The story of the Elf Queen

* * *

"Master?"

The voice of the maid standing in the doorway brought Gion out of his deep thoughts. He turned to look at the young and pretty girl, with a nice figure and thick blond hair down to her shoulder blades, and stared at her for a few seconds, remembering why he had called her. The dear trading partners were doing their best to make it up to him, his father, and his grandfather for not keeping their dear guest safe. They had given him the best quarters they had left, which had not been damaged during the raid. They also provided him with some well-trained young maids for his use. Very pretty maids. Gion had chosen one to his liking, and politely declined the others, much to their annoyance.

And it was a good choice. Hannah turned out to be a nearly perfect maid. She understood all his orders with half a word, immediately rushing to fulfill them, stayed out of his way when she didn't have to, and was more than good in bed. Sewn by a skillful tailor from expensive fabrics black and white house dress perfectly emphasized large high breasts and slender waist of the girl. Since the first day, however, it had been hanging neatly in a corner of the bedchamber most of the time, and Hannah wore only a white nightgown that barely reached the middle of her thighs. It was a blatant disgrace and lewdness but Gion didn't care about it. First, the outfit allowed him to fully appreciate the girl's slender and long legs, which would have been hidden by the skirt of the dress. Secondly, it was much easier and quicker to bend the maid in such an outfit any time he felt the urge to release the tension he had accumulated over the past weeks. And Gion had a lot of it. He glanced at the girl, who was humbly standing on the doorstep, and remembered why he had summoned her and gave her a short order:

"Prepare the bath."

"Just a moment, sir."

Hannah bowed gracefully and left, swaying her hips barely covered by her thin nightgown seductively. When the office door closed behind her, Gion smiled faintly. Good girl. He should think about taking her for himself since he'd have to reassemble his retinue anyway. At the memory of the servants who had died during the raid of the bloody islanders, the mood immediately soured again. The young man turned to the desk, on which were neatly laid out numerous sheets of paper, several scrolls certified by magical seals, a binding amulet, and a single crystal with images imprinted in it, glowing dimly. Very unpleasant images.

The journey of the dwarves' amazing ship through the Deep Sea ended quite safely. The bearded sailors took them to some coastal fortress of their own. It was even better fortified than the ones First had led them past. By the way, he was not on the ship at that moment, which was a bit disappointing. He would like to say goodbye to him in person and thank him if possible. Gion did not like to be in debt to anyone. There were a few more elves from the emissaries of the Forest waiting for them in the bearded men's fortress. As well as a portal leading to one of the settlements of the firstborn. Everything had been prepared for the arrival of the rescued captives, and Gion was able to sleep and rest for the first time since the kidnapping. He had also washed himself thoroughly once more, eradicating the last traces of the odor suppressor.

The next morning, as soon as he was dressed in the immaculate black and white suit with the embroidered insignia of the House of Faral, one of the local human elf servants came to ask him politely to follow him. Gion was taken to a sumptuously furnished office, as luxurious as his grandfather's workplace. There the young man was met by an elf dressed as an emissary of the Forest. After a polite greeting, he invited Gion to sit at the table:

"Greetings, honorable Gion. Please, have a seat. My name is Zaandal, I'm the High Emissary's special assistant. Would you like something to drink or eat?"

"Thank you, honorable Zaandal, I just had breakfast and I'm not hungry."

"As you wish. Well, let's get right to the point. I have a few things I need to discuss with you."

Seated in the chair opposite Forest's diplomat, the young man subtly bowed his head:

"I see. Do you wish to discuss the fee for my rescue?"

A barely noticeable smile touched the elf’s lips:

"Not only and not so much. For the most part, this matter has been negotiated and settled with your father. I'd like to discuss another matter first. The fact is that in the course of your rescue from the Islands, you were an unwitting witness to something you should not see or know."

"You mean First?"

"Including him, the honorable Gion. But first and foremost, it's about our agents on the Islands. We have very few of them, and each one is worth his weight in gold. As you understand, the Forest cannot allow even the slightest risk of discrediting them."

"I see... Are you asking me to take an oath on the altar of Damokar?"

The elven diplomat shook his head faintly:

"We would prefer a voluntary sacrifice of some of the memories. It is much more reliable because, with a lot of desire, backed by the appropriate power, the will of the Oath Keeper can still be overcome. It is much more difficult to return a memory given voluntarily."

There was silence in the office. Gion, trying to give his face as indifferent an expression as possible began to think feverishly. He did not want to let anyone into his mind. Especially such skillful masters as elven spellcasters were. Despite any guarantees and oaths. But he also realized that the elves really couldn't just leave him the memory of the events in Kuordemar. With all possible firmness and calmness in his voice, the young man said slowly:

"Honorable Zaandal, is your suggested method the only option?"

The elf diplomat's lips touched again with a barely perceptible smile:

"Of course not, honorable Gion. It is only the most preferable and convenient option, with minimal hassle for both parties."

"And what are the other options, honorable Zaandal?"

"There are several. Including the one you mentioned, taking the appropriate oath on the altar of Damokar, reinforced by magical seals."

"And what is required for this option?"

The smile on the elven diplomat’s face became a little wider:

"Your House doesn't have a presence in Morgrave, does it?"

Gion shook his head negatively:

"No, we have trading partners there I was visiting when the islanders raided."

"Now Morgrave has suffered greatly, part of the city has been plundered and part destroyed. This is a great tragedy for its inhabitants and the honorable Duke Augustus. But such tragedies are not only grief and suffering for the survivors. They are also always great opportunities for those who can take advantage of them."

"Are you suggesting I ask my father to open a branch of the House of Faral in Morgrave?"

"Not exactly. I propose you open a trade representative office of House Faral in Morgrave and head it as an authorized representative."

Upon hearing this, Gion raised his eyebrows in surprise and shook his head:

"I have no such right, honorable Zaandal...."

"Your father has it. And if you fully describe all the benefits and prospects, he will surely give his consent. And your honorable grandfather will support it."

Right. For a few seconds, Gion considered what he had heard. Then he spoke in an extremely polite voice, choosing his words carefully:

"This is a very interesting and unexpected proposal. Tell me, honorable Zaandal, are you talking about any specific benefits?"

An opportunity to occupy vacated spaces, to gain direct access to goods coming down the Dantra from the East, as well as access to goods from the Forest. Morgrave is our western sea gate. Quite an obvious benefit.

"I will not deny it, honorable Zaandal, it is a very interesting proposal, and I am almost certain that my father will give his consent. But let me ask you, what is your profit?"

There is no benefit to me, honorable Gion. But the benefit to the Forest is also quite obvious. Your House has extensive ties and influence on the western shores of the Middle Sea, as well as in lands further north. Just the places where the Forest's influence is minimal, following the loss of our colony during the war with the Island Empire. And in that regard, it would do us good to have a Forest-friendly man at the head of House Faral.

This was where Gion allowed himself a faint smile:

"I'm a long way from that, honorable Zaandal."

"From your point of view, quite possibly. But elves have a different attitude to the passage of time, honorable Gion. Sometimes it seems as if you have just closed your eyes, just for a moment, and the world beyond the borders of the Forest has changed beyond recognition. That's why we try to prepare for such changes in advance. As much as possible."

"Hm..."

Having carefully looked the elf in the eyes, Gion leaned forward and said extremely politely:

"You have described the benefit to the Forest and my House very well, honorable Zaandahl. But how does it benefit me personally? So far, I see only new troubles and problems. I doubt that our Morgrave trading partners will be happy to learn that House Faral is opening a representative office in their city. They'll be turned from partners into competitors. It is much safer and more profitable for me to go back home to my father and help him in his business."

