“I think I’m starting to pick up some of this language,” said Mera, her voice cautious but tinged with excitement as she repeated a few phrases she’d heard.

Jakira snorted, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. “Sounds like gibberish to me. Don’t know why the swarm finds this entertaining if they don’t even know what’s going on.”

Vicky, lounging beside them with her tail curling lazily around the blanket, tilted her head. “I think it’s fascinating. I don’t think there are people trapped in there, not like actors in our sense. They’re more… moving pictures, like the performance itself is alive. It’s less about the words and more about the motions, the rhythm.”

The three had settled on spending their date mostly around the palace. Vicky had prepared a small feast—finger foods, small meat rolls, fruit, and some of her experimental creations—and now they were huddled under blankets in the theatre box room, perched on the floor. The flickering glow from crystal lamps painted their faces in warm light as they picked at the food, the soft hum of the theatre’s magical acoustics vibrating gently through the floor.

“I wonder what sorcery would be required to make something like this,” Jakira murmured, leaning forward slightly to examine the miniature set on the stage below. “It’s far beyond any enchanter I’ve ever worked with.”

Mera, nibbling on a small pastry, frowned. “Why is there laughter whenever one of them finishes talking? Is there an invisible audience? Or… maybe the swarm can somehow project their emotions?”

“I don’t know,” said Vicky, her tail giving a lazy flick as she leaned back against the cushions. “Fascinating to watch though. I really would love to know what language that is.”

In the theatre box, the strange moving-illusions carried on, their voices oddly clipped and punctuated. More laughter bubbled from the performance, but none of the characters were smiling. If anything, their faces were somber, serious—like mourners trying to read a eulogy while invisible voices howled around them. It left a prickling unease in the air, though the swarm members scattered through the room seemed delighted.

Jakira shifted, tugging the blanket higher across her chest. “That’s… unnerving.”

Vicky hummed, agreeing, but her eyes drifted from the stage to her companions instead. After a long pause, she asked, “How are we feeling about the whole girlfriend situation?”

The question hung in the air like smoke.

Mera nearly choked on a bit of fruit, face flushing crimson. “I-I mean… I’m not averse. I’d need to go on more… you know, dates, but… I like you two a lot. You both seem nice.”

Jakira cleared her throat and glanced away, ears darkening. “And you make me feel this weird protective instinct I’ve never felt before. I don’t know what to do with it.”

Vicky giggled, the sound warm and melodic, like bells under water. “I agree. You’re just so squishy cute.” She leaned in closer, eyes glinting mischievously. “Also, me and Mera came to a consensus about you, Jakira.”

The orc raised a brow, suspicious. “Oh?”

“Muscles,” said the dragonkin and human in perfect unison.

Mera slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh, but she couldn’t hide the sparkle in her eyes. Vicky smirked, fangs flashing in amusement.

Jakira groaned and buried her face in her hands, though her ears betrayed her with their deepening blush. “Gods help me, I’m dating idiots.”

“Excuse you, I am an elegant and dignified tavern wench, thank you very much,” corrected Vicky, lifting her chin with mock regality. “And we’ve got good taste.”

Mera giggled, then scooted closer, leaning her head against Jakira’s shoulder under the blanket. “The best taste.”

Jakira let out a low sigh, not of annoyance, but of surrender. She let Mera’s head stay where it was, even tilting slightly to make the angle more comfortable. After a pause she said, quieter, “I’m up for it. We’ll need to talk to Chrysanthemum. I… admittedly don’t know where I stand here. Like, could I leave, if I wanted to? She’s imposed no restrictions on us, as far as I know. We aren’t captives, right?”

“I don’t think so!” said Mera quickly, lifting her head to look at her. “She seems really nice and super accommodating. I think she’d be sad if any of us left though.” Her eyes softened. “Do you want to leave?”

“Gods no.” Jakira’s answer came fast, firm. She shook her head and pulled the blanket tighter around them. “I just feel a bit uncertain of my place here and the rules I need to follow. Everything’s so… different. But I like her too. She’s somehow both imposing and adorable.”

“Like you,” teased Vicky, flashing her fangs in a sly smile. “I agree though. I like this arrangement. Even if she no longer wanted me to be her girlfriend, I’d still beg to stay. This place is starting to feel like home.”

Mera’s voice went softer, almost a whisper. “I miss her.”

The blanket shifted as Vicky reached out, resting her clawed hand gently over Mera’s. “Well, hopefully she’ll be back soon,” she said. 

The three of them sat together in the glow of the theatre box, their food half-forgotten, the sound of strange phantom laughter echoing faintly through the room. None of them were paying much attention to the performance anymore.

Eventually, they decided they’d watched enough of the theatre box and wandered off toward the bedrooms. The laughter from earlier still clung faintly in the air between them, comfortable and warm.

“Wanna cuddle up together?” Mera asked, her voice a touch too casual to hide the hopeful undertone.

Vicky tilted her head with a sly little grin. “Oh ho ho, feeling brave, are we?”

Mera’s eyes widened, a blush rushing to her cheeks. “Oh, uhm, I mean—”

“I’m just teasing,” Vicky cut in, her chuckle low and smooth. She gave Mera’s shoulder a quick, reassuring nudge. “Shall we use Chrys’s bed? It’s larger.”

The human shifted on her feet, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve. “Wouldn’t that… I don’t know, be improper without her here? It’s her room.”

Jakira flopped back on the doorway frame with a toothy grin. “Well maybe she’ll finally come home and see us all waiting there for her.”

