Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1182

Before dinner that day, Jenkins spent his time exclusively with Dolores, touring her properties outside the city. It was good to be wealthy, he mused, but it was even better to be fabulously so.

Witnessing the sheer scale of a royal princess's wealth stirred a flicker of longing in Jenkins to "make a fortune" himself. It was a fleeting thought, of course, but it didn't stop him from wondering. What would his life be like now if, instead of dedicating himself to amassing personal power, he had focused on building a commercial empire?

Dolores seemed to have arranged things with meticulous care. Throughout the entire afternoon tour, Jenkins hadn't seen a single soul apart from her servants. Even though these were her private estates, the complete absence of any outsiders was still rather unusual.

He couldn't possibly guess the extent of the preparations Dolores had made for just a few short hours of "private time" together. Her plans and contingencies covered every conceivable detail, ensuring nothing could possibly disrupt their perfect afternoon.

Since they were scheduled to see a play in the city that evening, they wouldn't be dining at the manor but at a restaurant in town. The reservation had already been made. From what Jenkins knew, the establishment, called Mensaros Restaurant, was one of Ruen's most exclusive dining spots, where a reservation typically had to be booked a month in advance.

Dolores hadn't booked the entire venue, so the restaurant was open for regular business that evening. To dine there, Jenkins had made a special trip back to the church to change into a formal suit.

Somehow, the church knew his measurements perfectly. When a Mr. Fernando opened the wardrobe, it was filled with enough changes of clothing, in all manner of styles, for Jenkins to wear a new outfit every hour for a week.

The carriage pulled up to the red carpet at the restaurant's entrance. Julia was the first to emerge, opening the door and directing the footmen to position the wooden steps. Jenkins followed, dressed in a sharp black suit, a crisp white shirt visible at his collar.

It was a rare sight for Julia to see Jenkins in formal attire. He typically attended the Tuesday gatherings in casual clothes or showed up to Ruen's banquets cloaked in his black robes.

Stepping down from the carriage, Jenkins first picked up his cat and settled it on his shoulder—both of them a study in black and white. He then turned, bowed slightly, and offered his hand to help Dolores descend in her elegant gown.

During the hour Jenkins had spent changing at the church, she had also slipped into a new gown. It was another one he'd never seen before, and just as beautiful as the last. He found himself momentarily surprised, wondering just what a sixteen-year-old girl could be using for padding to achieve such a... prominent figure.

The thought inevitably led his mind back to the passionate night just two days prior, and to a certain fiery red-haired young woman...

Before Chocolate could chide him, he knew this wasn't the time for such thoughts. He turned his attention to the restaurant, a spark of anticipation kindling at the thought of the fine cuisine that awaited.

Mensaros Restaurant was quite spacious. It had no private rooms; all patrons dined together in a grand hall that resembled a ballroom. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and the floors were polished to a mirror shine.

Yet, the hall contained a mere five tables, meaning the restaurant served only five parties per evening. Each table was set a considerable distance from the others, attended by its own impeccably dressed waiter who moved silently through the space with a serving trolley.

The guests already seated were dressed in fashionable and aristocratic attire. Formal suits for the gentlemen and elegant gowns for the ladies were the standard. And then Jenkins saw them again: the silk stockings on the men's legs.

His expression soured instantly, and his appetite seemed to shrivel. Julia noticed. After arranging the napkin on Dolores's side of the table, she circled around to Jenkins, leaned in close under the dim candlelight, and whispered, asking if he required anything.

"It's nothing," he explained. "I'm just not accustomed to these... popular fashions. I suppose you could say I'm a bit old-fashioned."

As he spoke, Dolores, who was rinsing her hands in a copper basin, tilted her head and glanced past him. Then, with a soft laugh, she asked:

"You don't care for silk stockings?"

"No, not at all," he clarified. "It's just... the sight of white, lace-trimmed silk stockings on a pair of thick, hairy man's legs... it makes my stomach turn."

This was no exaggeration; he genuinely found the style repulsive. But it was the height of fashion, and he had no right to criticize others for it. On the contrary, anyone could easily accuse him of simply not knowing how to appreciate "beauty."

The princess murmured softly, a daring thought suddenly taking root in her mind. Perhaps their private afternoon had given her a surge of confidence, or perhaps Alexia's current absence from Ruen had emboldened her. Whatever the reason, she posed her first question of the evening that subtly crossed a line:

"Well then... do you like it when women wear them?"

Though it seemed like a natural follow-up, Jenkins knew exactly how sensitive the question was. This era was a strange mix of conservative and progressive, but certain traditions held fast.

For instance, women were extremely guarded about their legs, considering them a highly private part of their body. Only shameless prostitutes or women of a similar profession would ever expose their legs in public. For any respectable woman, it was tantamount to standing on the street topless.

Therefore, discussing whether a woman should wear stockings with a man was an intensely private matter. It wasn't just Jenkins who was taken aback; even Julia was startled by the princess's sheer audacity.

He had learned his etiquette from two proper young ladies; he was well aware of how inappropriate the subject was. But a direct question demanded an answer, and with the food yet to arrive, he couldn't use dining as an excuse to remain silent. He let out a noncommittal sound, buying time as his mind scrambled for a suitable reply.

"Of course," he finally said. "It is certainly pleasing to the eye when a beautiful lady wears them."

This was a conversation for the bedroom, not a public dining hall. Fortunately, Jenkins's soul wasn't from this world. In his time, such topics, while perhaps a bit embarrassing, were hardly scandalous. Otherwise, he would have been blushing furiously.

"Yes, I believe that's right. Stockings are an article of clothing for ladies, meant to enhance their charm, or... well, in any case, I am not opposed to women wearing them."

He trailed off, his thoughts once again drifting to Hathaway, wondering if she liked to wear them. For more chapters visıt ⓝovelFire.net