The welcoming room is a bit crowded holding my team, Orphelia’s team, Sebas’ corpse, Cloud, two of Miss Alyssa’s lackeys to make sure no one bolts, and my servants.

There aren’t enough seats for everyone. Being one of the homeowners, I claim one couch for myself, gesturing for Kierra and Cloud to take up the places beside me. It would have been Alana but she balked at the chance and the more shameless Cloud swooped in to claim the seat.

Alana sulkily took a seat on the opposite couch, along with Orphelia and Cecile. For some reason, Geneva is perched on the arm of their couch, right beside Orphelia. Something I am choosing to ignore along with every other suspect thing that has happened today. Bell is her normal adorable self, curled up at my feet, holding the little cutie. She, it, whatever, really needs a name.

The men have been left to stand and lean against walls. An outcome no one argued against, whether out of exhaustion or good sense. Besides, their condition is made far more comfortable by the drinks and snacks being served by Earl and Gajin. The gardener originally came because he was curious about the commotion but decided to help. I understand. It’s difficult to do nothing when a junior colleague is working hard.

Miss Alyssa and Miss Talia have commandeered the study for their interrogations. The instructor announced her intention to speak to each of us individually and ordered us not confer amongst ourselves. To keep us from conspiring together I assume. An unnecessary precaution. I genuinely think no one in this room, with a little less certainty for Geneva and Orphelia, had anything to do with this, ah, tragedy.

Nevertheless, we wait obediently for our turns in sparsely interrupted silence, though it won’t last. Lanston, the first to be singled out for questioning, has been in the room long enough for me to shower, don some clothes, and sit long enough to be bored. “What a day,” I mutter.

Fingers brush my neck before massaging. I turn as Kierra leans toward me, tilting my head to meet her lips in a slow kiss. “Tell me,” she whispers between breaths. “Did you kill him?”

“No. Why would you even suspect I did?” I mutter.

“Perhaps you were enjoying your freedom from your fears.”

“No longer being afraid of royals doesn’t make them any less of a pain to deal with.”

“A shame. I thought there might be cause to have a proper battle with Dunwayne.”

Hey, hey. Please don’t try to kill humanity’s champion for a bit of fun. Her hands tug on my waist and I follow their pull, sitting on her thighs while facing her. I deepen the kiss while muttering, “Something fun may be happening.”

“Oh?”

“Geneva.”

That’s all I have to say for her to understand. She pulls away from the kiss to raise a brow. I shrug. “I don’t care as long as I don’t get involved.”

She chuckles, hiding her face in my chest. “You have doomed this kingdom.”

“It’s not that bad. I gave her rules.”

She laughs harder, as if the thought of rules stopping the succubus is utterly ridiculous.

It’ll be fine. Probably.

“I understand that this is your home,” Mr. Four Affinities bites out, “but I would remind you of how inappropriate it would be to engage in…relations right now. You may not have known or cared about Sebas but his death deserves respect.”

Kierra raises her head and we both turn to him, along with the rest of the room. His eyes are red from crying, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, but his gaze is hard. There’s a lot of emotion behind them, just waiting for a target to be thrown at.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“You’re right, this is my home.” If he’s smart, he’ll pick a better target than me. With the qualifiers done and the many more important things in my life to consider, I’d already practically forgotten about Mr. Talented. He could have left this house without us speaking another word to each other but he had to open his mouth.

Is he a masochist? A comrade? If so, who am I to deny him? “So I will do what I want, thank you. I don’t think Seabass will mind.”

He flinches, halls balling in rage. “His name is—”

“Was,” I interrupt with a nasty smile.

“Is Sebas!” Robert’s frown morphs into a sneer. “And if you plan to engage in those activities, I would simply like to know so I may excuse myself.”

“Those activities?” Kierra questions with unmistakable interest.

“The boy speaks of us.” Cloud steals the floor. “As the sun rose on our time in the Sanctuary, I mated with honored sister.” She flashes me a toothy smile. “She mounted me from behind and fucked me like a bitch in heat.”