The elven diplomat said in an equally polite voice:

"Of course, there will be difficulties, honorable Gion. But I can guarantee you a certain amount of support from the Forest in solving various problems. Again, it's much easier for a full-fledged head of representation to take the place of the head of the House than for one of the children of one of the heads of representation. And personally, I will add that friendship with elves is never unnecessary."

Leaning back in his chair, Gion arched his right eyebrow in a practiced motion:

"Have we become friends, honorable Zaandal?"

"Oh, really, how could I forget? Let me fix it."

Opening a drawer of his desk, the elf took out a small glowing crystal, with images imprinted in it, and held it out to Gion:

"Here you go. You may consider it a gratuitous gift as a token of the Forest's friendly intentions."

The young man stared at the outstretched crystal for a second. Then he took it carefully and closed his eyes, concentrating on the images hidden inside. People he knew very well immediately appeared in his mind. His father and mother, who looked even more gloomy and disgruntled than usual, were discussing with tense faces the possibility of his rescue with some elf dressed as emissaries of the Forest. The final sum for this service made him grab his hair at the realization of what it could cost him and his parents. Since his father simply didn't have that kind of money. At best, a third of the requested amount would be enough.

The next image also depicted his parents, but they were coming out of a squat and very massive stone building, built according to all the canons of dwarven architecture. A very familiar building to Gion in his hometown. It housed the official representation of the Undermountin. Including the office of its treasury. Realizing where his father had gotten the missing money to save him made him want to howl. The islanders would probably have asked for less! Well, at least a little less.

In the last, third image, the dearest relatives were pictured in the market square of their hometown with extremely satisfied faces. Two relatives and one cousin of my father were asking the extremely gloomy parent, for what and at what interest rate he took a loan from the bearded men. And most importantly, on the security of what? Who would have doubted it, you bloody vultures!

When the crystal faded and the images in his mind disappeared, Gion found that he had squeezed the artifact almost to the point of bleeding. Slowly exhaling, he carefully placed it on the table in front of the elven diplomat and with a huge effort forced himself to unclench his fingers. Then, in an extremely neutral voice, he said:

"Interesting gifts for your friends, honorable Zaandal."

The elf diplomat's face remained still as suave and polite:

"As they say in your Confederacy, information is the most precious of commodities. This information was given to you for free, honorable Gion. And lest you think I'm trying to mislead you, please read it."

The elf carefully took out a scroll from the same drawer, sealed with an enchanted seal, and unfolded it in front of the young man. On the expensive paper with the coat of arms of Undermountin was written in chiseled letters of the dwarven alphabet a certified copy of a contract of borrowing money from the treasury of Undermountin. The borrowers were listed as the parents, and the collateral was listed as the father's share of the property and other assets he owned in their family business. Gion recognized his parents' signatures and seals at a glance. Realizing how much his father and mother appreciated his life made him experience a very rare feeling of warmth towards them. At the same time, it made him want to tear his hair out and bang his forehead on the table. The elf watching Gion waited for him to read the contract before pulling out another scroll with an unchanged expression.

"And as I have said before, honorable Gion, friendship with elves is never unnecessary. Please."

Zaandal opened its seal and carefully unfolded it before the young man, who tried his best not to show emotion. The second document was written on snow-white paper with the Forest's coat of arms in neat calligraphic handwriting. It said that the Forest would consider the debt for the rescue of Gion de Faral from the captivity of the Island Kingdom fully paid, provided that the Faral Trading House opened a representative office in the Free City of Morgrave. Next came the details and various options for a trade agreement between the elves and House Faral. After waiting for Gion to read the document, Zaandal asked:

"What say you, honorable Gion?"

Taking the scroll with the elves' proposal in his hands, the young man leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable, and, carefully reading the lines of the contract, asked:

"Does your offer of a drink and a snack still stand, honorable Zaandal?"

The elven diplomat nodded faintly:

"More than that, honorable Gion."

"In that case, I accept it. Since we have quite a lot to discuss..."

Gion didn't return to the elves' quarters that day until evening, more exhausted than he'd ever been in his life. He would have said before he'd walked halfway across half of the Underworld on his own two feet. Well, at least that distance felt like half of the Underworld. He had helped his father in business more than once and had even had some meetings and negotiations with trading partners. He had even signed contracts on his father's behalf on two occasions. But that was nothing compared to today's meeting.

When most of the issues of the future trade agreement had been resolved, and a rough draft of the treaty with the Forest had been drawn up, Zaandal led him to the small shrine of Damokar, where Gion took a very detailed and very specific oath on the altar not to divulge what he had seen during the rescue. Only after this procedure was he escorted to his assigned quarters, where he immediately collapsed to sleep. The next day, early in the morning, immediately after breakfast, he was taken by direct portal to Morgrave. There he was handed over to a dozen men from his father's personal squad of blades, led by the first assistant commander. Along with them were several household servants. In the vicinity of all of them, Gion's arrival was awaited by some nervous Morgrave trading partners, who vouched for the safety of their dear guest to his father.

Then he had to wait for all the possible excitement about his successful return, and also to wait for the eternally young rescuers to confirm that they had done nothing wrong to the rescued man, had not influenced his mind in any way, and so on, so on, so on. When the formalities were finally settled, Gion politely declined the deputy commander of his father's blades' offer to return home immediately. Instead, Gion accepted the offer of the offending partners to stay and rest at their place. At their expense, of course. The deputy commander did not challenge the young man's decision but said his father and mother wanted to talk to him as soon as possible. Gion understood their intentions perfectly well and contacted his parents as soon as they were placed. After the guards had thoroughly checked the rooms, installed additional security, checked the maids provided, and looked around again.

The conversation with his father and mother with the help of a very good communication amulet was very difficult and long. When his father, who had aged several years in the past weeks, had heard about the elves' offer, he gloomed. No, he was more than happy to know he would not have to pay the firstborn huge sums of money. But as he told his son and heir, “Services are not for money always cost the most.” His father did not challenge Gion's decision. Instead, he wished him to be strong, to represent House Faral with honor, and to remain extremely vigilant, especially with the elves. At the same time, they agreed on the number of people and the amount of money his parents could allocate for the opening of the new branch and other small things.

Since that conversation, Gion had spent several days in his quarters, almost never leaving them. Everyone around him thought that the representative of the main branch of a rich and respected trading house had decided to rest and unwind after the kidnapping. To restore his mental health in the company of a pretty maid, or maybe in some other way. That's partly what happened. But in between meals and various bed comforts, Gion closed himself in his study and worked hard. And he had plenty of work to do because opening a full-fledged office is not like opening a shop in a market or a bazaar. It is a hard labor, requiring to take into account a huge number of factors. You have to find a place, agree with the council or the city's ruler, agree with the night rulers or the city's ruler, understand what goods are profitable to sell here, and what you need to buy. And a lot of other things.

Part of what made it easier was that Zaandal had given him detailed information about what was going on in Morgrave after the raid and what the city needed. It made some of the calculations much easier. Still, there was a lot of work to be done. What was sorely lacking was at least a couple of assistants, like his father. Gion didn't have any, though there were some promising servants. The key word was “available,” island scum be damned! Now the retinue must be assembled from scratch and in short order. His father will send someone, but that won't solve the problem completely. Maybe we could buy some from the local slave market. But that would be expensive and training would still take time. And a slave already trained costs a lot of money. And they'd have to be vetted.

