“What did you tell her?” Parmin said. “What secrets could be more important than your naked flesh?”

“If I were to tell you, Parmin, would you tell me what happened between you and Lady Morbi last night?” Iris covered her mouth, but her grin still leaked through her palm. “Please forgive my imprudence, Lady Morbi. I won’t interfere with your actions.”

“You can join if you wish.” Morbi squeezed the doll whose dissimilar appearance mysteriously resembled Parmin’s. “Darling, why don’t you tell her what we did the whole night?”

Parmin inflexibly shook her head. “It’s . . . inappropriate to discuss our passion in front of Iris.”

“Is she not your lover, whom you love enough to take her to our retreat?”

“I was wrong!”

“You still are.”

Parmin could only back down; she didn’t mind Morbi’s punishment, but she mustn’t be too blatant in front of her other lover, who loomed over her shameful heart as the collateral of her blind, teasing ardour.

Before silence became deafening, a chuckle slipped out of Iris. She couldn’t stop her heart from jumping all over the place. Parmin and Morbi’s conversation amused her; their chemistry mixed and sizzled with a mellow fervour that dragged its only onlooker into its rhythm.

Sometimes, Iris found herself ashamed of her crime, the crime of inserting herself in between their affair. She shouldn’t have done it, yet her heart kept convincing her until she found herself unable to even hesitate.

The worst of all was that they didn’t mind her presence, as if she was a component of their whole, a missing part of their love.

“You don’t have to do this, Parmin,” Iris said. “You don’t have to ease my worry at the expense of your dignity.”

Parmin tilted her head, her eyes straying from Iris’s. “Why do you think that?”

“You bicker with Morbi every day, but you’d never deliberately tease her, not when I’m here. She would’ve eaten you alive.”

Morbi shook her head. “No need to worry, Dear Iris. I’ll devour her soon enough.”

Parmin downed another glass of cocktail. Her tipsy face pinkened. “I’m doing this for you, Iris. Why did you have to side with her!”

“Is that not what you want?” Iris snickered. “You want me to jest you, to forget my plight for a moment. Or did I misunderstand you?”

Those words, in a jovial tone, simmered in Parmin’s ears. She forced out an embarrassed smile, which stuck out from her playful expression. Her startled eyes glanced at her Morbi, whose serene expression hinted at a deeper delight, and then at Iris, who had recently become unreadable.

“How could I not worry when you said it like that?” Parmin said. “I very much prefer when you were fragile and confused, when you tried your hardest to appear calm. You’re too clever now, Iris.”

“Who made me this way? Who forced me to learn this manner, this way of life?”

“Ludmint, of course!”

“And you too, Parmin. Many, many times.”

“Anyway!” Parmin raised her voice, eyeing the frowning Morbi. “We’ve opened the treasury for you. Take anything you want; borrow us if you lack the credits.”

Iris let out a gasp. To open the treasury, at least half of the board or The Founder herself must approve of it.

Such an important meeting could not be organised in merely a few hours.

“There’s no need to break the rules for me,” Iris said. “I cannot rely on you all forever.”

“Yes, you can,” Morbi said. “You’ve cited the purpose of The Court multiple times, Iris. Unlike Parmin, I remember everything.”

Parmin opened her mouth but decided against derailing the conversation. Indeed, Iris lied as artificially as she smiled. Even though she had matured her charm and let go of her prior restraint, she remained stubborn, donning the mask of flirtatious modesty.

“The Court has helped me plenty, Lady Morbi. I don’t want to overstretch it.”

“You’re underestimating us, Iris. How do you think we persist under the eyes of the transcendent?”

It made no sense that The Court could survive if all it took was a single move from a Legendary. How could the Court Founder remain so active in Donhalgen without inviting a visit from one of the Legendaries?

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

What was Court of Indulgence hiding, such that it could deter a Legendary?

“Is it not our usefulness?” Iris said. “We contribute to the fragile balance between the neutral faction, the imperial faction, and the religious faction.”

“The rogue Supernatural Beings are numerous, and their presences permeate the Garcient Kingdom. However, they rarely act collectively; our destruction will not affect them.”

“Then?”

“What do you think?”

“Hazardous information that, once revealed, would undermine the legitimacy of the Orthodoxy and the imperial family?”

Dead man’s switch? Prerecorded message? Distributed secret code?

While Iris fell into meditative silence, a lady donning a dark purple dress materialised behind her. Her flowing purple hair consumed all light landing on it, and her ethereal green eyes gave off a dreamy sensation, pulling all gazes into an everlasting dream.

Iris turned around. Her eyes glittered with an intensity that dispelled all illusion. She could guess how Parmin and Morbi could open the treasury for her. Although the Court Founder herself was missing, there existed another person who represented her will.

“Long time no see, Lady Antina,” Iris said. “Please forgive my earlier discourtesy; I failed to recognise you and The Founder.”

Antina revealed a nightly smile, which darkened the lanterns around the suite. “Mother wished to conceal our identities. You, Lady Iris, figured out her trick.”

“My luck has aided me well.”

