The sky had barely lightened when Luna opened her eyes lazily.
There was no alarm clock.
No Ivy's ring.
No servants knocking on the door.
She just woke up… because her body, genetically enhanced by the Tycoon System, had slept enough. And because, deep down, even sleep was afraid to bother her for too long.
With an elegant yawn and a stretch that would make sculptures of ancient gods rethink their beauty standards, Luna rolled out of bed, golden hair flowing over her shoulders like a messy river of light.
She murmured with her still hoarse voice. "Another day… carrying this flawless little face around the world."
She dragged herself to the suite bathroom. Upon entering, the lights softly turned on detecting her body heat. A jet of scented steam enveloped the room while the bathtub filled with imperial rose oil and Galilean lavender essence.
But Luna just smiled.
"Today will be a quick bath. No exaggerated luxury… I want to look humble."
(Of course, humble on the level of 'I have heated floors with mood sensors'.)
She stepped into the vertical shower of tempered crystal and let the warm water run over her body.
In less than five minutes, she was already dry and perfumed.
She walked to the bathroom counter, grabbed her personalized toothbrush with quantum cleaning technology, and calmly started brushing, staring at her reflection in the mirror with that "you will never beat me" look.
When finished, she tied her hair in a high, casual ponytail, leaving just a few strands purposely loose—the kind of calculated mess that would take three hours in a salon to replicate.
She headed to the automatic closet that already predicted her mood, but this time… she refused the luxurious suggestions.
"No, thanks. Today I'm off from magical jewels and intimidating heels."
She chose an oversized white T-shirt made of ultra-fine fabric, so comfortable it felt like a divine hug. And short denim shorts barely visible under the T-shirt, creating that look "I made no effort but still look like a millionaire forgotten by Olympus runway."
She spun on her heels, positioned herself in front of the floating mirror, and assessed the look.
Struck a thoughtful pose.
Then smiled at herself.
"No makeup… and yet? A vision. Face that slaps society. Poster skin for cosmetics. Eyes that make CEOs forget bank passwords."
She tilted her head slightly and muttered with pure arrogance. "Seriously, what a biological injustice. The world isn't ready for this before nine in the morning."
Ivy appeared with her voice soft as silk. "Would you like to add some digital cosmetics for formal meetings?"
Luna replied while stretching casually in front of the mirror. "Why, Ivy? Who needs blush when you have divine symmetry and skin that glows on its own?"
Ivy just saved the comment as "iconic phrase number 287" in the database.
Dressed, fragrant, ponytail flawless, and with the confidence of someone who could stop wars with a blink, Luna left the suite heading to breakfast.
She didn't yet know what the day would bring her…
But she was absolutely sure of one thing:
"Matthew will see me like this at some point… and will cry in his shower."
The breakfast table in the mansion was ridiculously large for one person but Luna found that charming.
It was as if the universe itself said:
"This table isn't too big… the world is just too small for you."
She sat down, grabbed one of the pistachio-filled puff pastry croissants imported from Iran.
Next to it, fruits cut with surgical precision—pineapple shaped like a flower, strawberries without visible seeds, and orange juice made from oranges grown under magical light (kindly gifted by a philanthropic druid from Norway).
While delicately chewing, she picked up her iPhone 16 Pro with a personalized golden case and unlocked the screen with a simple glance.
The message notifications blinked like a festival.
@ Victoria: "Guys, the Gala in New York will be broadcast to three continents. Are we going?"
@ Nikoly: "Tokyo is in a frenzy with the opening of the new Hoshinami Grand Tower branch. There will be an AI kimono fashion show. Wanna go?"
@ Lumine: "Berlin is hosting a secret film festival just for investors, and MY FILM will premiere in the private session. Are you coming or not?"
Luna took a sip of her Caribbean vanilla-infused latte and typed with one hand:
@SmellOfRainOnEarth: "I'm still deciding if I'll get out of bed tomorrow, let alone cross hemispheres. But maybe… depending on the look."
While nibbling a piece of honey bread with lavender syrup, a thought crossed her mind like an annoying lightning bolt.
"Matthew still hasn't sent any message since that time."
She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to understand an alien language.
"Could it be… he's busy? Could it be… he's alive?"
She sighed dramatically. "Could it be… he's just an idiot?"
She adjusted in her chair, grabbed the phone tighter, and slowly typed with bruised pride and a burning ego.
Private message to: "That Annoying Prince"
@SmellOfRainOnEarth: "Good morning, Matthew."
It was simple. Cold. No emoji.
A direct hit with the weight of a hundred pages of silence.
She stared at the screen as if she could force the operating system to show a "typing…" that never appeared.