Gion exhaled, shaking his head to ward off his thoughts and set aside the papers on the table in front of him. Okay, that was enough for today. He would do the rest tomorrow. The real work would begin when the credentials from his grandfather, the amulet seal, and other documents arrived. He carefully removed all the papers and amulets from the table into a small box of enchanted and polished dark wood, carefully closed it, and put it away in a drawer of the table. He closed it and activated the protective weave. Looking around the office once more and ensuring he hadn't forgotten anything, Gion locked it, activated the protection, and attached an additional signal amulet to the door. As the journey with First had shown, precautions were not unnecessary.

When he had finished setting up the defenses, Gion headed for the restroom, undressing as he went. Hannah had already filled the heavy bronze tub with hot water and added some aromatic salts and herbs, having memorized her master's preferences on the first day. Dropping the last of his clothes, the young man climbed in, blissfully closing his eyes. The maid, frozen at the edge, asked coquettishly:

"Shall I rub your back, sir?"

Without opening his eyes, Gion reached out with his left hand and slid his palm under her shirt, squeezing the firm buttock.

"And not just this. Take off your shirt, you don't need it."

The blushing maid giggled playfully and in one motion pulled her white nightgown over her head, leaving her completely naked, and tossed it on a chair against the wall. She took a jug of warm water from the small table by the bathing room poured it over Gion's head and began to soap his hair. The young man, who was squirming with pleasure, kept stroking the maid's lower back with the palm of her hand, squeezing it occasionally, to Hannah's playful laughter. When the maid had finished with his head, she rinsed him and took up the washcloth. Without opening his eyes, Gion threw his left leg over the side of the tub. When the maid leaned over and began to rub it, he slid his palm between her legs, eliciting another playful laugh. When the bathing was over, the refreshed and invigorated young man ordered briefly:

"Come in."

With a satisfied smile, and flushed as much as Gion himself, the girl gladly obeyed the order. She slipped her slender leg over the edge carefully climbed in and lowered herself into the hot water. Gion immediately drew her back to him and held her tightly, wrapping both arms around her. He used one hand to knead Hannah's firm breasts, the other to stroke the smooth skin of her flat tummy, and then slid between her legs. The girl, who had learned his preferences in bed, smiled contentedly and purred as his hands slid down her body. Tilting her head back, she gave Gion her neck, where he immediately left another hickey. Good girl. Nice, skillful, obedient. Should he really take her for himself? Hmm... Squeezing the hardened nipple on her right breast between his thumb and forefinger, Gion twisted it slightly and asked:

"What's your contract with the masters?"

Blinking in surprise, Hannah turned to him and replied uncertainly:

"I was sold to them as a little girl by my parents. Mrs. Arfena raised me and taught me to be a good maid....."

"I see."

Stopping teasing Hannah's pussy, Gion pulled his hand out of the water, with the artifact ring worn on his index finger, and snapped his fingers. His personal connection amulet flew out of the pile of clothing and landed precisely on his open palm. Squeezing it, Gion focused on the image of the master of the house. A moment later, the man answered:

Honorable Gion, what can I do for you?

I'm very fond of your maid Hannah. I'm buying her. Have the bill ready.

Oh... Well, what are you saying, honorable Gion! Consider her yours, it's the least I can do for you and...

Very well. I expect the gift paper with all the seals by tomorrow morning. I thank you for your generosity and wish you a good night.

Turning off the amulet, Gion tossed it back on the pile of clothes and turned to the maid, whose breasts he continued to stroke and squeeze with his free hand:

"Your master has just graciously gifted you to me, sweetheart. First, remember two things. From this day forward, you are my personal maid and you will serve me, and me alone. No one touches you without my permission. And you will not take orders from anyone but me or anyone I tell you to. Do you understand?"

The stunned girl stared at him for a few seconds with her gray eyes and mouth open. Then she came to her senses and nodded hastily:

"Yes, Master, I understood everything! I swear I won't disappoint you!"

"I sure hope so."

Squeezing her tits a little harder, Gion smiled contentedly and ordered:

"Stand up and lean on the other edge."

Hannah slipped out of his embrace with a mischievous smile, rose to her feet, and helped her new master up. Then she turned and leaned her arms on the edge of the tub, arching her back and spreading her legs wide. Tucking her wet hair behind her back, the maid swayed her hips playfully. Gion wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed himself against her, running the head of his cock over her slit a few times. Then he slowly entered her, eliciting a very natural and satisfied moan. He enjoyed the moist tightness and heat of her pussy for a few seconds, then ran his palms along the maid's body. Hannah's skin was smooth and very pleasant to the touch. When he reached her breasts, he gave them a firm squeeze, eliciting another satisfied moan. Nice tits, her masters must have enlarged them with alchemy, but the result was excellent! He grasped her waist tightly and began to move slowly, ignoring the water splashing over the edge of the bath.

Soon the bathroom was filled with loud female moans and the splashing of water. Gritting his teeth, the young man gradually increased his pace, sensing his impending release. After a few minutes, Gion finished, pouring into Hannah to her particularly loud moan. By this point, the entire restroom floor was flooded with water. Exhaling, the young man piled on top of the girl and took a minute to regain his breath, pressing himself against her back. Breathing out, he left another hickey on her neck and slapped the maid's buttock. Gion then rinsed himself once more with her before climbing out of the bathing area. Quickly drying his hair with a special amulet, he made his way to the bedroom, collapsing onto the clean sheets. He didn't put on his nightgown, remaining naked. A few minutes later, Hannah crawled under the covers, having had time to clean herself up quickly and rub herself with floral-scented oils. Burying his palm in her hair and pulling her close to him, Gion fell fast asleep. There was still a lot of work ahead of him. But he deserved a little rest after what he'd been through.

* * *

Knocking on the tall, dark wood doors covered with rich carvings of powerful protective runes, Kiara froze in anticipation. After a few seconds, the doors opened without a single creak, and the spellcaster stepped inside the spacious and richly furnished study.

"Master Zeiran, I, uh..."

When she saw the guest of the head of the Morgrave branch of the Adventurer's Guild, she froze and opened her eyes in surprise. After a moment, Kiara regained her composure and bowed deeply:

"Good day to you, honorable Duchess."

The charming elf with her thick black hair, which fell down her back in a luxurious waterfall, bowed her head slightly in response. The wife of the Duc de Mont Ros was dressed in a burgundy dress of expensive fabric, embroidered with gold and a large neckline that allowed to see a part of her not small breasts. She sat in a chair to the right of Master Zeiran, holding a porcelain saucer and a cup from a genuine elven set she had given her. In front of her on the table was an elaborate teapot and a plate of candied fruit from the South. The head of the Morgrave Adventurer's Guild, a stout man of age who was one of the three holders of the confirmed golden rank, made an inviting gesture with his hand:

"Come in, Kiara, and have a seat."

The spellcaster took the empty seat to the left of her superior. As soon as she was seated, the office doors closed and there was a low humming sound as the defenses went into full blast. As soon as it happened, the duchess put a saucer and a cup on the table and politely inquired:

"How are you feeling, honorable Kiara? You've been through a lot in the past few days."

"Thank you, honorable Duchess, I'm quite all right now. Of course, the journey through the Underworld was not easy, but I've been on difficult journeys before."

A faint smile touched the elf's lips.

"I'm very glad to hear that. I hope your apprentices have recovered by now, too?"

"Quite, a couple more days and they would be fully recovered. Still, it was their first really serious experience."

"That's fine. In that case, you and I can get down to business."

Kiara cast a glance at Master Zeiran and received an almost imperceptible nod in return.

"As you understand, Honorable Kiara, your rescue from the captivity of the islanders was a very difficult and extremely expensive matter... By the way, how did you get into their hands in the first place?"

