"Oh, my baby is full now—hehe, you look so cute," Celina cooed as the infant began to drift off.
"Three days from now you'll have a naming ceremony. Darling and I are thinking of a great name for you. Sleep peacefully now. Miami, take care of him—I'm going out to prepare for the ceremony," she told the maid, tucking the child into the cot.
Now I was alone again, with nothing to do but control my mana, I thought, contemplating my next move.
Hmmm—let's plan for the future. Since I already know every event and what will happen next, I'm practically a god in this world, hehe.
In this world, harems are common among humans. Humans live long lives proportional to their mana, and the longer their lifespan, the harder it is for them to have children. On the second day after my birth I began planning a harem in my head. I'm really a sinister child, hehe. Because Decaros is home to many races, I want variety in my harem.
But I also want them loyal, pure, and genuinely in love with me. Having read many novels, I know how to win loyal women: save enslaved women.
Yes—slavery exists here, though sexual slavery is illegal. A life-and-death contract protects slaves from their masters' lust: the slave owes loyalty to the master, and in return the master cannot force the slave into intimacy. Only if the slave consents can a physical relationship occur. Because of this contract many nobles acquire butlers and maids from slave markets. Now I want at least five maids of different races, hehe—haha—cough cough. But first I'll make them love me. I lacked love in my previous life, after all. I'll figure out the details later—now I'm feeling drRowwSsy.
I drifted off.
Three days passed, and it was time for the naming ceremony. It wasn't lavish—only nobles from Phoenix Fire would attend: barons, viscounts, counts, and marquises. The child would receive a name from his adoptive parents in the church and be blessed by the God of Fire, Moloch.
The Duke's carriage, bearing the sigil of the House of Fire, stopped before the church. Guards on horseback formed a neat perimeter. The church gates opened and a dignified man with a handsome, stern face stepped down to assist a beautiful woman carrying a child. They were Robert Garamount, Duke of Fire, and his wife, Celina Goldenerod, Duchess of Garamount.
Nobles gathered to congratulate them.
When some caught sight of the infant's hair, frowns flickered—whispers had already spread that the child was related to the Duke's older brother, who had been cursed. They hesitated at the child's pitch-black hair, but no one dared voice objection to a man of the Duke's rank: he was the first-rank duke and second only to the king. Courtesies resumed, and the guests offered formal congratulations.
Amid the greetings, a man with red hair, grey eyes, and a rough face arrived with his wife—a radiant woman with red hair and silver eyes, cradling a newborn of her own. They were Marquis Albert Dasmond and Marchioness Silverine Leamoned.
"Oh, what a cute baby you have, Celina," Silverine said, smiling at the child in the Duchess's arms.
"Hehe, isn't he? Silverine is adorable too. Silver—who knew that after your child was named mine would be next?" Celina teased, poking the infant's cheek.
"So, what do you think—should we turn our friendship into something more?" Silverine asked cheekily. They were childhood friends and always flirted while mindful of rank.
Albert's face twitched at the remark. Who would marry Silverine to anyone? She was his dear daughter. Despite his crude expression, his love for her ran deep.
Seeing Albert's reaction, the Duke cleared his throat to steer the moment back to the ceremony. "Ahem—ladies, please save future talk for later. It's time to name him. The Pope is ready."
The ceremony began. After prayers to Moloch, the Pope announced, "Worship is complete. The child's parents, please come forward and give him a name."
Finally—my name, I thought, barely containing excitement. This was boring from start to finish so far, and I'd just met my future fiancée Silverine. In the original story he loved her but never showed it before she died at ten—I would change that. I'd make sure he loved her and that she lived.
Robert and Celina stepped before the statue of the God of Fire and spoke together. "We, the Duke and Duchess, give this child a name and wish him a bright and remarkable future. From this day forward, he shall be called..."
"GREVEVEMIT."
A scarlet light flashed from the statue, blinding everyone for a moment. The ceremony concluded.
(A/N: Quite a cringe name, but it's okay.)