Half an hour later, we’ve returned to the spare room containing my circle, dressed as if we’re about to step before the king.

As if. Geneva was in charge of our choices. Despite the many options, not a single one of them were “decent” by average standards.

Alana chose a simple combination of a shirt and pants. However, the tight leather pants cling to her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination.

The shirt is worse. There are deep necklines and then there is a nonexistent one. If it weren’t for her wraps, most of her chest would be on display. As it is, I can still see the top swell of her breasts. She grumbled as she put the clothes on but in the end, her choice is the most modest.

Kierra dressed Miss Talia. Being the deviant she is, she delighted in the clothes and had no problems dressing the normally plain, at least in the clothing department, dorm mother in them.

Miss Talia is wearing a dress, in the loosest term of the word. After all, it shows more than it covers. Two strips of black, tied at the back her neck, go over her breast, just managing to cover her nipples, before crossing underneath her breasts. They cross again over her flat, smooth stomach before flowing into the bottom half of the dress.

Which is a skirt. An incredibly short one. I’m sure if she bends down too far, I’ll see everything. It’s beyond scandalous. Combined with her perfectly calm expression, as if nothing is amiss, mm.

Never one to be outdone, Kierra is far worse. She abandoned clothes all together. Instead, she’s tastefully covered herself in a handful of dark green wyvern scales. As expected of my wife.

As for myself, well, Geneva did prepare something special for me. To my surprise, it isn’t something raunchy like everyone else. The opposite. From my polished boots, fitted shirt and pants that tell me Geneva has my measurements, expensive jacket that hangs past my waist, and the copious amount of jewelry on my person, I look every bit the rich lady entertaining her wives.

Though with time to think, it isn’t that surprising. The clothes are a statement. She’s dressed Alana, Miss Talia, and Kierra up to be admired. I’m in more stately clothing because I am to be respected.

I didn’t plan for such overt displays of authority for this summoning as that’s not how I want to define my relationship with this elemental. Unlike the succubi, they value and prefer friendship.

This little runaround is Geneva’s way of expressing her disapproval of such an attitude, I suppose. I do understand her intentions. Being friendly is great but I am the summoner and this is my potential elemental. The creature is here by my will, to progress my agendas and serve my whims. I can be as nice as I want after our roles are established.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

I clap my hands. “Ladies, it’s time. Grab a bite, take a seat, and relax. Let’s get comfortable.”

I sigh as no one makes a move. Moving quickly, I grab the most nervous looking of the lot, Alana of course, and drag her over to the food table.

A good whiff is all she needs. The hand I’m holding immediately reaches for the closest morsel as soon as I let it go. In moments, she is audibly enjoying herself as she stuffs her face.

Chuckling, Kierra moves to the wineglasses, grabbing a drink.

“Miss Talia.” She approaches after I wave her over and I lead her over to a chair. I quickly grab us both a drink, handing her a glass. “Do you know happy songs? Something upbeat.”

“I do.”

“Sad? Melancholy? Relaxing?”

“I am well trained in all forms of music.”

“Alright, great. Then, surprise me. Sing what you like but don’t keep the mood down for too long.” I drop into the chair beside her as she sings the first note, filling the room with wonderful music.

And that’s how we spend several minutes. Alana stops eating to grab a drink, becoming far chattier while under the influence. She moves around the room chatting up everyone, including Geneva and Bell who linger about, and sampling more food and drink.

Miss Talia keeps the music coming, every song as beautiful as last. She pauses when Kierra comes to refresh her drink and deliver small bits of food, taking the break to stroke her hair and gently kiss her.

She really does treat the dorm mother like a delicate flower. Which is completely hilarious as she’s strong enough to be considered the unofficial heir to the head interrogator, the strongest mental caster in the kingdom.

We dance. With Alana, that amounts to slightly coordinated stumbling, as she is terrible. Kierra is much better but also far worse, as we can’t keep our hands off each other long enough to complete a dance.

She pulls me against her and that’s enough to spark a kiss and that rapidly devolves into something…messier. We manage to keep from fucking on the floor, thankfully. I’m determined to see this summoning through.

When the mood is at its peak, I move over to the circle and kneel at its edge. Touching a finger to the smooth line, I channel my mana into the stone, powering it while keeping in mind the elemental I want to summon. When I remove my hand, I can feel a presence both within the circle and outside this realm. “Come join us,” I offer.

A pale blue rift appears over the circle. I catch the faintest glimpse of a grassy hill beyond it before an iridescent ball of light the size of my head floats through and it snaps shut. The ball of light zips about the circle erratically, practically radiating excitement. I chuckle at the sight. It seems my new friend likes what it sees.

“You can join us as soon as we have a little talk.”

The ball of light stops before moving in front of me. Its glow dims, revealing the figure at its center. I can call it humanoid as it has a vaguely recognizable shape of a head, two arms, and two legs. All similarities end there.

Where its face should be is an ever-shifting riot of colors, the rapidly changing vision dizzying to watch. Its hands have three fingers and its feet have two toes. Sprouting from its back are four clear wings, thin, golden veins visible throughout.

At its waist is a thick, feathery tail but as it hovers before me, the tail spreads, displaying the individual feathers that each have their own unique pattern.

It giggles, its body shifting from white to pink. The lueorale’s skin changes color according to its mood. Shades of red are iffy. According to the record, red represents passion or anger. So, either its very enamored with us or pissed off. I’m hoping for the former.

“hElLo!” it sings, a dozen voices speaking in perfect harmony, sounding both beautiful and unnervingly strange. “dO yOU WaNt tO bE My fRieNd?”