Iris had a tiny bite of her sweetened glutinous rice with ripened mango. She licked the condensed coconut milk stain on her lips, savouring the multi-faceted flavour. Her two friends too enjoyed their dessert, though Cilvia stopped moving her cutlery. Her eyes accidentally met Iris, who firmly seized them.

“If you keep staring, your ice cream won’t be the only thing melting,” Iris said.

Cilvia snapped back. She took a small cup of liquid chocolate and poured it on her vanilla ice cream dressed in jelly and bananas.

Lidoac creased his brows but spoke nothing. His friend did not enjoy too sweet, too dense ice cream.

“I’ve been waiting, but had I waited any longer, this chance would’ve passed.” Iris wiped her mouth with a flower-embroidered napkin. “I’m forcing you to tell me your request.”

“Our request is to have this disaster pass safely, quietly.” Cilvia smiled. “Are we not friends, Iris? Friends do not demand compensation.”

“My request isn’t something trivial.”

“So is our friendship.” Cilvia carefully nibbled on her chocolate-covered ice cream. The sweetness numbed her tongue, but Iris’s teasing expression nullified much of the overwhelming taste. “But you wouldn’t accept it, would you?”

Iris drank from her half-filled wine glass. Her sight playfully danced around Cilvia, never meeting her eyes but never leaving her body.

“There are many scholars interested in the ancient arts,” Cilvia said. “Your work has already reached the wider part of our circle.”

“Although I have yet to receive the news of its publication.”

“The formality has always been the longest part of the process.” Cilvia chuckled. “Would you join our little gathering?”

“Can I refuse?”

“We have nothing to blackmail you, haven’t we?”

“You have my promise.” Iris lowered her head, smiling. “Please write me an invitation.”

“Only after you recover.”

“Hopefully it will be soon.”

Lidoac tapped the table. Although Cilvia glared at him, he pretended not to notice. His eyes stayed on Iris. “It’s been quite a while since I last took my vacation leave to tour the country. A conference regarding the field of multi-cast spells is coming up in the Republic of Lupinin.”

“Will the committee grant your untimely leave?” Iris said.

“The matter concerning my breakthrough takes priority.”

“Such an extraordinary claim requires extraordinary evidence.”

Lidoac swallowed the burning, bitter wine, whose aftertaste pinched his throat. “It’s been almost thirty years since I first stepped into the Master Tier.”

“A celebration is due, it seems.”

Lidoac glanced at his friend, who scowled at him. Cilvia wryly smiled when Iris curiously looked at her.

“It’s improper to ask a lady’s age,” Cilvia said. “However, I can whisper it to you, if you wish.”

“Your appearance indicates your youthfulness, Lady Cilvia. I’m too afraid to learn that you’re younger than me.”

“If only it were true.”

“May I learn about the specialist you mentioned?”

Cilvia enjoyed this changing of the topic; she proudly explained this friend of hers, a scholar specialising in ancient curses and sacrificial rituals. Despite his eccentric personality, he remained one of the top experts in the field. If not for owing Cilvia a favour, she wouldn’t be able to promise Iris a meeting with him.

“It was quite a story,” Lidoac said. “Her analysis of his work allows him to complete his masterpiece. If not for her, the field of ritual analysis would not have known how the ancient establishes a contract with their deities.”

 “You’re exaggerating. My fresh perspective only prompts him to dig further.” Cilvia shook her head, though her joyful eyes gleamed as if fishing for Iris’s praises. “With this, I’ve repaid your favour.”

“I’ve yet to give you any.”

“It was the best I could’ve asked for.”

Iris leaned on her chair and spread wide her arms. Her loose sleeves swayed with her wavy movement, with her delicate gestures. Her melty eyes peered into Cilvia’s heart, which pulsated the moment it realised that flirtatious fact.

“My permission isn’t a gift. I merely dislike restricting my fiancée.”

Blushing, Cilvia turned away. She annoyingly grumbled at Lidoac, who was enjoying the performance.

The three researchers chatted about their work while they slowly ate their share of the dessert and drinks. Although they ordered various desserts and sweets, they managed to taste every plate as their topics jumped from their daily life at the laboratory to their unforgettable experience during their field research.

A waitress came to refill Iris’s wine glass, but she politely refused. The reddish shades on her countenance stood out like her passionate eyes; she lightly grabbed the waitress’s hand and smiled carelessly.

Enchanted by that devilish look, the waitress became locked in her place. She cautiously took her customer’s hand off of her, though her trembling shoulders expressed her turmoil. She quickly turned to two other customers, who were observing her reaction with eyes wide and intrigued.

“The alcohol has finally gotten to me,” Iris said. “Any more, and I’ll lose my reputation.”

“Is there . . . anything you still want?” the waitress said.

“Smile for me.” Iris rested her head against her chair. “Serving us three must be tiring. The experience we leave behind shouldn’t be a negative one.”

The waitress beamed at her strange customer. Her face heated up. “Anything . . . else?”

“I shan’t force you here any longer. Please take care of our order.”

The waitress swiftly left and returned with the last tray of customary mint candies and fruits. Lidoac and Cilvia paid the expense while forbidding Iris to chime in. Iris still gave the waitress a generous tip, too generous that she must persuade the waitress to accept it.