A few people enjoying refreshments choke and spray liquid at her blunt words, staring at her with wide eyes, but it doesn’t stop there.

She leans back and spreads her leg. A hand moves down her chest and over her skirt, lingering at the edge of the cloth as she moans. “It was as primal as my brethren seeking mates beneath a full moon. I was tempted to simply lose my mind and let her breed me forever.”

Heavy silence meets her proclamation. I preen under their wandering gazes, feeling my ego grow and flex.

Slowly but surely, their eyes move to Kierra. Perhaps wondering how she, my wife, will react to another woman bragging about having sex with me, publicly at that.

Are they anticipating drama? Fools.

See? She looks positively delighted. As if she would react any other way to me casting away my old morals and adopting new ones that align closer to her own. “Lou, you beast,” she practically purrs. One of her hands moves from my waist and slowly strokes my crotch. “Trying to draw another into our game?”

It's my turn to almost choke. “Don’t joke,” I say. I turn to Cloud. “She has her own priorities.” I return her lazy smile.

“Mm. A shame. I would have loved to watch.”

Speaking of watching. I lean toward her and whisper, “A certain blond did get to watch. I think she liked what she saw.”

“Oh? I believe I know what we will be doing once you win your bet with your sun.”

As expected of my wife, her mind went to the same place as mine. I hear Alana’s heart rate spike. You’re right to be worried. Oh, I hope she spends every night wondering what we mean. She’ll try not to. Then, when that doesn’t work, she’ll tell herself it doesn’t matter because she thinks she’s going to win our bet. I wonder, will a small part of her hope she doesn’t? What will she feel when she does lose? Dread? Anticipation? I can’t wait.

“I see.” Orphelia’s voice is full of amusement while her gaze is calculating. “I think I’ve discovered the answer to the question of your marriage. You are both quite…compatible.”

“You mean they’re both disgusting,” Robert adds.

A total masochist. Even if other people are disturbed by our conversation, they can at least keep their opinions to themselves. It’s like he’s daring me to abuse him.

[My summoner, the boy is searching for someone to blame for his pain. You make quite an excellent villain. However, on some level, he realizes his hate is unfounded. Therefore, he provokes you. With every insult, every dismissive glance, and every disregard of his dead friend, he justifies his hatred of you, redirecting his guilt into anger.]

…seriously?

“Disgusting, are we?” Who cares if he hates me? Useless bastard. “I suppose you are just as disgusting then for getting off watching me pound another woman senseless.”

“What?!” His face flushes bright red. “I most certainly did not.”

“Have you forgotten you’re a guy? You can’t exactly hide your excitement. I suppose you should be commended for not dropping your pants and rubbing one out. You’ve got better self-control than a dog.” Arthur, that sentient piece of waste in the skin of a man. Saints blessing, with the qualifiers over, I can cut ties with him for good.

“I didn’t—”

“Hey, tell me something. When you were watching us and trying not to drool all over yourself, which one did you want to be? Me or Cloud? Don’t be ashamed. I know there are men who like taking it up the—”

“Enough!” Cecile screams shrilly, jumping to her feet. “What in the abyss is wrong with you? Our friend is lying dead right there and you’re taunting him? Are you some kind of devil?!”

The door to the study slams open. “By the saints’ blessed asses, I told you little shits not to talk to each other!” Miss Alyssa shouts, glaring at the room. “Do you want there to be another corpse? HUH?!”

Cecile shrinks in on herself as Lanston slinks past the instructor. “You!” The Guiness daughter jumps as the redhead points her out. “Since you’re so eager to talk, you’re next. Get over here.”

She hurries to complies, the door slamming shut the moment she passes the threshold. Lanston makes to take her empty seat but a pointed glare from me causes him to rethink. He settles for putting his back to a wall and sliding down to the floor, burying his head between his knees.