Unlike the thick-nerved Vi, Camille more or less noticed the complexity written on Caitlyn's face. However, Camille didn't pay it too much mind; she simply waited for Vi to leave before resting her gaze back on Caitlyn.
"Although this isn't our first time meeting, this should be our first formal, private encounter. My name is Camille, Chief Intelligencer of House Ferros, and its current Matriarch. If I remember correctly, you are also the heir to House Kiramman. Therefore, compared to others, you should understand better what this status truly means."
Hearing Camille's words, Caitlyn's eyes flickered. She then nodded silently and said, "Duty."
Caitlyn's voice was full of calmness and composure. She didn't care whether the answer she gave was considered correct in Camille's eyes. This was because what Caitlyn spoke was only her own answer; whether Camille accepted it or not had nothing to do with her.
Coincidentally, upon hearing Caitlyn's response, a smile surfaced on Camille's face. But this smile only lasted for a fleeting moment before disappearing back into the Gray Lady's customary coldness and elegance.
"Different people might have different answers, but it seems we get along quite well. At the very least, our answers on this matter align. Of course, that's only alignment on the surface."
Looking at Caitlyn before her, Camille initially expressed her agreement, but it quickly turned into a cool detachment. Compared to the inexperienced Caitlyn, Camille had walked much further and seen much more. Even with an answer identically named "duty," Camille saw completely different ways to interpret it.
"Beneath the halo of duty lie hidden shackles. Today you hunt others in the name of justice; tomorrow, others can hunt you in the name of justice," Camille said calmly. "Whether before Faen's arrival or after, the laws of Piltover have always been nothing but a flashy facade. The shadows are the true foundation of the City of Progress."
"Just like... when my brother Stevan decided to let that explosion burst from the Piltover Wardens' precinct, maximizing the panic in the hearts of Piltover's citizens. In the eyes of those trade aristocrats, wasn't that also a way of maintaining Piltover's order? It's just that the method of maintenance was different."
Camille's face was completely serene. "The weak cannot bear too much duty. But sometimes, a fleeting opportunity can change the fate of a person, a family, or a city-state."
Camille looked at Caitlyn.
After a moment of silence, Caitlyn also realized the meaning behind Camille's words. Though unspoken, they were both smart people. Through their exchanged gazes, they understood each other's thoughts, and Camille spoke plainly:
"Today, whether it's Piltover or Zaun, all order and stability rest entirely on that man's passing whim. I believe you, who constantly accompany him, should be clearer on this point than I am."
Hearing this, Caitlyn nodded.
Just as Camille said, currently in all of Piltover, there was likely no one who understood Faen's power better than Caitlyn... To outsiders, this power seemed to consist largely of brute strength. But by Faen's side, Caitlyn's knowledge was constantly growing. Along the way, Caitlyn knew very well that Faen's strength wasn't just his superficially irresistible physical might, but also his vast, ancient, and unheard-of knowledge.
Whether it was the existence of Janna, the composition of the Darkin, or people from other regions and city-states of Runeterra... Faen could always quickly ascertain their backgrounds. This allowed him to suppress them mentally—making them shy away from his edge and fear facing him—while simultaneously overpowering them physically.
Thinking this, after a moment of silence, Caitlyn nodded as well.
"If the 'opportunity to change fate' you mentioned refers to Lord Faen... then unfortunately, with my abilities, simply becoming his servant like this is already a kind of fortune."
Hearing this, Camille's pupils contracted slightly, and a fleeting smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. If Caitlyn hadn't already undergone a round of "development" by Faen—allowing her to detect subtle emotional fluctuations—she might not have noticed this slight change in Camille's mood.
Having confirmed that Caitlyn had already established a physical relationship with Faen, Camille's gaze softened considerably. She stood up, nodded, and said, "That is good, then... I won't disturb you any further. Your mother has been waiting for a long time. I imagine you'd much rather see her than talk with me. Also."
Before leaving, looking at Caitlyn, Camille said peacefully, "To celebrate your return, the Blue Harbor Estate will hold a welcoming banquet. This will affect the future development of Piltover, as well as the Kiramman family's subsequent positioning within it. If you have the time, don't forget to attend and chat. If you have other matters to attend to, please let us know so we can arrange another time and adjust the guest list according to your schedule."
As she spoke, Camille gave a slight bow. Seeing this, Caitlyn nodded unhurriedly, and Camille turned to leave.
Although their conversation wasn't very long, and Camille had given her ample respect from the start, sensing the shift in Camille's attitude after learning she was Faen's property...
It wasn't blatantly obvious, but Caitlyn could feel that the change in Camille was absolutely not limited to just a flicker in her eyes or a fleeting smile. It represented a fundamental shift and confirmation in her attitude toward Caitlyn, how she interacted with her, and even her stance toward the entire Kiramman family.
Is this... the harvest after the sacrifice?
Lowering her head, Caitlyn subconsciously placed her hand on her lower abdomen.
Although it was her first time, to be honest, Caitlyn hadn't felt much discomfort. In fact, nourished by the Joy Factor, Caitlyn could clearly feel that her physical condition was at its absolute peak.
Though he was rough, though every entry smashed into the deepest part of her body, completely churning and making a mess of the place meant to nurture future life, and finally filling her to the brim until her belly bulged—leaving a pink mark similar to Seraphine's, but slightly lighter in color... Caitlyn could feel that her body didn't reject or fear it at all; instead, it grew increasingly craving and dependent.
The changes in her body were one thing, but even how others viewed her, and their attitude toward her family, had changed along with it...
This brought a self-deprecating smile to Caitlyn's face.
So this is what it means to 'borrow the tiger's might'...
Through the fabric of her enforcer uniform, Caitlyn's fingers gently pressed against her slightly bulging lower abdomen. Beneath that layer of fabric, she could even feel that pink "Mark of Pleasure" radiating a scalding heat. With her pressing, her secret flower house—which had been roughly pounded open by Faen and had yet to completely close—let out an uncontrollable squelch and squeezed out a large glob of viscous, turbid white liquid.
"Ngh..."
Caitlyn bit her lip hard, forcing down the sweet, breathy moan that was about to escape her throat. Because Faen had maliciously confiscated her panties, this murky juice—a mixture of her own love fluids and Faen's thick cum—slid down the smooth inner side of her thigh without any obstruction. That sticky, wet, slippery sensation, carrying a strong scent of male musk, made her legs turn to jelly. She could only awkwardly clamp her knees together, trying to stop the "evidence" that might drip onto the carpet at any moment.
But the harder she forced herself to endure, the more intense the emptiness welling up from deep within her flesh became. Memories of last night's madness flashed uncontrollably through her mind: how she had kneeled between Faen's legs like a female dog in heat, how she had greedily swallowed that thick, ferocious meat rod, and how she had begged him with tears in her eyes to fill her up. What made her feel even more hopeless was that, even while confronting a politician of Camille's caliber just moments ago, her nipples—swollen from Faen's kneading—had been restlessly standing erect and rubbing against the inside of her uniform the entire time.
The realization of being "thoroughly trained into Faen's exclusive meat toilet" didn't make Caitlyn feel humiliated. On the contrary, amidst the extreme immorality, she felt a bone-melting pleasure. With a flushed face, she could only lean against the wall, allowing the streams of turbid fluid to continue staining the hem of her uniform.