Wrinkling her face as if from a toothache, the spellcaster reluctantly said:

"I was celebrating the closing of a successful contract with my apprentices and squadmates. The party was so good that no one even noticed the start of the raid."

The fact that she hadn't noticed it at all, because she'd been having sex in a separate room with sound-dampening protection, she preferred not to mention. And about the fact that she, who was slightly tipsy had been torn from her lover by the hair and twisted up in her birth suit.

"It must have been quite a good party if none of your squad paid attention to the signaling amulets. Which, as I know, all adventurers of silver rank and above are synchronized with the city's bells."

Kiara felt her cheeks and ears burning, but only nodded her head in response:

"It is true, Honorable Duchess, but to celebrate a successful contract for an adventurer is sacred. A tradition, one might even say a ritual."

"I see. In any case, as I said, your rescue was extremely costly and expensive, honorable Kiara."

Licking her lips, the spellcaster, trying to speak calmly, replied:

"I know I've already been informed of this by your kin who brought us to Morgrave. When they and I discussed some of the details of my rescue."

"In that case, I'd like to discuss payment options with you. As far as I know, you don't have that kind of money. It's unlikely you'll borrow it from someone else, and the interest for such a sum would be enormous. Of course, considering your rank and merit, the guild can take care of the debt."

In her mind, Kiara groaned. Given the amount of money her rescuers had told her, it would take ten years to pay it off, at least. Maybe seven years, if the contracts were good. From which she would receive until the debt was paid off, a quarter at best. Though the guild usually took no more than a third of the adventurer's bounty. In her case, only a fifth. That meant she'd have to cut back a lot on expenses, change her housing, and practically forget about her personal practice. Maybe she'd be able to pay it all off in five years, if she also started doing magic part-time privately, as long as she had a license...

"But I can offer you, honorable Kiara, another option, if you are interested, per se."

Well, that was to be expected, too. An offer she was unlikely to refuse.

"I'm listening attentively, honorable duchess."

"Soon my dear Mariana will have to leave me for Normgrave, to the court of the honorable Duke of Darmond, to whose son and heir she is engaged. Of course, I cannot let my daughter go so far away alone. She will be accompanied by many servants and nursemaids, that goes without saying. But I'd feel much safer if she had someone with her who could protect her in case of trouble. Of course, I don't think anyone at the court of the honorable Duke of Darmond would harm her, but recent events have shown that caution is not unreasonable."

Taking another sip of tea, the Duchess carefully set the mug back down and continued:

"Therefore, I offer you and both of your apprentices a long-term extended contract, honorable Kiara. Ten years, at the standard adventurer's guild rates, minus a third of the sum. If you accept it, at the end of the contract, the Forest will consider your debt paid. What do you say?"

After glancing over to Master Zeiran and receiving an affirmative nod in return, Kiara turned to the Duchess and replied:

"Of course, I agree, honorable Duchess."

A barely noticeable smile touched the elf’s lips again:

"I'm glad to hear it. In that case, let's go through the paperwork. Master Zeiran, please."

The guild leader placed two pre-prepared copies of the contract on the table in front of him certified by magical seals, and on Damokar's altar. Taking one of them, Kiara began to scrutinize it...

The signing of the agreement, taking into account all the details of the future contract, dragged on for more than an hour. When Kiara finally said goodbye to the Duchess and returned to her apartment, the sun had already begun to sink into the horizon. The apartment building in the Upper City, where she rented the entire top floor of the entire place, had been almost unscathed during the raid, save for the soot and a couple of broken panes in the windows. Her possessions were also untouched, thanks to the good defense and the guildmates who had taken care of it in time. After waving off the servants at the entrance, the spellcaster ordered her not to be disturbed and went upstairs.

As soon as the doors to her floor closed behind her and the defenses activated, she allowed herself a doomed groan. Ten years. Ten years! For only two-thirds of the average guild rate for silver-ranked adventurers, with the guild's share deducted from it! No, it's much better than having to pay off the entire debt. And much better than being collared in the slave market of Kuordemar and then on the bed of one of the rich men there. Probably a gifted one, too. And bear him one child after another. Or to one of his children or other relatives. But ten years! And in Normgrave! At Kiara's doomed groan, Ronan came running out of his room, wearing only house pants and a nightgown:

"Mentor? Something happened?"

With a tired nod, the spellcaster gestured for her apprentice to follow her. When she entered the bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed and closed the door with a snap of her fingers, activating the defenses. Including the one that cut off the sounds that had played such a cruel joke on her not so long ago. Ronan, realizing this, immediately began to remove her shoes and guild uniform. Kiara looked up at the ceiling and said in a tired voice:

"We have to move, Ronan."

The student, frozen with a boot in his hand, raised his eyebrows questioningly:

"Because of the new contract? Far?"

"Yes. To Normgrave, for ten years, as..."

By the time she finished telling her apprentice about the contract she had made, he had managed to undress his mentor completely and was hanging his clothes neatly in the closet.

"I guess it didn't end so bad..."

With a gesture that interrupted his words, the enchantress silently pointed to the bed beside her. Ronan immediately undressed himself and lay down on his back. Kiara slowly rose to her feet and lowered herself onto her ready-to-go apprentice and lover. Settling on top of him, she fixed her red hair and began to slowly move her hips. The problems of the upcoming contract would wait until tomorrow. For now, she could rest and relax for a while.

She closed her eyes and placed her palms over the palms of the apprentice who held her by the waist. Concentrating, she pressed them together and began to merge with him, merging their subtle bodies into a united contour. Ronan, exhaling, moved toward her with all his might. Normally, such a move would have required both of them to be very skilled. But in the case of Kiara and her apprentice, it was not necessary because of their very high compatibility. In fact, she had chosen him to be her apprentice among other candidates because of this trait. They could literally exchange energy directly with minimal effort maintaining each other's strength. Very useful in combat. And very pleasant in bed.

Kiara and Ronan's eyes widened and they groaned as their thin bodies and energy flows merged into a unified circuit. And with it, the physical sensations. For a few moments, they both froze, stunned as ever by the doubled perception. Biting her lip, the spellcaster began to move her hips slowly, now enjoying the tightness and heat of her pussy “on both sides”. Releasing her apprentice's hands, she ran her palms along her body, squeezed her breasts, and began to massage them. This immediately elicited a satisfied moan from Ronan, who had his arm around his mentor's waist. Quickly and effortlessly, they reached the peak of their pleasure in a few minutes, clinging to each other, and exchanging energy to the limit, which increased the pleasure by an order of magnitude.

Exhaling, Kiara wiped away the sweat beading on her forehead and carefully climbed off her apprentice, breaking the fusion. Lowering herself onto the crumpled sheets beside him, the spellcaster buried her palm in his soaked hair and pressed against him, savoring the warmth of his young body.

* * *

At the Small Portal Arch of the Upper City, which was under the jurisdiction of the Duke's court wizard, a tall, well-fed man was shuffling from foot to foot. He had a short but carefully groomed beard, a round, cheeky face, and was dressed in an expensive suit, made according to the latest fashion of the Free Cities. Only one detail spoiled the image of a rich and successful merchant. Two, in fact. The first was a huge necklace made of bones, polished stones, and bird skulls, worn right on top of the suit. It looked wild on the wealthy merchant and would have suited some green-skinned shaman better. In fact, any of the gifted orcs would give a lot for such a necklace. The second detail that ruined the whole image was a pile of various bird feathers stuck into a wide-brimmed hat. To which several bird skulls of different sizes were attached. The largest one, which was in the center, was very large, reaching with its thin long beak to the very brim of the hat.

