“It’s gotten quite late,” Parmin said. “Iris, would you like an escort?”

Iris stood beside a glass wall, with yellow-rimmed crimson curtains decorating its frame. Below the private lounge, ladies of high society, dressed in various kinds of clothes, some plain, some elegant, some amatory, enjoyed the services the salon offered.

Their voices inaudibly loitered; Iris decided not to eavesdrop. Their expressions alone implied the topics.

“Too many eyes are on me, Parmin,” Iris said. “Rumours will fly if someone sees us together, crossing arms.”

“Oh my. Do you wish to take my lonely arm?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Parmin chuckled. “Only we will know what happens, and how it happens.”

“Am I included in this clandestine lovemaking?” Morbi said.

“Of . . . of course I was joking!” Parmin pursed her lips. Her eyes slithered around Iris’s figure. Though they delicately caressed every part of her, they also examined her systematically. “But, I’m worried for her. Right now she’s . . . unstable.”

Secain, standing beside Iris, opened her mouth, but she found no reasonable words to object to that worry. She . . . was too weak to protect her mistress. Those threats . . . exceeded her capability.

As of now, she must grow stronger, unless she wished to remain a fragile lover of her sole mistress.

Iris glanced at the anxious Secain. “You need not overexert yourself, Secain. Your duty is now the healer of my heart. That . . . is far more important than the protector of my form.”

Faint pink shades appeared on Secain’s cheeks, but she kept her mouth sealed, unwilling to accept such a role. Her mistress always helped her, and she didn’t want to admit it. She was supposed to serve her mistress, not receive her love and pampering!

“And you need not overexert yourself, Iris.” Vindette walked to Iris. She lowered her head, leaning close to Iris, and grasped Iris’s hand. Her finger traced Iris’s wrist, where a bracelet made of clouds coiled around her slime. “My gaze will once again follow you wherever you wish. I also don’t mind if you wish to show me things private.”

The bracelet whitened, its dull appearance now shimmering.

“Please . . . not now.” Iris drew back her hand. She touched her wrist. The soft cloud-like bracelet squeezed against her fingers. “Could you . . . give me some privacy? I, Ludmint and I, we are a couple. She might get jealous.”

Vindette stepped away from Iris. “I’ll gladly oblige by your wish. However, you must choose an escort. She’ll help you deal with the trifling trouble. Your current condition, you might let your passion lead your heart.”

“I would never!” Iris turned to stare at Vindette. Her misty eyes widened. “I . . . would never take anyone against their will. They must accept our way before they cross to our side.”

“The rational you won’t falter, that we all know well, but the emotional you are irrational. Passion blinds, Dear Iris. Allow one of us to stay by your side so that we can quell your appetite.”

Iris wished to deny the possibility, but her quivering heart, her quickened breaths, reminded her of her situation. The fatigue coursing beneath her attire muddled her thoughts, soothing the remainder of her restraint.

She might really lose it.

“Secain—no. Lorient, you’ll accompany me.” Iris looked at the disappointed Secain, who fought her urge to knee and plead with her mistress. “There’s something I need you to do, my dear Secain. Please help me learn about other Irises roaming this city.”

Lorient, who was rigidly leaning on a wall, straightened herself. Her eyes sparkled as her aura shifted from its prior restlessness to determination. Although she was now weaker than her mistress, she could still help her in . . . other activities.

“Please don’t hesitate to lean on me, Mistress. Your grace is my treasure, your love my reward.”

“I shall complete your goal with all my ability,” Secain said. “Please shower me with your affection too.”

“Have you ever gone unloved?”

Secain lowered her head. Her blushes brightened her dark uniform. “Please allow me to go complete your task.”

“Remember, Secain, that you have a piece of my heart. To sacrifice yourself is to sacrifice that part of me.”

If not for such unreasonable reasoning, Secain might risk herself. Like mistress, like maid.

