. Painting, reading, gardening… things like that."

Amara tilted her head, her golden eyes thoughtful. "I… I like embroidery," she said after a moment. "And I enjoy reading poetry. My mother used to read me poems when I was younger, and I suppose it just… stuck with me."

"That sounds wonderful," Auriel said, her smile now more genuine. "Poetry can be so moving. Do you have a favorite poet?"

Amara's face lit up, and for the first time, her shyness seemed to fade. She launched into an animated explanation of her favorite poets and their works, her stutter disappearing as she spoke passionately about verses and themes that resonated with her.

Auriel listened intently, nodding and asking questions to keep the conversation flowing. The more Amara talked, the more normal she seemed—almost endearing in her enthusiasm.

Yet, even as Auriel engaged with her, the earlier comment lingered in her mind like a shadow. There was something unsettling about the way Amara had spoken, as though the quiet moment they shared was more than just a pleasant interlude to her.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the garden, Auriel decided it was time to head back to the temple.

"This has been lovely, Lady Amara," she said, rising to her feet. "But I think we should return. It's getting late."

Amara stood as well, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "O-of course, Your Divine Grace. Thank you for spending time with me. I-it means more than you know."

Auriel smiled, though a part of her remained wary. "The pleasure was mine."

As they walked back, Auriel couldn't help but wonder what other secrets the shy yet bold duchess was hiding. Something told her that her interactions with Amara were far from over—and that the true depths of the duchess's personality had yet to reveal themselves.