Chapter 52: The Allure of Succubus Milk Ice Cream

Huh? Succubus milk has a smoother, sweeter texture, making it perfect for a special ice cream treat? Is there something wrong with that?

Beatrice, startled by the Demon King’s sudden burst of enthusiasm, unconsciously leaned back, blinking her beautiful eyes, a hint of nervousness coloring her words.

She couldn’t quite fathom why Her Majesty would react so intensely to such a simple statement.

“Yes, yes! That’s it—ice cream! What a truly marvelous word!”

“The name itself sounds sufficiently unique, sufficiently refined; if I could make it for Noah, the flavor would undoubtedly captivate her!”

Letitia’s eyes sparkled with excitement, yet after a moment of fervent praise, she pinched her chin and asked, a hint of confusion in her voice:

“So, what exactly is ice cream?”

“Uh… it’s sweet, cool, and smooth, melting away the moment it touches your tongue, as if coating it with a delicate layer of frozen milk.”

Noticing the lingering confusion on Letitia’s face, Beatrice opened the kitchen’s refrigerator and retrieved a tub of white ice cream.

The Demon King’s castle boasted boilers that had burned for millennia and cold storage vaults maintaining perpetual low temperatures; yet, for Letitia, who had never once ventured into a kitchen, these were entirely uncharted domains.

“Words are futile, Your Majesty; pray, taste it for yourself.”

As Beatrice spoke, she lifted the lid, scooped up a spoonful, and brought it to Letitia’s lips, inviting her to taste.

Letitia, showing no hesitation, took the entire spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, imbued with an intrepid spirit of exploration and courage.

“Ugh!”

The very next second, Letitia’s face contorted in pain from the intense cold; she instinctively hunched her shoulders, feeling as though her tongue might be frostbitten.

Yet, in the subsequent instant, the smooth, melting confection in her mouth flowed from the tip of her tongue down her throat, its cool sweetness invigorating her senses and permeating every corner of her mouth, causing a faint blush to creep across Letitia’s cheeks.

“So… so delicious…”

Letitia’s eyes widened in disbelief; she simply could not fathom how such a delectable and unique dessert could exist, yet she had never once experienced it throughout her long, lich existence!

The sensation bore a curious resemblance to the invasive touch of Noah’s tongue, both delivering a stimulating yet yielding feeling that deeply permeated the recesses of her mouth.

The stark contrast, however, lay in Noah’s fragrant tongue being warm and moist, whereas the ice cream’s texture was cold and dry.

Furthermore, despite its sweetness, the flavor lacked depth; Letitia felt that while this ice cream offered an initial burst of stimulation, its lingering impression was woefully inadequate.

It was nothing like the lingering, fragrant sensation left on her lips and teeth after savoring Noah’s freshly produced succubus milk.

“This dessert… where was it acquired?”

Letitia composed herself, the blush that had risen due to her recent association swiftly receding.

She opened her eyes, observing the faint glimmer of expectation and concern that, despite her usual impassivity, flickered across Beatrice’s face, and slowly began to speak:

“It is a dessert specially delivered from the Holy Church Empire, primarily favored by some demons and mages within the maid corps, and also by the Crimson Knight, Iraelites, as a delicacy to temper her flames.”

Beatrice paused for a brief moment of thought before providing a clear answer.

Although her facial expression remained utterly devoid of change, one could still discern her true sentiments and emotions from the subtle shifts in the atmosphere surrounding her and the fleeting fluctuations in her gaze.

As she was the most exquisite of automatons, even the slightest tremor of emotion could be clearly conveyed.

“I see.”

Letitia nodded slightly, now understanding why the maids had never presented this particular dessert for her to sample; liches possessed a lower body temperature than ordinary beings and were consequently far more sensitive to thermal fluctuations.

Indeed, for a fleeting moment, she had genuinely perceived it as an icy torment, designed solely to obliterate her sense of taste.

Nevertheless, the mellow, smooth texture that emerged after it melted proved quite memorable.

“Beatrice, do you possess any experience in crafting ice cream from succubus milk?”

Having made her decision, Letitia retrieved the chilled succubus milk from its container, gently shaking it until the creamy white liquid swirled luxuriantly within.

“I possess some rudimentary knowledge, Your Majesty.”

The ever-resourceful Beatrice replied with a touch of humility.

“Then, I command your assistance in crafting the finest ice cream the world has ever known, using this most precious succubus milk. Not a single drop shall be wasted.”

Letitia’s eyes narrowed slightly, exuding the profound gravity and majesty befitting a Demon King.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

As if entrusted with the most momentous of missions, Beatrice lowered her head, responding with unwavering conviction and strength.

“Astolfo, come here and help me consider which dishes would be most suitable to reward Noah upon her return from a long journey, to be paired with this succubus milk ice cream as a post-meal dessert.”

Letitia beckoned, and Astolfo immediately approached, her hands clasped before her. After a moment of earnest consideration, befitting a professional maid, she presented Letitia with several suitable options.

“Oh, right, there’s one more matter.”

Letitia, in the midst of her preparations, suddenly recalled something and hastily instructed Astolfo:

“Go and summon the court tailor. Have them custom-make a maid outfit in my size—one that accentuates my figure, rather alluring, and ideally, the kind that would delight Noah.”

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

Astolfo curtsied slightly, acknowledging the command.

“Regarding the custom maid outfit, should it be in the same unique style as Lady Noah’s self-designed one?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Letitia, momentarily perplexed by Astolfo’s words, blinked and inquired.

“To put it simply, do you wish to wear the exact same attire as Lady Noah?”

Astolfo stated, her expression unwavering.

“Hmph!”

Letitia’s face flushed crimson as she recalled Noah in her maid outfit, causing her to avert her gaze and speak with a noticeable stiffness.

“No, no, let’s keep it a bit more conservative…”

The flush on Letitia’s face spread all the way to her earlobes, and her normally dark crimson, majestic eyes became diffused with a hazy mist.

If the chosen attire proved too suggestive, she feared she might become Noah’s dinner before the actual dessert even made its appearance.

Beatrice, standing nearby, also found her delicate cheeks tinged with a faint blush; Astolfo’s words had unexpectedly triggered a series of illicit associations in her mind.

She remembered seeing Noah yesterday and vividly pictured the pure-faced saintess clad in a maid outfit, striking poses reminiscent of a gravure idol.

‘That sensation was truly exhilarating!’

“Yes, I shall obey your command.”

Astolfo bowed slightly and, bearing Letitia’s command, departed from the kitchen.

Before pushing open the door, she cast a lingering glance at Beatrice from the corner of her eye.

Beatrice, harboring a guilty conscience, dared not meet her gaze, pretending instead to immerse herself in her work, only to lift her head in perplexity a moment later.

‘Wait, I don’t think… I did anything wrong, did I?’