"Pardon me, Your Majesty," the guard's muffled voice called out through the thick wood of the door, entirely unaware of the unholy display occurring just inches away.
Inside, Lexel's eyes danced with pure, unadulterated mischief. He stared up at Seravine, thoroughly amused, waiting to see how the master manipulator would wriggle her way out of a sudden palace scandal. Seravine's expression remained tightly focused. Keeping her glare fixed entirely on the door, she reached down, grabbed Lexel's hand, and deliberately guided it over her bare skin, pressing his palm flat against her exposed left breast.
Lexel, never one to pass up a good thing, didn't complain. His fingers curled, and he began to gently knead the soft, supple flesh, lazily enjoying the premium distraction while watching the gears turn in her head.
Before the guard could knock a second time, a cold, gravelly, elderly voice echoed from the hallway directly behind him.
"What are you doing here?"
