Chapter 38

B raziers flickered along the towering sandstone walls of the theater. Red curtains hung on the inside of arched windows with engraved frames, their geometric patterns drawing my eyes upward to an opaque crystal dome atop the roof, shimmering like a crown.

Long shadows of arriving guests danced on the square, separated from the rest of the city with stanchions and velvet rope, guarded by soldiers in full armor. Clusters of onlookers gathered around the barrier, stealing glances at Xar'vath's rich, famous, and powerful.

Our open carriage stopped in front of the entrance, and Skrain got out first, offering his hand as I disembarked. I smiled, trying to forget how the weight of the plug made my knees weak. After a ride filled with merciless teasing, every bump in the road making me awfully aware of the toy in my ass, my body was buzzing.

The air crackled with joyful anticipation, soft murmurs and gentle laughter streaming from the crowd of nobles and magnates in colorful, elegant clothing funneling toward the theater. As we joined the throng of guests, I inhaled the scent of mixing perfumes, breathing in the collective excitement.

I'd been here before. I couldn't say when or why, but my chest lightened with recognition as I craned my neck to admire the stone-carved columns supporting the grand entrance.

"It warms my heart to see you so happy. Your smile is my favorite sight," Skrain said as I hooked my arm under his and we ascended a set of low steps. "You shine brighter than all the stars in the sky, Kerys. I can't fathom how I have lived a century in the dark without you."

My hand skimmed along the side of my curving mouth. I hadn't even noticed I was smiling. "I think I've never enjoyed myself as much as I have since we came to Xalax'ar."

"You always liked the capital. We could take up permanent residence here if it pleases you, but a lack of privacy will be an issue. City folks are too nosy. And the damn gossip … don't get me started," he said, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Some people had begun to recognize Skrain, and as we stood in line beneath a magnificent crystal chandelier to present our tickets, his name echoed from all corners of the grandiose lobby. He inclined his head politely, gesturing and smirking, his tail swaying.

"If it wasn't for all these vultures, I might even enjoy the night," he mumbled under his breath, keeping a perfect smile plastered on his face as he waved back at an elderly lady with a strange assortment of feathers artistically arranged around her spiral-shaped horns. With a satisfied smile, the woman resumed admiring one of the countless massive paintings decorating the lobby.

I squeezed his arm. "Come on, try to have at least a little fun. You said this is the most important cultural and social event of the year."

"It is. Everyone comes to the Au'rulka Araki—The Golden Sands Festival—to watch performances by the best bards, actors, poets, musicians, and singers. Sometimes even warriors present their battle prowess on stage in friendly sparring matches."

"But?" I raised my brows.

"But more so, this night is the number one opportunity to see and be seen," Skrain said, eyes sliding to me as we inched forward. "Au'rulka Araki is as much about making business connections, climbing the social ranks, and forming noble alliances as it is about honoring the best of the best Xar'vath has to offer. I just?—"

"Excuse me, Mr. Ra'shok!"

My husband's head snapped up. He looked to a middle-aged, stout male with twisted horns rushing toward us. The man gripped Skrain's hand in both of his and shook it, his twirled, blond mustache wriggling as he huffed. What he lacked on top of his head, he surely made up for in extravagant facial hair.

"Dr. Mavix," Skrain said. "What joy to finally meet you in person."

The doctor took a linen tissue from his pocket, dabbing at his shiny forehead and ruddy cheeks. "Excuse the intrusion, Mr. Ra'shok. My wife pointed out when you arrived, and I just had to come over and say hello. We've exchanged so many interesting letters, I feel like we've been pals for years!"

"Absolutely," Skrain responded, that same stony grin still carved into his features. It softened a fraction as he gestured to me. "This is Keryssa, my wife." He waved at the man. "And this is Dr. Mavix, an exceptional physician and Xar'vath's foremost expert in magical amnesia."

The pieces fell into place as I gave a courteous smile. It was he who helped Skrain to find the ritual for the recovery of my memories.

"Ah, such a pleasure to meet you," Dr. Mavix said, reaching for my hand to breathe a kiss onto its back.

My chin dipped as I bowed lightly at the waist. "Likewise. I've heard many great things about you and your work from my husband."

A moment of silence floated between us until the grinning doctor stuffed the tissue back into his pocket and clapped his hands, thin tail flicking from side to side.

"Well then," he exclaimed. "I'll leave you two to enjoy the evening. I believe my wife is getting impatient for my return."

Skrain nodded, the gesture almost a tad too enthusiastic. "Better not make her wait. Enjoy the performances, doctor."

The man bowed and turned, waddling toward a red-haired female Xar'vathi in an orange gown, waiting with a glass in her hand. She was about two heads taller than him and probably twenty years younger, too, but when she embraced him, her eyes lit up with genuine affection.

"So you don't like small talk," I stated.

Skrain grumbled in discontent as he handed our tickets to a steward wearing a dark blue masquerade mask painted with silver moons and stars. He waited until the man had pointed us to a set of wide, swooping stairs to the right before he spoke again, keeping his voice to a whisper as we climbed the steps.

