A triumphant grin envelops my lips.
Victory.
She’s wearing the pink nightgown tonight.
Ayame then glances at the table where I put the collar down and picks it up. My petite samurai examines it for a bit, turning it around in her hand. “It’s a very big improvement. I will definitely feel much better about wearing this around my neck. Thank you for this as well, Quinlan.”
I nod with a smile. I didn’t expect her to start hyperventilating like Blossom from this gift. After all, a slave collar is a slave collar at the end of the day, no matter how pretty, elegant or comfortable.
Blossom is more than happy with her current social status as long as I remain her master, while Ayame would more than likely prefer to be a free person.
“Blossom was so hungry but now she wants to go to get her collar changed!” My dog-girl voices her troubles.
“I think it would be smarter to eat first, the food will go cold otherwise. The collars aren’t going anywhere, and the slavers will be there long into the night.” Aurora informs her of the situation with warm patience like a good teacher would.
“Ah! True!” Blossom nods sagely like she’d made a big scientific discovery.
We get seated and I raise my wine glass that is already filled. “Then, without further ado, let us toast to our continued success, good fortune, great memories, victories over our enemies and fruitful encounters with our future allies. Cheers!”
All five ladies follow my example and raise their assigned glasses, then we all clink them together at the same time. “”Cheers!”” They shout energetically.
After we are seated the feast finally begins in earnest.
Before tragedy strikes, however, I quickly stand up and walk to Aurora, then lean in to her ear and whisper; “please watch for Blossom’s sugar consumption in my stead, my attention might get occupied by Lucille. Only a small dessert portion is allowed and only after she had her fill of healthy servings.”
She accepts happily; “sure.”
I had learned my lesson from the meal we shared at Broderick’s mansion regarding my dog-kin’s sweet tooth and complete ignorance regarding the term ‘calorie’. If she sees something that looks tasty, she would eat it, no matter how healthy or unhealthy. Unless, of course, she could smell poison in it or something.
Two groups form rather quickly, the first one consisting of Mavena, Aurora and Blossom, the three ladies who are seated the farthest from me.
They speak of topics one might expect of girls their age, though I soon seem to become the main discussion point, as the two human women are interrogating Blossom with more and more embarrassing questions regarding our private time, both how it is to be in the bedroom with me, and just being in a relationship with me generally, all of which she answers happily and without an ounce of shame nor filter.
Mavena, who had a good glimpse at our ‘bed duel’ in person, seems to be incredibly flustered, evidenced by her tomato red face and eyes that are often found hiding behind her hands.
Aurora, the main interrogator, is much less embarrassed by what she hears. She is faced with a big decision regarding the nature of our relationship, so she is in her serious researcher mode, trying to pry as much information as she can to have a good idea about what being my woman would look like.
Good. I want her to make an informed decision. There will be no take backs later.
The second group consists of me, Ayame, and Lucille.
We’ve chatted about her life in Braedon, which is basically a criminal-run city, and just as I’ve experienced thus far, she also confirmed that order is present in the settlement. Break-ins, murders, abductions, rape etc. are pretty rare, because people fear the relentless enforcers of the Vesper Consortium.
They are absolutely merciless, and surprisingly, they supposedly can’t be bribed, unlike the kingdom’s guards.
I find it quite strange. My logic dictates that it should be the other way around. Well, maybe they are getting way too highly compensated to risk accepting petty bribes, or they are under some magical oaths, or something along these lines.
“So, I’ve heard that things aren’t going too well with your husband.” I finally breach the topic of why she’s here in the first place. “I would like to speak with you for a bit, will you entertain this rude intrusion of mine into your private life?”
Lucille’s eyes flutter wide open for a moment before calming down. She then sighs dejectedly, “yes, of course. My daughter had already informed me that you would like to say some things to me, so I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to hear you out.”
“Great. I’ll be brief, I promise. It’s not my place to tell you how to live your life, or who to spend your precious years with, but I wanted to make sure you understand that comparing most men to me will end up being futile. I might not yet be the strongest man in the world, but in physical aspects I don’t think many can match me. I know it sounds incredibly arrogant, but that’s just how it is.
If you are going to ask for a divorce because you no longer wish to be with him, then so be it. That’s entirely your choice to make. However, if your hopes are that you will easily find another man like me I recommend you dwell on the topic for a bit longer before making a hasty decision.”
Lucille puts her utensils down and remains quiet for a while, visibly deep in thought. After a short few seconds she speaks up; “Your presence and seeing how happy your ladies are was just the final nail in the coffin, not the cause at all. I’m honestly just so damn tired of him and our situation.
I know it’s horrible of me to say, but when I married him I was an open-minded, happy-go-lucky, wide-eyed girl. I thought the fact that he is a scaredy cat and a weak individual would be something I can easily ignore. But nowadays, especially ever since Mavena grew up into a beautiful young lady, I can’t help but wonder more and more often what would happen if someone had wanted to exploit us?
We are three level 1 civilians running an inn, and yes, Braedon is a relatively safe place but not heaven itself. Let me put it this way; if a man who is not even a tenth of your strength were to get the idea of assaulting me and my daughter, what do you think Robert would do?”
I grimace. “I would like to say that he would rush to your rescue but…”
She lets a mocking giggle leave her lips before finishing my sentence. “He will piss and shit himself, stutter and cry like a retard, and not even manage to beg our imaginary rapist to stop.
At most he would rush out of the building and perhaps try to ask for help if we are really fortunate, but most likely he would just faint on the spot after having a nervous breakdown, leaving the two of us to our miserable fate until another visitor finds our corpses…”
‘Oh dear.’