Beside the man, with her arms folded across her large, tall chest, stood a slanted woman with the flat face of a native of the distant steppes to the east and long, pitch-black hair gathered in two tight braids. Her dark eyes were fixed on the arch of the Small Portal, and her face was tense. She was dressed, as was the man standing next to her, in clothes of very expensive and high-quality fabrics. Only the beautiful blue-and-white dress of a wealthy townswoman, sewn like a man's suit of the latest fashion, had been turned into something else. Many ribbons and strips of cloth had been sewn to it in all sorts of places. Many of them were tied to some bones, polished stone rings, and in some places real gems, though hardly cut. Three dozen different necklaces hung from her chest. A bone one, like the man's, made of white river pearls and amber beads. Both of the women's braids also had similar items woven into them. On the head of the slanted steppe woman was a tall headdress, covered with the claws of birds of prey and a dozen large feathers. The two largest claws, about the size of a man's palm, hung down on either side of the woman's face.

Behind the couple at a respectful distance stood a dozen and a half servants and a few bodyguards. All of them were also looking anxiously at the arch of the Small Portal. Finally, it lit up with light and came to life. Everyone immediately stirred, and a man even moved forward, but was immediately frozen in place by a gesture from the slanted steppe woman. The first to emerge from the portal were two elves, wearing the same white and blue clothes as the woman's dress. Only without any additional decorations, of course. Following them, a young girl with dark hair and slanted eyes, but with more relief facial features, dressed in a good light green dress and a shoulder bag, came out of the portal. On seeing the greeters, she rushed at once toward them with a loud cry. At that moment the calmness left the slanting steppe woman, and she rushed towards her daughter, embracing her in a strong hug.

The fat man hurried after her but stopped a few steps away as a faint vortex of air surrounded the two women. It was weak on the outside, but everyone in the room immediately tensed up. Including the two elves. The Steppe woman was gibbering something in her language, scrutinizing and stroking her daughter from head to toe. She answered her in her native tongue and explained something, gesticulating vigorously. Suddenly, her mother jumped up and grabbed her squeaking daughter's head, forcing her to look into her eyes. Then, with a twisted face, she turned to the two elves. To give the diplomats of the Forest credit, they didn't even raise an eyebrow. However, one of them twitched the tip of his ear a little.

"Hai na tiyar an Sinha?!"

The steppe woman's voice full of anger and rage made her husband flinch and take a step back, and their servants and bodyguards took two. Her eyes flashed with real fire, turning from dark to bright yellow with vertical pupils. The elven diplomat raised his hands palms forward in front of him and began to explain something to the steppe woman in her native tongue in a calm voice. Sinha, who had her arms around her mother's waist, nodded vigorously in unison. The woman looked briefly at her daughter, then again at the Forest diplomat, and said in a demanding voice:

"Athyar!"

The elf took a slow and careful step forward and pulled a small white stone ball from his pocket. He held it out in an open palm and nodded briefly to the steppe woman. She grabbed the diplomat's hand, clutching it tightly with the stone ball, which flashed with a bright white light. The two men's faces immediately twisted from the unpleasant sensation. But after a few moments, the light faded, and the woman let go of the elf's hand, ensuring he wasn't lying. Only then did she calm down, and her eyes stopped burning with fire, returning to normal. Everyone in the room immediately exhaled, and the well-fed man finally ventured over to his daughter, who threw herself around his neck, gibbering rapidly.

Her mother turned to the elven diplomats and spoke in the language of the Free Cities:

"You kept your word. I'll keep mine."

In response, the two elves made perfect small bows and then retreated back into the portal. The happy parents hurried home with their entourage. They had already prepared a festive table, for which they had spared no expense.

* * *

In the spacious room, furnished with quality and expensive furniture in the classic elven style, there was an intimate semi-darkness created by magical lamps. On the floor, women's clothes were scattered in disorder and very expensive ones. The scent of incense from the South wafted through the air, and on a table against the wall were several dishes of leftover fruit and sea mites. A pair of glasses with unfinished expensive elven wine stood there as well. The picture was complemented by bed toys and several vials of love alchemy and aromatic oils lying on the bedside table.

On the twin-size and wide bed, on the crumpled and rumpled sheets, lay two persons. A naked and slender elf with a muscular build and short blond hair cut in the manner of the Forest Guard. He was fastened to the headboard and footboard by his wrists and ankles with wide, sturdy straps. He had a bandage of thick cloth over his eyes and a special gag in his mouth that prevented his jaws from coming together. His entire trained body glistened with scented oils, his chest heaved and his hair was sticky with sweat. His cock was tense and stiff, thick with blood. A golden ring encircled it at the root. Next to the elf, a similarly naked, rather large, and tall woman lay on her side. She threw back her long brown hair, tangled and sticky with sweat, and leaned over to her helpless lover and nipped at his long ear with her lips, licking and sucking it diligently. The bound elf squirmed and let out a helpless moan, trying to pull away:

"Whaaaaaah!"

Satisfied with the effect Ursula bit the tip lightly with her teeth, and then she let the long ear of her new pet out of her mouth and ran her tongue over it. The helpless Dani mewled again in response and began to squirm, trying to escape the tickle. But the strong leather straps prevented him from pulling away and escaping from his mistress. With a giggle, Ursula left his pointed ear alone and ran her palm over the handsome elf's muscular chest, enjoying the smoothness of the skin and the strong muscles hidden beneath. He was so cute after all! So handsome, so slender, with sculpted muscles. He looked like a hero of ancient legends who had defeated a monster for the sake of his beautiful beloved! Such a handsome man, she would not let him go!

Turning Dani's head to her chin, the woman kissed her unwilling lover passionately, penetrating his mouth with her tongue. It was a good thing that the special gag she had put on him prevented him from closing his jaws. At the same time, she threw her left leg over him, bending it at the knee so that the foot touched his fighter, who was standing at attention. Thanks to the enchanted ring and the meticulously chosen love alchemy. Feeling the woman's leg on his cock, Dani, exhausted from the long night, involuntarily began to move his hips and rub against her with all his might. But the artifact ring worn on his fighter at the root did not allow him to spurt without his mistress' permission, no matter how hard he tried. After a little more play with the elf's tongue and teasing his little friend, Ursula rolled over and lay on top of him, pinning him to the bed. So that his cock was wedged between her legs, pressed close to her pussy. Enjoying the helplessness of her lover, who tried unsuccessfully to penetrate her with his hips, the woman kissed Dani once more on the lips. After that she smoothly settled on him, eliciting another moan of pleasure. As soon as Eeyore's cock penetrated her womb, he immediately tried to move, squeezed by his mistress's strong hips. With a predatory smile, Ursula ran her palm over her belly. It was time to take care of the future baby.

Ursula did not ride him for long but simply removed the lock from the ring. Almost immediately, Dani moaned, arched his hips as far as the straps would allow, and poured copiously into her pussy. Ursula moaned contentedly and squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure as she felt the Life-giver's blessings, which were protecting her child, absorb the father's seed. Smiling, the woman once more ran her palm over her belly, on which golden patterns appeared. After sitting on her cute little eared boy for a while, she slowly got off him, kissing him passionately on the lips and rubbing his eared head again. She spread the crumpled sheets settled down beside him and hugged Dani tightly, snuggling up to him with her whole body and resting her head on his shoulder. Covering herself with the blanket, the contented Ursula closed her eyes, said a short prayer to Gaia, whose carved wooden figurine of a pregnant woman stood in a small domestic altar in the corner of the bedroom, and yawned sweetly.

