Master's... I mean, Georg's sudden questions caught me by surprise.

"Uhhhh... what do I think?" I dumbly asked. He nodded, settling back into his chair.

His question caught me off guard, as I had been occupied thinking about what the merit of giving a gynoid a sense of taste was. I appreciated it, mind you, but it was still worth pondering about. Especially the fact that this model's sense of taste was different than mine had originally been. I had accepted the wine he'd had served to be polite, as most alcoholic drinks disagreed with me when I was human; but it tasted just fine to this mechanical body. I kept my drinking to a minimum either way, as I didn't know if robots could get drunk, and I wasn't interested in learning from experience. But I digress.

"Well... for one, if this is what a so-so city looks like, then I really want to see the capital," I assessed positively, gazing out the window at the evening lights beyond. "I mean, this city is just so... big, and advanced, while still being familiar. There's flying cars and holographic displays everywhere, and yet it doesn't feel like it'd be impossible to navigate. There's tons of technology and stuff I don't know about, so I'd love to just... explore. I've always been fascinated by the sights of a city, no matter how overpopulated or... corrupt it might be, I think it's beautiful all the same." Georg nodded, deep in thought.

"Buuut of course I guess we're going out to the depths of space for half a decade, so oh well to that idea." I tried to squeeze as much snark into my tone as possible, but the only response I earned was a small smirk, so I continued.

"Outside of that, the new culture's interesting, because of how... homogenous it is."

"Ah, right. You were alive well before universal gene therapy was established as a policy." Georg took a sip of wine, his interest piqued.

"Er... yeah. The history briefing I got mentioned that, but seeing blonde hair be so common was quite the surprise." I leaned backwards, deep in thought. "I could probably count the people I saw without brown, blonde, or white hair on one hand, and even then they were all still quite pale-skinned. Is it like that through the entire empire, Master?"

Mas- GEORG evidently didn't notice me furiously biting my tongue to punish its treachery, as he nodded thoughtfully. "Basically. Imperial law dictates a mandatory minimum amount of Northern European genes to be considered a citizen, but there are some who pass the required threshold while still exhibiting differing phenotypes. They tend to face discrimination, but that's to be expected. So, is it true that in your day, humans could be found to have black skin?"

"Well... it wasn't ACTUALLY black, it was more of a dark brown, but yes." The conversation was entering an awkward territory, so I changed the subject. "Clothing was another thing I noticed. It's all Victorian-era stuff. It looks nice, but isn't it inconvenient?"

"The best things in life are those you work and suffer for." Georg proudly puffed out his chest, as though reciting some grand doctrine. "And of course, appearances is no exception. Would you rather we all wear those frumpy gender-neutral bodysuits the philistines of the DHR do?"

DHR? Oh, the Democratic Human Republic. "No, I guess I wouldn't," I confessed. "It's just... unusual to me. Oh, right, I did notice that droids don't really follow common fashion." From what I could gather after examining myself, droids didn't bear any external evidence of their mechanical interior, outside of their looks being slightly "too perfect" to be human. But the innate network I was connected to still helped me identify them when I saw them; and I noticed that they always wore fairly unique clothing. "I mean, they were still wearing high-class or frilly clothing, but I guess the rules are more... lax for them? Like, one android I saw looked like he was wearing a Chinese robe."

At this, Georg smiled. "Androids and gynoids exist to serve their masters; as such, their attire can be anything their master finds pleasing, as long as it doesn't impede them in their assigned function. This, of course, includes yourself; your outfits were designed to afford you ease of movement in a combat scenario, while still having the elegance necessary for a beautiful woman such as yourself. As are all the other outfits I've had prepared for you." His expression changed into a smug grin as I glared. "But if you insist, I could order a ball gown for you as soo-"

"HELL NO."

He shrugged, still sporting his teasing smirk. "Suit yourself."

I grumbled to no one in particular, and took a small sip of wine. "Well, as far as our upcoming voyage goes, I'm not afraid. It could be interesting, it could be disastrous, but worrying about it now won't do me any good. So I'll deal with the future as it comes."

"A respectable position," Master praised. He snapped, and immediately a group of servants swarmed the table to take the dirty dishes away. "But, for now, I have one more matter to attend to before we retire for the night, and I'll need your help for it." He stood, and began to leave the dining hall through its main entrance, with myself following behind shortly. I'd gotten used to the compulsion to follow him throughout the day, so it didn't bother me as much as it should have. My protests would fall on deaf ears anyhow.

"Speaking of which, do I even need to sleep anymore?", I asked.

"Not in the technical sense, but you can still enter a "sleep mode" as needed," he responded. He busily tapped away on his personal holo-device, presumably wrapping up some last-minute business for the night. After a few minutes of walking through lavishly-decorated halls, we arrived in front of a door.

He opened the door ahead of me, and beckoned. "After you, Hildegarde."

Surprised by this show of hospitality, I strode through into the room, curious what this final "matter" was, and Georg followed behind. I blinked upon seeing the furniture in the room. A grand window currently masked by posh curtains. A study desk, sporting an advanced computer-looking device and flanked by a well-stocked library. A large closet door, suggesting an immense assortment of outfits. And at the far wall, omnipresent over everything else, was a luxurious bed suited for a king.

It was a bedroom.

I heard the click of the door's lock behind me.

Shit.