Secain affirmed her mistress’s words and, after giving her mistress’s hand one last kiss, merged with the darkness. Her figure vanished; her presence dispersed.

Iris beckoned for Lorient, who came over and crossed her arm around her mistress. She carefully escorted her mistress from the window to the table, where drinks and dessert lay neatly.

The senior members and Iris chatted for a few more minutes until Iris finally excused herself. With the blessing of her fellow senior members, she left Shivering Heart Salon through the backdoor, escorted by her most beloved Lorient.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Under inconspicuous brown cloaks, they navigated their way toward the usual café Iris loved to frequent. Along the way, Iris contemplated on the transpired events and their implications.

As discussed in the emergency meeting, the Court Founder disappeared, and the Evil Cults cooperated to strike The Court from all sides. All this happened when Iris was trapped in Cathedral of Deliverance.

Coincidences stacked atop each other, forming a mountain of implausibility, one mirroring Iris’s experience.

The intricacy of this scheme was worrying, but its mastermind worried her even more. If The Churches organised it, they would’ve already sent a True Master to annihilate The Court.

But they didn’t. Only a few cultists assaulted The Court, and they too failed to cause lasting harm.

It was as if this plan was a mere distraction.

Was she their target? But they shouldn’t need to design such a convoluted plan to capture her, not when they could prevent the Court Founder from intervening.

Iris furrowed her brows. She and Lorient left a bustling street and stepped into a tranquil lane.

The buildings, with their blinds sealed and their curtains closed, loomed over the two lone passersby. Chilly winds blew between silent alleys, gliding along the walkway, coursing between protruded stone tiles. No sight of life, no sight of danger.

Her hair stood, Lorient slowed her pace, drew her right hand to her back, where she hid her precious whip, and backed toward her mistress. Her eyes darted to the corner leading her to this street, but the busy crowds behind her were no longer there.

These vile creatures trying to take advantage of her mistress’s moment of weakness, she’d kill them all. No. Mistress’s safety came first.

She turned to her mistress. “Please allow me to—”

A finger touched her lips. She instinctively licked it. Its soft, sweet taste spilt on her tongue.

“Mistress?” She retreated, her heart skipping beats.

Iris smiled. She took a step forward, puffed herself up, and closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath. An ethereal scent tickled her nose, a familiar itch filled her lungs, a familiar name filled her mind.

“Ludmint, are you trying to scare your fiancée?” Iris said. “What if . . . I faint? My Lorient might not forgive you.”

“The blame will rest fully upon me, and I shall atone it with a tender kiss and a heartful night. Staying by your side, protecting you, assuring your lovers, such is my duty, such is my love.”

A pair of hands coming from behind wrapped around Iris. They covered her chest and drew her toward an illusory figure, whose corporeal form rapidly materialised.

Ludmint pressed her chest against Iris’s back. She dropped her head to Iris’s height, her hair falling, intertwining with Iris’s. A rustle of their clothes’ caressing each other lingered in their ears.

Iris turned to meet Ludmint’s milky silver eyes. They reflected her own calm expression, but they also revealed the unconcealable fatigue flowing beneath. She averted her eyes.

To rush to meet her halfway, Ludmint must have known that something had happened.

“The operation went well; I’ve liberated our kinds and planned seeds of choices. Will you praise me?” Iris said.

“You’re shivering, Wifey.” Ludmint glanced at Lorient, who lowered her head and pressed her hands on her chest, greeting her superior. “Lorient, you have the same initial as me. You must look after your mistress, cuddle her when she’s lonely, and offer her your love when she desires it. If you don’t, I’ll have to reeducate you.”

Iris raised her hand between Lorient and Ludmint, but she couldn’t stop her knight from lifting her head and staring at her superior.

“Lady Ludmint, Lady Iris is my mistress. Her life exists above me, within every consideration I make, and around every action I take.”

“The gleams in your eyes, they tell me everything.” Ludmint chuckled. Lorient’s lovely pupils seemed to drift unconsciously towards her mistress. Such adoration. “When I was gone, when I couldn’t reach her, you must take my place and shield her from all things unwell.”