Things had been going pretty well lately. Her mansion had barely been damaged during the pirate raid on the Islands. But she'd been more scared than she'd ever been in her life. The first week had been difficult, too, when the whole city had been like one big anthill. She even forbade her servants to leave the courtyard, armed the guards with everything in the family arsenal, and never left her floor for fear of looters and robbers. But Duke Augustus, honor and praise be to him, quickly put things in order. It was, however, very frightening when the elves arrived in the city. Just in case, she even hid Dani in a special room in the basement of the mansion, where some of the valuables were kept, and still, Ursula couldn't sleep well until the elves had gone back to their Forest. Then things started to get better. She once again praised herself for the money she had spent on the basement, where she kept most of her goods. The healing alchemy that had been a large part of her family's fortune, though not the mainstay, was in high demand in the ravaged city, and prices had skyrocketed.

Ursula had earned more in the past few days than she had in the entire previous year! Even taking into account the fact that she sold some of the healing ointments and tinctures at a great discount to the Duke's guards to show his lordship her participation in the fate of the city, the profits were huge! Of course, cosmetic and rejuvenating alchemy is now quite sluggish, although the same Rose bought a good batch for her own, ha-ha, roses. Even though she had to give it to her at a small discount because according to confirmed rumors, the brothel-madam of the eponymous establishment was tacitly patronized by the new Night Mistress of Midtown. Ursula may live in the Upper Town, where thieves are not allowed, but it is better not to quarrel with her. Especially since she's responsible for more than just herself now.

A warm smile touched her lips at the thought of the baby growing under her heart, and she involuntarily pressed herself even closer to Dani. Their baby would be a real cutie, she had no doubt! She had already started a rumor through the maids that she could charm not just anyone with her beauty, but a real elf! Her cosmetic alchemy helped her a lot. Nonsense, of course, but many people will believe it, especially when it becomes known about the half-blood child. Sales will skyrocket, no doubt about it. And, of course, everyone will want to know who the big-eared daddy is, but Ursula had thought of that too.

Elves are well known for their parsimony towards humans and other races. Her lover could not allow their relationship to become known so they were forced to part. But she, of course, remained forever in his heart. Oh, how romantic! It was as if she had fallen into the fairy tales the old nanny told her as a child. With these happy thoughts, the happy Ursula fell asleep in the arms of the helpless Dani.

Who wasn't really Dani, but Daindrel, a marksman in the eighth company of the third battalion of the first regiment of the Forest Guard. And he was not as helpless as his new mistress and the mother of the future half-blood bastard thought he was. Waiting until Ursula was sound asleep, he rubbed the index and middle fingers of his right hand together. After a few seconds, a thin silver ring appeared on the index finger, covered by a very high-quality illusion. A couple of subtle impacts the belt buckle on his right wrist opened with a quiet click. Carefully, trying not to wake the sniffling human woman, Daindrel released his hand and gently pressed his fingertip against the point on her neck. One more impact enhances Ursula's sleep by an order of magnitude.

The elf breathed out a sigh of relief and hurriedly began to free himself, whispering curses. The human raiders, his carelessness, the lusty fat human woman, the intriguers of the Secret Guard, the human raiders again. When he was completely free of the straps, he twisted out of Ursula's grudging embrace and hurried to the corner of her bedroom, where that dark elf had hidden a few amulets and vials of alchemy behind one of the paintings. Carefully removing it from the wall, Daindrel pulled out a binding amulet and clenched it in his fist, desperately sending out a mental call. The curator of the Secret Guard answered almost immediately:

I'm listening.

Get me out of here, I can't take it anymore! This... It's beyond me to tolerate this lustful sow and her harassment every night! I'll do anything, you can transfer me to the Outer Corps. I'll raid Orcs and Goblins to the Ice Shores or the Rising Shores! Just get me out of here, please!

Supervisor Daindrel's answer literally shocked him, making him goggle his eyes in surprise:

As you wish. Tomorrow we will organize an evacuation. You will receive instructions now.

Unbelieving in his happiness, Daindrel was about to burst into a flood of gratitude, but immediately received a blow:

By the way, someone is waiting for you and asked me to give you a message. Take it.

In the next instant, a female voice sounded in the unfortunate forest guard's head. A female voice very familiar to him, the voice of the deputy commander of a separate strike unit of combat mages of the first regiment of the Forest Guards:

Hello, Daindrel. You damned lusty fucker, you have no idea what I've had to endure because of you. You lustful fucker! But I promise you, you little braindick, I give you my word as an officer of the Forest Guard, that as soon as I get my hands on you, you'll experience everything you've put me through! You will experience all the humiliation, in all intimate positions and combinations! I will personally buy you the biggest human from the Uus-Ual tribes with the biggest cock, and then I will enlarge it with alchemy! Not even one, but three, no, five! And they will fuck you in all your holes until the whole trunk of a savage mumanak gets into your ass and comes out of your mouth! Maybe after that, you'll get some brains in your empty head and memorize the SENTINEL SERVICE RULES!

The last phrase, which turned into a strange scream, sounded a little strange, but Daindrel didn't pay any attention to it. He felt a wild animal horror that he had not felt even when he had been captured by the human raiders. He was brought out of his stupor by the supervisor's voice:

Prepare to receive evacuation instructions...

No need! No, please! I understand everything, I will continue the operation, there is no need for evacuation!

The openly amused curator answered laconically:

As you wish. Work

Turning off the communication amulet, Daindrel realized only at that moment that he had stopped breathing, and he exhaled hastily. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he put it away with a trembling hand and took out another. With that, he made his way into the next room, where his mistress's office was located. Carefully, so as not to leave any traces, he began copying images of her letters and documents, thankful that Ursula hadn't bothered to put them away in drawers this time. After he'd captured every page, he sent the images to his supervisor and hurried out of the office. After closing it and ensuring he had left no trace, Daindrel put the amulet away and retrieved a small vial of special oil from his hiding place. Returning with it to the bed where Ursula was peacefully sniffling, he rolled her over onto her back, carefully uncorked the vial, and poured a few drops onto her huge tits. Carefully closing the cap, he set the bottle aside and sat on top of his mistress to be fucked by the goblins! Grumbling to himself, Daindrel began to rub the oil on her huge breasts, trying to carefully repeat the movements that had been sent to him earlier. Squeeze, stroke, apply pressure here, up, down, back on her nipples, squeeze, twist, apply pressure, squeeze again and in a second circle. Despite her deep sleep, the human began to moan softly, the effects of both the oil and the tit massage taking their toll.

Finished with the procedure, Daindrel got off the flushed and heavily breathing woman, removed the vial, and carefully put the painting back, covering the hiding place. Returning to the bed, he regarded his sleeping mistress for a few moments, hesitating. Ah, what the devil? At least some consolation for the humiliation he had endured. Taking a vial of ordinary aromatic oil from the bedside table, he spread her legs wide and settled between them. Having generously poured the contents of the vial into her pussy, Daindrel began to diligently lubricate it, which again caused the sleeping humane woman to moan through her sleep. When he was done with his preparations, he entered her in one motion and began to move his hips quickly and without much tenderness. Fucking boar woman with huge tits, goddamn it! Reaching out with his right hand, he squeezed her left breast and began to squeeze it vigorously. A lustful, stupid boar with huge, stupid tits like a female Taurus! Fuck! You!

Gritting his teeth, the elf, exhausted by Ursula's fun and not yet recovered from the love alchemy, poured into the humane woman's pussy, and the patterns of the Life-giver's blessing immediately appeared on her belly. Breathing out, Daindrel lowered himself onto his “mistress”, resting his face on her large udders. With a proper puff of breath, he stepped out of Ursula's soundly sleeping form. Not a drop of seed had spilled onto the sheets; it was completely absorbed by Gaia's gift of protecting the forming fetus. He sat on the bed next to the humane woman for a few minutes, pawing at her big tits (at least some compensation), then settled back down. If she found him unbuckled in the morning, it would be a very bad thing....