Vicky laughed, the sound ringing brighter than before, and Mera ducked her head, trying not to smile too hard at the thought. The idea of all three of them tangled together, warm and waiting, wasn’t exactly an unpleasant one.

“Okay. Yeah. I wouldn’t mind being all… cuddled up between very good-looking women and waiting for another very pretty woman.”

The other two chuckled at that, Vicky with a sly little hum in her throat and Jakira with a deeper, belly laugh. Together they led Mera into the swarm queen’s room, slipping onto the vast bed as though they’d done it a hundred times before. The mattress dipped under their weight, the short human ending up pressed between them, a warm wall of muscle on one side and the languid sprawl of a dragoness on the other.

“I did want to ask you, Mera,” Vicky said as she draped herself half across the human, chin propped in her hand, her dark hair spilling like ink against the sheets.

“Mmm, what?” Mera murmured, caught between comfort and nervous anticipation.

“Well.” Vicky’s grin widened. “I get me. I’m beautiful. I’ve seen my reflection more than enough times to know it. And Jakira—good muscles, chiseled features, looks like she could toss me around real good.”

Jakira choked and turned her head, muttering under her breath, her ears going just the faintest shade darker.

“But the queen too?” Vicky pressed, the teasing light never leaving her eyes.

Mera’s face heated immediately. “D-don’t you think she’s pretty? That patterning on her chitin, the way her eyes catch the light, the… the umm…”

“Massive breasts that put both of ours to shame?” Vicky supplied.

The human went crimson, hiding her face against her hands, but she nodded anyway.

“Oh, I do,” Vicky admitted, her tone shifting softer for a moment. “She looks strange, sure. But beautiful. Exotic in a way? I kind of hate using that word, since I’ve heard it far too many times to count, but… I don’t know what else to call it.”

Jakira let out a low hum, her strong arm sliding beneath Mera’s head to act as a pillow. “Yeah. Chrysanthemum’s pretty in a way that’s hard to pin down. Not like anyone else.”

“Point is,” Vicky went on, tapping Mera’s nose with a claw, “you seem to have a thing for nonhuman women. Or people. I honestly don’t know who you’d prefer to take to bed first.”

Mera squirmed between them, caught between embarrassment and honesty. “Oh, I never really thought about it. Well… much. I mean, sure, I’ve wondered what it’d be like to have horns, or tusks, or tails… those things just make someone feel more, I don’t know, themselves? They add more to the person in all the best ways.”

She hesitated, chewing her lip, before continuing in a smaller voice. “Humans are just… well, there are good-looking humans, of course, and I’ve found plenty of humans attractive, it’s just that…”

“They’re boring?” suggested Vicky, her tail flicking lazily behind her.

Mera gave a sheepish nod, cheeks still warm.

“Well, maybe from your perspective. I mean—honestly, I don’t know how you two even balance properly without a tail.” Vicky gave a little wiggle of her hips, emphasizing the heavy, scaled appendage curling across the blankets. “Feels like you’d just topple over if someone sneezed at you.”

Jakira barked out a laugh, the sound rumbling in her chest. “And I don’t know how you two can go without tusks. They’re important in orc society. Status, beauty, all of it. Bigger usually being better.”

Vicky arched an eyebrow, her smirk sharpened with curiosity. “And where does that put you?”

“Eh.” Jakira shrugged, though her hand instinctively brushed the curve of her tusks. “A bit below average. Men usually have the big tusks, and they get macho about it, strutting around like it means anything. Women are more often valued for our work. Forge skills, crafting, leadership. Tusks help, sure, but not as much as knowing how to shape iron or fix a blade.”

Mera tilted her head up on Jakira’s arm, gazing at her with soft eyes. “That sounds kind of… nice? That what you can do matters more than how you look.”

Jakira’s lips curled faintly into a smile. “It has its ups and downs. But yes. I’d rather be known for my hammer work than the size of my tusks.”

“Speak for yourself,” Vicky teased, flashing her teeth. “If I had tusks, I’d be showing them off every chance I got. Right now I’ve only got these fangs and scales to work with.” She stuck out her tongue dramatically, making Mera laugh.

“You’d be unbearable with tusks,” Jakira shot back, though her grin betrayed the fondness in her tone.

“I like the fangs, they make you look dangerous,” Mera admitted softly, almost burying her face in the blanket as she said it.

Vicky’s grin widened, sharp and satisfied. “I’m starting to see a pattern here. Surrounding yourself with a harem of women much taller than you, are we?”

Mera went crimson, hands flailing as she stammered. “W-w-what?! No! I’d never! That’s not— I mean—”

Jakira chuckled low in her throat, her calloused fingers brushing deliberately up Mera’s stomach, slow enough to make the human squeak. “Oh? You don’t want to be surrounded by good-looking women fawning all over you?” Her tusked smile was all mischief now.

“I—I like it more like this,” Mera finally managed, her voice a trembling whisper. “When it’s all mutual. You know…” Her eyes darted between the two of them, desperate for understanding.

Vicky’s teasing softened at that, her tail curling protectively over Mera’s legs. “Mutual’s good,” she purred. “That’s the best way.”

Before Mera could say anything more, a new voice cut through the warmth of the blankets.

“This one likes it best too!” came the cheerful chime from the doorway.

All three heads turned.

There stood Chrysanthemum, her chitin catching the low light, her multifaceted eyes gleaming as her mandibles clicked with delight.