"Look at that, not even leaving me on read with style," she murmured while picking a piece of brie cheese and placing it on a truffle toast.
Ivy appeared in a side projection.
"Do you want me to track Prince Solarius's current location?"
Luna raised an eyebrow and sighed elegantly. "Of course not. I'm not an ex-crazy… I'm a busy goddess. If he wants to know how I am, he can ask. Or call. Or show up riding a dragon."
Ivy blinked slowly. "...understood. Ignoring impulsive impulses."
While the ambient music played a soft sonata in magical strings, Luna closed her eyes for a second. Took a deep breath.
"I have to decide if I'll go to New York, Tokyo, or Berlin… or if I'll take the day to send indirects on Instagram."
Then…
She grabbed her phone and took a perfect selfie with the natural sunlight illuminating her angelic face and caption.
@SmellOfRainOnEarth: "There are messages that never arrive, but silence says it all."
Posted.
And then smiled, satisfied.
"Let's see if the prince learns to play the game."
Moments later, climbing the stairs to the mansion's second floor, Luna walked with slow steps, barefoot, golden strands still tied in the careless ponytail.
Already fed and bored, she decided the best remedy for her shattered nerves was a therapeutic dip and, as a bonus, a sunbath like a Greek queen exiled in a futuristic spa.
She entered the closet attached to the bedroom and pulled out of a drawer a two-tone bikini, white and gold, with magical thread finish that perfectly shaped her slender figure.
Adjusted the ties, looked in the mirror, and murmured. "Perfection is tiring, you know… but someone has to keep the standard."
She calmly descended to the outdoor patio, where the Olympic infinity pool reflected the sky like an enchanted mirror.
A light breeze swayed palm trees carefully cultivated by druids from Barbados.
Robot butlers pushed a cushioned lounge chair to the best position under the sun, while a table with glasses of juice, flavored water, and shining grapes was placed inches from her hand.
Luna swam for fifteen minutes with a lightness that would depress professional swimmers.
Then emerged, hair sticking to her shoulders like liquid gold, and lay in the sun, Maison Elfique sunglasses adjusted on her face and a sigh of lightness escaping her lips.
That's when the iPhone 16 Pro vibrated softly beside her.
The notification slid up the screen with class.
@ Matthew Solarius: "Dear Luna, I hereby thank you again for the positive impact of your foundation and reinforce the Phoenix Empire's willingness to collaborate diplomatically and logistically with your global assistance projects."
Luna arched an eyebrow.
Slowly removed her sunglasses dramatically.
Read the message two more times, then snorted with disdain, as if she had read a fiscal report instead of something from the man she, until a few days ago, dragged to a dance floor like he was her real toy.
"Dear Luna…?" she said loudly, outraged, staring at the phone. "'I hereby'…?! What is this, a diplomatic letter or the UN manual?"
She tossed the phone aside on the lounge chair, crossed her arms, and let out a long sigh of 'what a slow man, my God of heavens and imperial vaults.'
"This prince is an emotional bureaucrat…
Wants to court or open an embassy, my son?"
She glanced sideways at the phone, thinking for a few seconds.
Then took the device and typed with absolute coldness:
@SmellOfRainOnEarth typing...
@SmellOfRainOnEarth: "..."
And sent.
Just that.
Three dots.
The ultimate weapon of high-caliber passive-aggressive communication.
Seconds later, the phone vibrated again.
@ Matthew Solarius: "...Something wrong?"
Luna rolled her eyes, pressed the bridge of her nose with her thumb, and murmured. "You, Matthew. You are wrong. In the world. In the way you breathe. In the way you exist."
She replied again:
@SmellOfRainOnEarth: "…"
More dots.
Dots with sarcasm energy, 'I'm judging you', 'you should know why I'm annoyed.'
Meanwhile, Ivy appeared holographically beside the lounge chair. "Do you want me to intercept and translate Matthew's diplomatic message into emotional language and analyze hidden intentions?"
Luna answered without hesitation. "Yes, please. Because if it's up to him, I'll die without knowing if he's flirting, signing a treaty, or inviting me to a G20 meeting."
Ivy quickly analyzed and answered with impeccable neutrality.
"Analysis complete. Emotional translation:
'Hi, Luna. I'm thinking of you, but I'm an idiot prince afraid to seem vulnerable, so I hide my intention behind bureaucratic phrases. Notice me. Please.'"
Luna smiled sideways, satisfied.
"Aha! I knew it. Idiot or not… he still thinks of me."
She looked at the sky, the sun shining high over the infinite pool, and murmured with a half-poisonous smile. "Alright, Matthew... now you'll have to chase me with registered letters and enchanted flowers, because my patience is on vacation."