“Luck alone cannot take you this far.”

“My sharp intuition, combined with my fortune, is what averts me from perils.”

“At least acknowledge your perseverance, Lady Iris. You walked in and out of Cathedral of Deliverance unharmed. You resisted the gaze of—”

“Those incidents frighten me, Antina. I’d prefer not to discuss them, not now.”

Antina looked at the confused Parmin and Morbi, who had never heard of these matters. Without Antina’s disclosure, Iris might never bring them up. No one except her, The Founder, and Antina would know them.

She needed to share her secrets, even if it could worry her dearest.

“Is there anything you wish to know?” Antina said. “Before Mother went to Donhalgen Beast Museum, she told me to join you in case of her disappearance.”

“Not even you could contact her?”

“The Museum’s older than Donhalgen itself. Although I can’t confirm it, fragmented records say that it’s an ancient prison for long-extinct Mythical Creatures.”

“Yet it’s now merely a tourist attraction?”

“A mortal, no matter how powerful, can never glimpse into the epic scope of ruin from an unknown past. Without the key, not even a True Master would be able to enter its inner area.”

“Does the key . . . belong to Suppression Sect?”

Antina nodded. “For this operation, Mother cooperated with its leader and also invites her . . . old friend.”

“Delicate Snow?” Iris touched her lips. “What is The Founder’s relationship with Delicate Snow?”

Antina lowered her head and clasped her pinkened cheeks. Her tranquil disposition stirred as passionate air swirled within her long-sleeve cloak. As a part of her mother, she inherited feelings and memories of those wonderful, terrific, forbidden moments.

She let out a soft moan, which lingered for too long. Her blissful smile gradually sank back into her ocean of stillness.

“I . . . can’t answer that, Lady Iris. You must ask Mother herself. I . . . my heart can’t handle it.”

Iris didn’t mean it in that sense, but when she glanced at Parmin, whose entertained eyes endlessly teased her, she decided not to excuse herself.

“How can I help them?”

“Mother isn’t in any danger. She will eventually return.”

“Then why did she tell you to join me.”

“Because you’re in danger.” Antina guided Iris to a sofa and sat beside her. “I’ve already leaked a secret of yours. It would be too impolite if I leak another.”

Iris stared into Antina’s eyes before turning to look at Parmin and Morbi. Their determined expressions pierced through her guilt-ridden heart. She shouldn’t have hidden this from them, not when she wished to ask for their help.

“Have you heard of Nupian, Scourge of the Northern Snow, Seductress of White Night?” Iris touched the back of her left hand, where the Mark of Love should exist. “I came to this place, albeit coincidentally, to escape her.”

“Nupian of the Northern Continent?” Parmin said. “How did you meet her when you come from the Central Continent.”

“Our meeting isn’t coincidental. I’ve always been her target.”

“Is she coming for your Shadow Heart Core?” Morbi said.

After taking a deep breath and drinking a glass of tequila, Iris gradually explained her story prior to her arrival in Donhalgen. Her life, starting from that damp, cosy cave, unfolded from her lips, weaved by colourful words, misleading words, deceptive words.

Though continuous, her story hid from everyone the taboos regarding the transcendent, her Fateless quality, and her otherworldly origin. Telling them these would only frighten them; they could not help her, and she could not assure them.

“You escaped from Nupian, even though you only then reached Transformation Phase?” Parmin said. “How did you do it?”

“I’m too fragile and would disintegrate from her mere touch.”

“Then, how did you come here?”

“Although she failed to capture me, she succeeded in disrupting the teleportation. I was flung eastwards. If not for Ludmint, I wouldn’t get to return to Main Material Plane.”

“Fascinating story, Dear Iris.” Morbi tapped her fingers on the table, mulling over what she just heard. “What, then, should we do? You’ve already refused our offer to send you away.”

“She’ll eventually find me. What I need isn’t an escape route, but a platform for our confrontation.” Iris clenched her hand. Her eyes dimmed until their shade became darker than black. “I need to become stronger. I need to find the power to resist her. I need to get my hand on treasures that could fend off her.”

Antina leaned on Iris. Her hair gently stroked Iris’s cheek. “The treasury is open for you, Lady Iris. Mother has already prepared a few Artefacts that could aid you.”

“What must I pay?”

“You’ve already paid too much.”

Iris’s mood faltered. She tilted her head up and stared at the ceiling, staring through it. Somewhere far away was her family, her friends, her lovers, and her home. This separation had almost erased from her mind their vivid touches, even though she reminded herself of them every day.

Fortunately, they had other hers, other Irises to cure their sorrow, to tease their appearances, to brighten their spirits. They would never feel the longing she felt; that was enough.

But why did she feel discontented?

She couldn’t find the answer, or maybe she refused to find it.

“When the time comes, I’ll repay everything,” Iris said. “This Shadow Heart Core must be enough for me to use the treasury, right?”

“Enough for you to become the second Court Founder.”

“Such a position is too grand for a wandering Slime Girl like me.” Iris smiled. “I . . . am not worthy.”