The last muffled grunt from the bath chamber below finally died.
Elara sat motionless on the edge of her bed, the silk engagement dress still crumpled in her lap. The silence felt heavier than the sounds had been. She could still hear the wet slap of skin, the low grunts, the maid's broken breathing in her head.
A soft knock.
The door opened without waiting.
The assistant — the same freckled girl who helped with the linens — slipped inside and closed the door behind her. Her eyes were wide, hands twisting her apron.
"My lady… they're done with her. For now."
Elara didn't look up.
The assistant swallowed hard.
"They were asking her everything. How soft your skin is. Whether you moan when touched. If you're… untouched. The prince wants his bride pure, they said. But if you're not… they'll 'fix' it before the wedding night."
Elara's fingers tightened on the dress until the fabric tore a little at the seam.
"Fix it," she repeated quietly. "Like I'm a broken toy that needs oiling."
The assistant stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
"I heard them laughing. Said Lord Alden already ordered extra rooms for the Luxerian girls. The ones from the pleasure districts. They're coming with the delegation — for the men. For the party. Father's already excited. He's in his chamber right now with three massage girls. Taking those herbal elixirs again so he can last all night."
Elara closed her eyes.
She could picture it. Her father grunting, the girls spreading their legs, the same routine every time guests arrived.
The assistant hesitated, then added quietly:
"Lady Seline's carriage just rolled through the gate. Lady Mira is with her. They're already asking which guards are on duty tonight."
Elara's laugh was short and bitter.
"Of course they are."
Outside her door, two maids passed in the hallway, voices low but clear.
"Did you see? Lady Seline's already eyeing the new guard captain. She did the same thing last visit — dragged him into the linen closet before dinner."
The second maid laughed softly.
"Lady Mira's worse. Last time she had two different men in one night. The cook said she even tried with Lord Torren again… poor boy. Couldn't even get it up. She called him a broken toy after."
Their footsteps faded.
The heavy oak doors of Lord Alden's mansion swung open with a low creak that echoed down the marble hall like a warning nobody planned to heed.
Lady Selene stepped in first, twenty-nine and carved like a weapon wrapped in silk. Her crimson gown hugged every curve she'd earned from years of riding more than horses. She tossed her traveling cloak to the nearest maid without looking.
"Finally. That carriage ride felt like a bad fuck—long, bumpy, and left me aching for something real."
Lady Mira followed right behind, twenty-five and sharper, her black dress cut low enough to make the footmen forget their names. She laughed low, hooking her arm through Selene's like they owned the air itself.
"Speak for yourself, sister. I had that cute guard from the escort riding with me the last hour. Fingers deep the whole way. Made the bumps feel like applause."
The two sisters moved down the corridor like they were walking into a feast instead of their father's den of deals. A pair of young maids trailed them, heads down, carrying the heavy trunks. One guard—broad-shouldered, fresh from the outer gate—fell in step behind, eyes locked on Mira's ass like it was payment owed.
Selene kicked the door to their private wing open with her heel. The room smelled of fresh roses and old secrets. She spun, grabbed the first maid by the wrist, and yanked her close.
"You. Strip the bed. Then strip yourself. I want to hear how wet the village girls get when Father's men come knocking."
The maid's cheeks burned, but she obeyed fast, fingers trembling on laces. Mira laughed and shoved the second maid toward the guard.
"And you—keep him busy. I like watching a man work before I ride him later."
The guard didn't hesitate. He pinned the maid against the wall, hand sliding up her thigh, mouth on her neck. Wet sounds filled the room almost instantly— slap, gasp, slick —while the sisters dropped onto the freshly made bed like queens claiming territory.
Selene kicked her heels off and leaned back, legs spread just enough to tease.
"Arun's still in that crystal coffin downstairs, dick burned to ash. Poor bastard. Remember how he used to pin us both at once? That golden prick never got soft."
Mira crawled closer, fingers tracing Selene's collarbone, then lower, brushing the swell of her breasts. The touch was light, familiar, the kind of minor sin they'd shared since they were old enough to know power tasted better shared.
"I miss it," Mira whispered, lips brushing Selene's ear. "The way he'd make us compete for who got filled first. Now he's just meat in a bed of glowing rocks. Father spent half the treasury on Anium crystals to keep him breathing. Waste of coin if you ask me."
Selene caught Mira's wrist, guiding her hand between her own thighs for a slow, deliberate press. A soft moan slipped out—nothing loud, just enough to make the guard behind them thrust harder into the maid.
"Careful, little sister. Keep that up and I'll forget the party and fuck you right here instead."
They laughed, low and dirty, the kind of sound that knew exactly how wrong it was and loved it. The maid on the wall whimpered louder as the guard finished with a grunt, spilling down her thigh before stepping back like nothing happened.
Mira pulled her hand away, licked her fingers once, and stood.
"Come on. Let's see the broken prince before we ruin Elara's day."
They left the room still flushed, gowns slightly crooked, the two maids left panting and straightening uniforms behind them.
Down the corridor, the medical wing smelled of bitter herbs and expensive magic. Arun lay on a wide bed ringed by pulsing Anium crystals, body wrapped in glowing bandages, face pale as old bone. His eyes stayed shut. The machines hummed like angry bees.
Selene stopped at the foot of the bed, arms crossed under her tits.
"Look at him. Used to fuck us raw every solstice feast. Now he can't even twitch."
Mira leaned over him, fingers tracing the scar where Reon had burned everything between his legs.
"Remember that night in the garden? You rode his face while I took the rest. He came so hard we had to gag him so Father wouldn't hear."
Selene smirked, but her eyes stayed cold.
"Waste. All that cock, gone. At least Elara's still got hers to sell."
They lingered a moment longer, trading filthy memories in low voices while the crystals pulsed. Then Mira straightened, smoothing her dress.
"Enough nostalgia. Let's go find our favorite little virgin and remind her why she was born last."
They moved like predators down the hall, heels clicking.
Elara's door was half-open. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the dresses like they were chains.
Selene pushed in first, Mira right behind, shutting the door with a soft *click*.
"Well, well," Selene purred, voice dripping honey and venom. "Look who's all dressed up for her big sale."
Elara stood fast, backing toward the window.
"Leave me alone. Both of you."
Mira laughed and stepped closer, fingers already reaching for Elara's sleeve.
"Oh sweetheart, we just want to help you practice. The prince likes girls who know how to please. Come here —let big sisters show you what a real tongue feels like."
Selene moved in from the other side, hand sliding up Elara's waist, thumb brushing the underside of her breast through the thin silk.
"Don't be shy. We used to play like this all the time when you were smaller. Remember how you'd cry and then beg for more?"
Elara's breath hitched. She slapped Selene's hand away hard enough to sting.
"I said leave."
Mira grabbed her wrist, yanking her close, lips brushing Elara's ear.
"Make us."
For one heartbeat the room crackled—three bodies pressed too close, heat rising, the sisters' breaths hot against Elara's neck.
Then Elara twisted, drove her knee up between Mira's legs, and shoved hard. Mira stumbled back with a surprised grunt. Selene lunged, but Elara was already bolting, slamming the door open and sprinting down the hall, silk skirts flying.
The sisters stared after her, chests heaving, lips parted.
Selene licked her lower lip slow.
"She's getting feisty. I like it."
Mira rubbed the spot where the knee had landed, eyes dark with something sharper than anger.
"Run all you want, little sisi. The party's just starting."
The hallway swallowed Elara's footsteps.
Somewhere downstairs, the first Luxerian carriages rolled through the gate.
The real games were about to begin.