* * *

"Chris? Are you all right?"

The Mont Ros duke's son, who had been sitting silently in his nightgown on the edge of the bed, staring into nothing, flinched and turned to see his naked lover lying on her side beside him.

"Yeah, it's okay, Mistra, I just didn't..."

"Sighing sadly, the elf rose and moved closer to the young half-elf, hugging him from the back and holding him tightly to her. Laying her head on his shoulder, she said in a calm voice:"

"I can see that that's not true. And I know what you're thinking, Chris. But you do know that. You're your father's son. You have a duty to your family."

Grimacing with displeasure, the young man muttered through clenched teeth:

"I understand, Mistra, it's just... Arch, why now? Why not at least a year earlier? Before I... Argh, damn sea bastards, I wish their islands would sink into the abyss!"

Sighing sadly, the elf gently but confidently turned the young man towards her and looked into his eyes intently:

"Listen to me carefully, Chris. You are the son of a duke, the ruler of an entire city. This is a huge responsibility. You can love anyone. But you must marry the one with whom the union will bring the most benefit to your family."

Groaning the young half-elf turned away from his lover’s embrace and jumped to his feet, waving his arms:

"I understand all this, Mшstra. Everyone has been telling me this since I was in a cradle! Mother, father, grandmother, mentors - everyone! But... I just... Argh, understanding is one thing, but accepting it... Argh!"

He kicked his boots off the floor and sat back down on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapped around his head. Gently, Mistrael got to her feet and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and legs. Christian immediately pressed her against him, pressing his face into her naked breasts and wrapping his palms around her lower back.

"You didn't like Duke Normgraf's daughter that much? She seemed like a pretty decent girl to me..."

"It's not that, Mistra... No, Annabelle is very pretty. Although, I wouldn't have it any other way when your father has so much money. It's just that when we marry her, there's bound to be jealousy and tantrums. I'm sure everyone's been whispering nasty things about you and..."

The quiet laughter of the elf sitting on his lap made the upset young man pull away in surprise from her breast, which smelled so pleasantly of forest flowers.

"Oh, Chris, are you worried about this? That we will have to part because of your wedding? Well, truly, it’s like you were born yesterday!"

"But... how... She... I..."

Laughing even louder, Mistra kissed the dumbfounded half-elf on the lips and cupped his face with her hands. Approaching him closely, she said in a calm voice:

"You don't have to worry about that, my dear. I will definitely find a common language with your wife, and we will not have to part. Believe me, your mother and I have already thought about and discussed all this. And if you want, I can even try to arrange everything so all of us have one bed."

The young man's agape:

"But... how do you..."

"Just trust me, my dear, your mother and I will arrange everything, and your new wife will not cause you any trouble..."

Without further ado, Christian took the sobbing lover in his arms and kissed her passionately. Mistra willingly responded to his caress, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him. Laying her on the bed, the duke's son began to shower his mistress with passionate kisses, gradually sinking lower and lower. First to her breasts, to which he paid the most attention, then to her flat tummy, and then lower. Soon the bedroom was filled with the elf's moans of pleasure. Very natural.

* * *

The view from the wide and spacious balcony of her guest quarters was good. From the height of the ducal castle, the small town at the foot of the mountain seemed tiny and almost puppet-like. In the light of the setting sun, it was especially beautiful, even the traces of the recent raid seemed less obvious. His native Normgrave was somewhat smaller, spread out on the plain, and there were no such beautiful vistas. Wrapped tightly in a warm fur cloak, a young girl with gray eyes, a clear face, and thick brown hair, Annabelle de Canion, daughter of Duke Darmond de Canion, involuntarily admired the sea and the dozens of ships in and out of the harbor.

She and her entourage were welcomed with great warmth and accommodated in beautiful rooms. When she saw her future bridegroom, she was almost dumbfounded, and all her servant-girl friends howled with envy at the sight of such a handsome man. It was as if a hero from the fairy tales her nannies had read to her in her childhood had come to life. If only it weren't for...

"Good evening, dear Annabelle."

A polite voice suddenly heard from behind made the girl flinch and turn around sharply, involuntarily grabbing the amulet on her chest hidden under her dress. Seeing who was standing behind her, she exhaled in indignation and surprise:

"You?! What are you doing here?! How did you end up here, who let you in here?!"

A young elf, wrapped in a dark burgundy cloak, smiled charmingly and raised her open palms:

"Please forgive me, dear Annabelle, for such an unceremonious intrusion, but I simply had no other way to talk to you in private. Please, don’t make noise, we have a lot to talk about."

Without removing her hand from the amulet, the girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously, looking at the uninvited guest who had unceremoniously disturbed her peace. She asked in a voice full of suspicion:

"And what should I talk about, with my future husband’s lover?"

To some of her surprise, the unceremonious elf smiled sweetly again and said in a very polite voice:

"About the most important thing that can happen in the life of the daughter of such a noble man as your venerable father. About the well-being of your future children with Christian."

"From such a turn, Annabelle almost choked, her eyes widening. Glancing at the doors leading to the chambers, and then again at the uninvited guest, she said in a decisive voice, without, however, removing her hands from the amulet on her chest:"

"Now explain what you mean, or I'll call the guards!"

And again the elf smiled charmingly and answered in an extremely polite voice:

"For this reason, I came to you, dear Annabelle. Tell me, did you like Christian? A wonderful young man, handsome, gallant, and well-mannered. Moreover, he is the son of such a rich ruler as August. Just a dream for a huge number of girls and even women."

"For example, for you."

Without even raising an eyebrow in response to Annabelle’s contemptuous tone, the elf smiled even wider and nodded slightly:

"Including for me. But unlike everyone else, I am not your rival, dear Annabelle. Since I do not pose the main threat to you. Don’t let my appearance deceive you, I have been living in this world for quite a long time. And I also gave birth to all my possible children a long ago."

After a short pause, the uninvited guest continued, moving a little closer:

"From me, Christian will not have bastards who in the future would become a threat to your legitimate children. Think about it."

"Without ceasing to attentively examine the guest, and with her hand on the amulet, Annabelle carefully asked:"

"What are you hinting at?"

"I propose that we ally, honorable Annabelle."

The girl's eyebrows flew up:

"Excuse me what?"

"I offer you an alliance. I will remain Christian's official favorite, and I guarantee you that I will let no one but you near him. You will be his lawful wedded wife and, in time, the mother of his children. And you will be able to sleep without fear that one ill-fated day some illegitimate offspring of your husband will appear out of nowhere to take your children's inheritance. And Christian won't have to suffer having to choose between duty and heart. Which means you won't have a problem with him because of it. Consider my words, honorable Annabelle. You can give me your answer through Christian's mother."

With these words, the unexpected and uninvited guest simply disappeared, vanishing into thin air, leaving the young girl with her eyes goggling and mouth hanging open. Waking up the amulet in her hand, Annabelle turned her head around, but even with her magical vision she saw nothing. Although, she could easily see the protective charms surrounding the balcony and doors. Where was she going... And how was she...?

The girl's musings were interrupted by an elderly nanny-maid who came out onto the balcony:

"Mistress? It's late and starting to get cold, let's go inside, we've prepared everything for you... Mistress?"

Annabelle hastily removed her hand from the amulet and nodded calmly, dutifully, as a daughter of the Canion family should:

"It's all right, Gerta. I was just admiring the Morgrave. It's incredibly beautiful from up here."

