I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Her reflection in the ornate mirror just in front of her showed a face of pristine beauty, framed by long, dark hair that an older woman was carefully arranging.

This was Cassandra Beaumont, daughter and sole heir to the vast Beaumont fortune. As the only child of her late parents, she had inherited everything - the mansion, the businesses, the social standing. She was one of the richest people in all of Drakoria, a fact that both defined and confined her.

The older woman, Marta, her nanny since childhood, gave a final pat to Cassandra\'s hair. "There you are, miss. All done." Marta said stepping back to check for any loose strand. While not Cassandra\'s mother, she sure did look at the young woman in front of her with pure motherly love in her eyes.

Checking herself in the mirror, Cassandra was satisfied with the results. She smiled softly. "Thank you, Marta. It\'s perfect as always."

Marta bowed slightly, this was a habit from years of service. "Will that be all, Miss Cassandra?"

"Yes, thank you. You can go now." Cassandra said to Marta.

As Marta left, Cassandra caught her own gaze in the mirror. At twenty-two, she was no longer the little girl Marta had raised. She was a woman now, with all the expectations that came with it.

A sharp knock on the door broke through her thoughts.

"Cassandra? It\'s your uncle. We need to talk. Can I come in?" The voice at the other side of the door said.

Cassandra sighed. She knew what was coming, but there was no avoiding it. "Come in, Uncle Harold." She said placing a hand on her forehead preparing herself for the imminent headache that was just about to walk through her door.

The door opened, revealing a tall man with graying hair and a stern expression. Harold Beaumont, her father\'s younger brother and her guardian since her parents\' passing.

"Good evening, Cassandra," he said, his voice gruff. "I hope I\'m not interrupting anything important." Not that her answer mattered anyways since he was already inside but he said this out of formality more than anything.

Cassandra gestured to a nearby chair. "Just my nightly routine. What can I do for you, Uncle?" She said staring at her uncle who made himself comfortable.

\'Let\'s get this over with,\' Cassandra thought watching her uncle take his usual pause before a conversation to gather his thoughts. Why couldn\'t he do that before coming to disturb her peace?

Harold sat down, his posture stiff as he stared at her. He opened his mouth and began, "Cassandra, we need to discuss your future. Specifically, your marriage," Uncle Harold said opening the floor.

And there it was. Cassandra fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Uncle, we\'ve talked about this before-"

"And we\'ll keep talking about it until something is done," Harold interrupted. There they go. She knew this was bound to happen.

"You\'re not getting any younger, Cassandra. It\'s time you seriously considered settling down!" Uncle Harold said, his face betraying his worry.

Cassandra turned to face him fully. "I\'m only twenty-two, Uncle. Hardly an old maid."

\'Besides, you are not married either,\' she would have said if she didn\'t respect him enough to care about how he would take it.

Harold\'s frown deepened. "In our circles, many women your age are already married with children. Your father-"

"My father is gone," Cassandra said, her voice sharp. As much as she hated to accept it, to admit that her bestfriend in the whole entire world was gone, he really was. He was gone and there was nothing anyone, not her, not the best alchemists the world could offer was going to do about it. So it was best if they all accepted that fact and stopped bringing him up in every statement.

"Yes, and it was his dying wish that you marry and take over the family business," Harold countered. "It\'s been two years since his passing. How much longer do you intend to wait?" Uncle Harold wasn\'t backing down.

Cassandra stood up, pacing the room, hands on her hips. "I\'m not ready, Uncle. The business is doing fine under your management. Why rush into marriage?"

Harold sighed, his voice softening slightly. "Cassandra, I know you\'re still grieving. We all are. But life goes on. The Beaumont name needs an heir, and the business needs a strong leader."

"And you don\'t think I can be that leader without a husband?" Cassandra challenged. Clearly something wasn\'t been said and she knew it. Her uncle and everyone involved that was pushing her to get married said nothing about why it was so important.

"It\'s not about what I think. It\'s about tradition, about stability. Our investors, our partners - they expect certain things." Uncle Harold stated firmly, staring at Cassandra with a stiff jaw.

Cassandra stopped by the window, looking out at the twinkling lights of Drakoria. "And what about what I want?"

Harold stood up, approaching her. "What do you want, Cassandra? To let your father\'s legacy crumble? To disappoint him?" He asked his niece.

"That\'s not fair," Cassandra said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Life isn\'t fair," Harold replied. "But we have responsibilities, duties to our family name."

She knew he was right. The Beaumont were one of the big names in Drakoria, their influence stretching further than just the city walls itself. And now, she, Cassandra was tasked with ensuring their legacy wasn\'t tainted. A role she never asked for if she was being honest with herself.

Finally, Cassandra turned to face her uncle. "Give me some time, Uncle. Please. I\'m not saying no, just... not yet."

Harold studied her face, then nodded slowly. "Very well. But don\'t take too long. I\'ve arranged for some suitable young men to attend the upcoming gala. I expect you to at least meet them."

Cassandra nodded, relieved to have at least a temporary reprieve. "I will, Uncle. Thank you."

Harold moved towards the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. "Your parents would be proud of you, Cassandra. Don\'t let them down."

As the door closed behind him, Cassandra sank back into her chair. The weight of her family name, her inheritance, her duty - it all pressed down on her. She gazed at her reflection once more, wondering if the woman staring back at her would ever truly be free to choose her own path.

However, enough was enough about all these marriage talk. Like she said, Uncle Harold had walked right into her nightly routine. She stood up to go and lock the doors. It was important that no one walked in on her.

With all the stress of the day, she just wanted a space of her own. Time alone with herself. And what better way to spend it than being intimate with ... Herself.