“I shan’t disappoint you or Mistress.” Lorient turned to her mistress and, though speaking nothing, waited with sparkling eyes for a reaction, a reward.

Iris shook her head. “You may return to your sister, Lorient. I . . . would like to award you handsomely, but my lethargy prevents me from doing so.”

“Just . . . your words, your words are enough, Mistress.”

“I’ll write to you a letter of invitation. Your reward will be ample, as ample as your love for me.” Iris smiled. “And . . . you did well, Lorient. I’m . . . thankful.”

Holding her breath, Lorient drew back her brown hood. It covered her smiling face and pinkened ears, but it failed to stop her excited trembling. She whispered words of farewell and fled the scene, lest she stayed too long, and tears might overflow.

“You must’ve mixed your love potion into her drink,” Ludmint said. “Too lovely, too in love. She’s indeed your knight.”

“What are you implying, Ludmint?”

“The longer we stay by your side, the more we love you.” Ludmint nuzzled her cheek on Iris’s. “Your beloved knight, she must’ve stuck close to her mistress.”

“Do I smell jealousy?”

“I watch, embrace, and taste your sleeping beauty. I’m confident that my scent has permeated your slime. Do you think so too?”

Iris smirked. “Then this scent on you, it must be of Cilvia. It does . . . smell refreshing, exciting.”

The soft smile on Ludmint’s face stiffened. Her body heated, and her eyes brightened, enough to glimmer on Iris’s face. “Dear, it’s not what you think. We haven’t crossed the line yet; she came to me and—”

Ludmint’s agitated voice echoed in the empty street, fading as the alleys and windows murmured back her words. Why was she worried? Cilvia came to her because she received Iris’s permission!

“Iris, you’re a succubus, aren’t you?”

“I’m a Slime Girl, a slippery, lovely Slime Girl.” Iris leaned on Ludmint. Her eyelids slightly drooped. “How . . . do her lips taste?”

“We . . . haven’t gone that far. She’s shy; I’m shy. Your shyness infects us.”

“Must I also arrange your date?”

“I’d prefer you join us.”

“How could I ruin what I’ve designed just for you? My presence . . . might steal the spotlight from you, Ludmint.”

“What I did is for you, too. What we did . . . are for each other.”

As Ludmint’s words dispersed into the ghost street, she and Iris fell silent. What they did and said were for each other, always. Within that underground laboratory, they . . . hurt their hearts with their impassioned words.

Although they forgave each other, the guilt still followed them.

“I’m sorry, Ludmint,” Iris said. “Back then, I shouldn’t have insulted you for sticking to your belief.”

Iris closed her eyes and rested her weight against Ludmint. The softness of Ludmint’s body lulled her to drowsiness.

“Dear, it’s my fault,” Ludmint said. “Those words, words that hurt you, they aren’t meant to. My brother, he now lives a life of high honour, a life of authority and responsibility. I . . . just want to tell him I’m proud of him. But . . . if you insist, I can wait.”

Iris gradually relaxed, her legs weakening. “No. I’ll help you, Ludmint. I cannot deny your wish while you approve of mine. However . . . you must tell me when you’re ready . . . when you believe your plan will work.”

“With you involve, how could I leave open any point of failure?”

“Then . . . I trust you . . . Honey.” Iris’s voice dampened. Firm, unassailable security enveloped her. She was safe here, safe forever.

Ludmint carefully hugged her beloved, her heart blossoming as that one word like a melody played within her mind. She shifted her head close to her Iris but found that Iris had fallen asleep.

A kiss would disturb her, or even wake her up. That wouldn’t do!

Pursing her lips, Ludmint delicately held Iris, carried her as if she were the most beautiful princess of the world, and walked towards their home. She hummed a lullaby inaudible to all but Iris, hoping that it would give birth to a lovely dream in which their love shimmered forevermore.