"It's not the small talk I despise. It's the people. They're so fucking fake, I can't stand it. Some of them are useful, like Dr. Mavix, but none of them are true friends. None of them would have glanced in my direction when I was a kid, stealing to survive. None of them would have spoken to me when I was coinless, had no power. Now that I have money and the Emperor's ear, they all act like they know me, like we've been best friends since childhood or something. Fuck that."

I nodded as we reached the top floor. "I understand."

We walked along a lavishly-decorated, curving corridor, past private booths. Voices and the bubbling of water pipes drifted from the boxes, their entrances shielded by more of those thick, red velvet curtains covering the windows.

"The Gods be damned, Kerys, I could become the Emperor if I could be bothered to deal with all the political horseshit," Skrain whispered in my ear. "Would you like that? To be the Empress and rule over this desert paradise? To get fucked by the Emperor?"

He licked over my cheek, the stud in the middle of his tongue trailing shuddering heat across my skin. His fingers dug into my rear, subtly drifting to the middle, down, along the plug. I flinched and glanced over my shoulder.

We were alone.

"I want you ," I said, stepping into Skrain's path, stopping him. "I wanted you when you were a criminal and a prisoner, and I'd want you just the same if you were a beggar or even the damn Emperor. Sure, I'm not going to pretend that I don't enjoy the high life, the money, and the luxury, and I'm so grateful you settled my debt. But in the end, I want you . Through thick and thin, the good and the bad, rich or poor."

His eyes blazed with affection, nostrils flaring. A possessive growl rumbled in his chest, and his hand snapped forward.

My back hit the wall hard, his digits tightening around my neck. His lips claimed mine while his thigh pressed between my legs and a moan slid from my tongue to his. The toy had me feeling so full already, the friction against my clit was too much. My hips jerked, grinding against him, my lust spiraling higher and higher. A little more and I'd tip over the edge?—

Footsteps approached. Skrain straightened, wrapping an arm around me, and I barely managed to smooth over my skirt before a group of women in swooshing gowns passed by. We greeted them with courteous nods, waiting until they disappeared into a box before we continued to walk, too.

"I can tell that you almost came. Remember: no orgasms until I allow it," he scolded as we reached the end of the corridor. He pulled back the red curtain, gesturing for me to go inside. "Don't make me punish you."

I swallowed the rebuke budding in my throat. My cheeks burned as bright as the desert sun this afternoon when I thought how fun it would be if he did punish me …

"Yes, master," I said instead, entering the box.

An amazed huff escaped me as I gawked at two plush sofas facing toward the auditorium, separated by a small side table with a variety of bottles, glasses, and a water pipe on it. I rounded the furniture to reach the low railing, my nails drumming on the wood as I took in the atmosphere.

Our box was at the front, providing a fantastic view of the stage with its polished wooden boards, aged from decades of performances. Copper braziers lined the edge, illuminating a set of tall marble pillars holding up a thick, dark blue curtain embroidered with abstract patterns and traditional desert motifs.

Floating orbs of light shone down on cascading tiers of concentric sandstone benches, each seat marked by a tasseled cushion in vibrant colors. Above the auditorium rose three tiers of private boxes. Ours was on the highest level.

Skrain stepped to my side, jutting his chin at the filling arena. "Seating is based on wealth and social status. Everyone assembled is part of the elite, but even among the upper brass, some are lesser than others. The lowest ranks are the least important. The higher up, the more influential," he explained.

The rustling of cloth came from behind us, accompanied by a bright, familiar voice. "You can't set one foot in front of the other in this building without ruining your shoes in a squelching puddle of self-importance oozing from the esteemed guests."

I turned to find Emily leaning in the doorway, one hand bracing on the frame, the other holding the curtain aside.

My eyes widened as I admired the delicate cherry-red lace bodice of her dress, revealing skin in strategic places along her waist and below her full breasts. The pattern cascaded down to a flowing silk skirt in the same color, scandalously high slits on both sides.

"Creators!" I exclaimed. "You look stunning … and-and blonde!"

Emily giggled, making a sweeping gesture down at herself before running a hand along pearl-studded gold hair clips holding twisted strands. "Thank you. A temporary visual change. You'd be surprised how versatile hemomancy can be, wielded by an experienced caster. Because blood saturates the body, the possibilities are near limitless."

I quirked a brow. "I can't even sense that you used any magic on yourself."

Emily flicked her head. "That's the point."

"Did your research, huh?" Skrain asked with a nod at her.

She smirked as she strutted to the right sofa and sat, answering while she poured herself a glass of sparkling wine. "Of course. After all, I have my sights set on the most famous and notorious target on the entire continent, and to ensure success, I had to become exactly what he likes."

Taking on her role for the night, Emily almost seemed like a different person, less formal, less maternal, and far sexier than I'd ever seen her. Perhaps she had missed her calling and should have become an actress instead.

"No offense, sir. You're the second most notorious, of course," she added. "But I have a feeling you don't care much, now that you're all happily settled down."

Skrain huffed a laugh and guided me to the other couch. He dropped onto it and pulled me on his lap, his fingers drawing along my spine to my ass. "The Emperor is just a tad more famous than I, and I have everything I could ever need right here in my arms. I'll leave the games of seduction to you."