“Please come again,” the waitress said. “If you tell the receptionist my name. I’ll be there to serve you.”

“What about outside work?”

Though hesitating, the waitress looked around and leaned closer to her dearest customer. “If you insist . . . I have no reason to refuse.”

Cilvia and Lidoac mumbled their surprise at Iris’s behaviour, unaware that she could hear everything. Iris left the restaurant and parted from her two friends, who had much to say, too much for the time at hand.

After sending her friends to a carriage, Iris strolled along the quiet evening street while admiring rows of storefronts shimmering with their sconces and hanging lanterns protruding from their awnings. Cheers and laughter flowed out from the inner stores while giggles and soft music permeated the open-air food cafés.

Couples and groups of friends trod past Iris, their chattering persisting after their slow pace. They made way for the lone lady, whose presence formed a cold shield, away from the world, away from the sinister intent.

Iris stopped in her tracks as her maid appeared in front of her. Antina perked up under her mistress’s gaze, her dull expression brightening as if shone upon by the most beautiful star. She skipped to her mistress and showed her two sewn bags.

“I have only been away for a few hours,” Iris said. “Yet your eyes indicate otherwise.”

“A world without you is unbearable, Mistress. Wandering, even if just for a few moments, exhausts me to no end.”

“I don’t vanish after leaving you; I’ve always existed, a part of me alongside you.”

“That part keeps me alive, Mistress.” Antina opened her two bags. “I’ve spent most of my lonesome time searching for what would befit you.”

“Shall I praise you, right here, right now?”

Antina looked around her. The world marched on, unaware of her existence. No one would see, hear, or sense what her mistress would grant her, no matter how rough, tender, or passionate. Only the cold winds could perceive her naked flesh.

She pursed her lips and retrieved her bags. She couldn’t expose her mistress in an open space. The most sacred beauty could only reveal herself in the most secretive setting.

“Allow me to call for a carriage. This dry air will do your complexion no good,” Antina said.

“This open space too doesn’t fit your rewards.”

“Mistress, you have yet to look at my results.”

“My confidence in you is paramount. This trivial task is nothing but a breeze.”

“Any task related to you is no trivial.”

“Are you saying that because you hold me in such high regard, or because you fear your reward to be trivial?”

The carriage of The Court arrived. The driver opened the door for her superiors, but Antina took over her job of escorting Iris. She neatly closed the door, covered the window with the vermillion curtain, and sealed the interior with a tap of her finger.

“Can’t both be true at the same time?” Antina said.

Iris licked her fingers and touched her maid’s face. Her warm saliva tainted those mature lips, which vaguely squeezed under her slightest touch. Antina let go of her bags and grabbed her mistress’s hand. Her fingers delicately wrapped around the slender, sleeved arm and drew in her mistress.

She bit on that slim finger. Her body shivered. She closed her eyes and retracted her guilty hands behind her back. Her soft breathing quivered, anticipating where her mesmerizing touches would land.

Her heart palpitated. The carriage went over a crack on the stone street, rocking the compartment. Antina tipped into her mistress’s embrace, which she met with no resistance.

Her mistress carefully traced the strap of her laced bra. The sharp fingernails teased her covered back, yet their sensation cut through her skin and penetrated her nerves.

She opened her mouth, but her mistress sealed her lips. Her moan became entrenched in her throat, dispersed only through her mistress.

The soundless voice melodiously played in her chest, in her ringing ears, and in her burning pink vision. She reached her arms around her Iris while reaching for the hidden knots that concealed the most gorgeous body from all but the selected few.

As the knot became lost, Antina opened her sparkling eyes. Her gaze met a pair of pure sapphires, whose radiance peered deep into her unclothed soul. Her fingers stopped moving.

Iris slipped out of Antina’s grasp and held onto Antina’s hand. She used those trembling fingers to clean the mixed saliva on her face before licking them. Her smile, containing facets of her emotions, endured through everything.

While Iris redressed herself, her maid dejectedly looked away. Antina covered her mouth and nose and inhaled. Her mistress’s scent lingered in her palms.

“Have I wronged you, Mistress?”

“That was merely an appetiser.” Iris touched a fallen bag and stroked its rim. “Should you not appeal to my taste before asking for my reward?”

“You’re too evil, Mistress.”

“I’m a Corrupted One, a Monster Girl, a Senior Member of the Court of Indulgence.”

“And my mistress.”

“Then please your mistress.”

Antina bit her tongue while taking out gifts. She bought a floral ring made from carved wood. On its head was a paper rose handcrafted by the seller. Its folds surrounded the fake jewellery at the centre, which dimly reflected Iris’s silhouette.

The oral jewel, the shape of a bloodied pupil, stared at Iris as she stared at it. Her soul screamed. Her Faith flickered, and her heart ceased moving.

She swung her hand at the cheap ring. Divine light emerged from her and slashed through the carriage. A massive ethereal sword manifested behind her and struck the ground.

Blinding radiance consumed the street and the towering buildings. An explosion endlessly echoed into the distance.

A violent gale dissipated the dust, revealing a desolate land where red mists concealed the horizon while metallic stench dominated the atmosphere.

The carriage, the street, the city, and Antina were no more. Iris found herself alone in this emptiness.

Behind her rang a child-like rhythm from a crimson-hooded little girl.