My pulse picked up as I tried to ignore how his casual touch set my pussy on fire, distracting myself by watching Emily pour another two glasses of wine.

"That means Emperor Laxandral is here? All is going according to plan?" I asked.

She nodded, handing each of us a drink. "Absolutely. Everyone is here, apart from High Priest Luscinia, of course."

Skrain's laughter bounced around the box. "He's still not over it!"

"The poor, poor man," Emily said, grimacing before a smirk broke through her act. "To have his beloved daughter run away from home to become a bard of all things … and then have her most famous song become so popular it gets played at the Au'rulka Araki? What a tragedy!"

The bustle down below quietened as the last guests found their seats. A mid-sized orchestra took up position in a pit beneath the stage, and the pleasant swell of tuning instruments filled the air. Strings humming, flutes piping, violins fiddling, drums beating.

"Juicy gossip?" I asked, looking between Skrain and Emily.

"He didn't tell you? This story is by far one of the biggest scandals the empire has ever seen," Emily said, leaning in conspiratorially. "You see, as tradition demands, the High Priest's first-born child is ordained to follow in his footsteps, live in service to the Gods and the Emperor.

"And let me tell you … His daughter is considered the greatest beauty to be born in this century. The populace nicknamed her the pale daughter because of her alabaster skin and raven-black hair. Many wanted her hand in marriage, but there was one man who remained untouched by her charms and declined her father's request to wed her."

Skrain groaned, tail flicking and eyes rolling as he chewed on his lip ring. "Nyxis was— is beautiful. But no one?—"

"Wait!" I interrupted, my jaw dropping. " That Nyxis? The bard who played at your birthday party?"

Skrain's chin dipped. "She's the runaway daughter."

"Years ago, before Nyxis decided to forsake her life here, the High Priest offered her hand to Skrain," Emily teased. "But he said no. To be frank, I never understood why. Hells, I would have accepted without hesitation."

I couldn't help the corners of my mouth from tugging upward as I glanced at Skrain. "So why did you reject the offer? Wouldn't that have been almost as good as marrying into the royal family?"

"Because I was waiting for you , Keryssa. I don't want anyone else," he growled and kissed me so fiercely, my heart danced. "Your beauty, your wits, your charm … everything about you is perfection. Incomparable. You're a Goddess to me, Kerys, and I'll worship only at your altar—for as long as I live. No one can compare, not even the pale daughter."

I flushed, my face no doubt matching the shade of Emily's dress as I stammered.

"Gossip aside and back on topic," she said. "Because my research has shown that the Emperor likes to arrive late for all occasions, I was just down in the lobby, and—" She paused, gaze drifting to the box directly across from ours. "Or see for yourself."

Emily stood up. A dazzling smile curling her blood-red lips, she curtsied and toasted across the arena.

A mature male stood in the box on the opposite side, beside a set of four lavish thrones. His elegant horns had gilded twists at the ends, standing in a proud V-shape above a head of white hair, half up in a braided bun with a jewel-studded clip.

He brushed along his robes, the iridescent cloth in shades of dark sapphire and amethyst creating an illusion of endless depth. Golden embroidery shimmered along his sleeves as he raised his goblet at Emily and sat on one of the middle thrones.

I recognized the man immediately from the murals and statues around the city. They were true to life, down to his goatee and the bejeweled rings along his strong, long tail.

Emperor Laxandral .

A woman stepped beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder, and his attention snapped to her. White streaked her auburn hair, chains with dangling jewels in the colors of the rainbow connecting her inward curving horns. The sweeping silk train of her short-sleeved, forest-green dress trailed behind her as she rounded the Emperor and took a seat on the other middle throne. Her short, slender tail flicked while she kissed his cheek, and he laughed.

Empress Nadyra .

Emily's smile didn't budge as she looked at us and sat again. "Well, he's quite handsome, but such a fucking pig! If I didn't have to, I wouldn't touch a man like him with a barge pole. And I do feel a little bad about embarrassing the Empress."

Skrain scoffed, downing the wine before he set the empty glass on the table. "We're basically doing Empress Nadyra a favor. Maybe after tonight, she'll finally wake up and leave his sorry ass."

"Leave him?" I asked.

"The entire continent knows that Emperor Veryn Laxandral can't keep it in his damn pants," Skrain said. "Nadyra is smitten with him, always has been since they were young. For him, it was a political marriage, nothing more. He doesn't love her, and she's willfully ignored the decades of infidelity because he kept it behind closed doors."

"Good for us, I guess," I mumbled, but my belly tightened with a twinge of compassion for the Empress's misery. "No easier way to get the royal blood of a broken heart. "

The light orbs dimmed, blanketing the arena in darkness, and the murmurs of the crowd died down. As the curtains parted, a company of dancers in flowing, orange robes entered the lit-up stage while Skrain's lips brushed the shell of my ear.

"Try to focus and enjoy the show, my darling wife," he whispered. "And if you're a really good girl, I'll fill your ass with my cum before the intermission."