"Indeed, Mistress."

* * *

Mistrael, frozen on a nearby balcony and covered in illusions, smiled contentedly as she looked at the young girl. She was a good girl, smart and intelligent. It was quite comfortable to work with her. There were, of course, better options among the possible candidates for Chris's wife. But there were a lot worse. This one is smart enough to appreciate the benefits of a barren mistress, which, on the one hand, will not spawn her bastard children, and on the other hand, will not let others do it. Thus giving her legitimate children a haven.

She would have to work with her servant-girlfriends, especially a couple of the prettier ones who had already set their eyes on Christian. Considering that they were not ordinary girls, but daughters of noble families of Normgrave, it would be difficult to get rid of them. Well, at least with a legitimate spouse should not be a problem, and thank you for that. If there was some fanatical jealous woman she'd have to use special methods. That carries a certain risk, after all, the daughter of the duke, as a rule, can not be just drugged with a spell potion or given to the master of Mind Magic. Although, it can happen.

* * *

"So we have a deal, Madame Rosetta,” a satisfied smile appeared on the broad, bearded face of a short, thickly built man in dwarven-style robes.

The brothel-maman of the Vicious Rose, who was sitting in a deep armchair wearing a dark red dress with a huge neckline, sighed theatrically and said:

"As if you left me a choice, honorable Zofrin? Taking advantage of a poor woman like everyone else around you."

Her interlocutor squinted slyly and chuckled into his well-groomed beard:

"You're exaggerating, Madame Rosetta. Besides, you know what times are like now. Everyone needs a craftsman, and I have a waiting list. We're already working hard from morning till late at night. So let's not waste any time, Madame Rosetta."

Sighing once more the brothel-maman took two sheets of paper, on which two repair and construction contracts were written in painstaking handwriting, and carefully signed both documents. Then, stamped them. After that, the same thing was repeated by a smiling Zofrin, the head of the largest and one of the best artisan-builders in Morgrave, who worked for the clan of dwarves that lived under Mont Ros Mountain. Mostly those born of mixed marriages.

"You won't regret it, Madame Rosetta. We work diligently, and everything will be ready in the best possible way and on time. I assure you."

"I certainly hope so, honorable Zofrin."

When the smiling half-blood dwarf and his copy of the contract left her office, all the theatrical sadness was gone from the face of the not-young and large woman. In its place was a tired irritation on her face. With a quiet curse, she pulled a small connection amulet from her desk drawer. The real owner of the best brothel in Midtown answered the call immediately:

How was the meeting, Rose?

Expectedly not so much, Henrieta! That bearded asshole was reluctant to give up a single copper to the last. He's taking advantage of the fact that he and his company are in high demand, the bastard. I could barely get the price down to three hundred in silver.

Thanks for that. When will work start?

Zofrin promised that tomorrow

Great. Keep me posted, Rose.

After extinguishing the communication amulet, Henrieta placed it on a special stand, took a cup of tea from her desk, and took a few sips. It's a good herbal brew, true elven, berry flavored, her favorite. The quadroon placed the cup back on the small saucer and returned to the papers on the table before her. Standing at her side, Zara carefully took the teapot from the tray, dressed in a gorgeous black and white maid's dress, tailored exactly to her figure from expensive fabrics. It, like the cup, was of white porcelain, elf-made. With a flawless and elegant movement, she filled Anrieta's cup without spilling a drop. The young girl had become even more beautiful in the intervening time, turning into a real doll. Her blonde hair was neatly brushed and gathered into a tight ponytail. A little expensive elven cosmetics emphasized her expressive blue eyes and neat lips. Taking a specially prepared sheet of paper from the table, Henrieta held it out to her without looking and ordered:

"Read it."

The girl bowed gracefully, accepted the sheet of paper, and without hesitation, read out a passage from a ballad from the last Great War with the Orcs, glorifying one of the semi-legendary heroes of that era. Henrieta, who had been listening attentively, nodded faintly and contentedly.

"All right. You can clear the table."

"As you wish, Lady Henrieta."

After making another flawless bow, Zara neatly stacked the cups and plates with the rest of the appetizers on the tray and picked it up. Taking it to a table in the corner of the study, the girl returned to the table and froze at Henrieta's side. Smiling contentedly, the Quadroon turned to her and spoke:

"Not bad. You still need a little work on your posture. Otherwise, it’s pretty good. You learn quickly, my dear."

The slightly embarrassed girl performed an almost perfect curtsey and answered:

"Thank you, Lady Henrieta."

Rising to her feet, the quadroon came close to Zara and put her hand on her shoulder:

"You still have a lot to learn, my dear. If you continue to be as diligent in six months you will be accepted for testing in the Forest. You will really like it there, I assure you. This is an incredible place. And perhaps a handsome elven youth will even pay attention to you there."

These words brought a blush to the girl’s cheeks, and she became very cutely embarrassed:

"Do you really think this is possible, Lady Henrieta?"

A sincere smile touched the quadroon's lips:

"Well, as you can see, my grandmother succeeded. This means that with due diligence, you will also have a chance. Besides, I'll tell you a little secret."

Leaning conspiratorially towards the girl who had opened her eyes, Anrieta whispered:

"Elves love to look down on people. But when it comes to bed, many are not at all averse to sharing a bed with human women. At such a moment, the main thing is to be able to take advantage of it. But we will talk about this at the very end of your training, my dear."

Blushing and embarrassed, Zara nodded her head completely awkwardly and said:

"Thank you, Lady Anrieta. You have done so much for me and my mother..."

Interrupting the stream of embarrassed thanks, the quadroon said in a caring voice:

"I just couldn't leave you in distress, my dear, and only did what I could."

About the fact that Zara's mother, two floors below, was pleasuring one of the officers of the Ducal Guard with her mouth right now, Henrieta preferred to keep silent. Such a lovely and innocent creature didn't need to know.

"That's all for today, my dear. You did great on the test. You can go rest now, tomorrow you have Elvish grammar and penmanship classes. I know they are not easy subjects, but a good maid should be able to read and write Elvish, so do your best."

"I will, Lady Henrieta. I will do my best!"

"I don't doubt you for a second, my dear."

Letting the girl rest, she walked her to her office door. What a lovely creature, lucky to be in her hands and not in the hands of a gang of slavers. Speaking of which. Frowning, the Night Mistress of Midtown returned to her desk. Illegal slave traders had always been a particular headache and a persistent evil. If one gang were destroyed, a new one would appear. And as you know, one jackal is better than a dozen rats fighting each other. It's bad for business. Therefore, slavers were tolerated as an inevitable evil. As long as they didn't overstep certain boundaries.

The last Catcher had crossed that boundary, becoming too brazen and greedy in recent months, doing business where he shouldn't. For which he paid with his worthless life. Anrieta did not like the new Catcher, Limp Bajja, as much as his predecessor. But unlike him, he had connections with the merchants of live goods in the Caliphate and on the Islands. And right now those connections were in high demand, which was why Lame Bajja was supported by the majority of votes at the council. Because it was very difficult and sometimes even more expensive to directly ransom relatives and friends whom the raiders had captured. The Morgrave was in a state of permanent enmity with the Islands and never traded directly.

And it was because of these connections the new Catcher showed Henrieta very little respect as Night Mistress paying her far less than he should. That will have to be resolved soon. But for now, Limp was too useful, and she was told not to touch him. And not only the assistant secret advisor of the honorable Duke Augustus but also her uninvited guests with long ears. It's all right, she'll wait as long as it takes. She has a lot of patience. In the meantime, she should get on with other things, as she had plenty of them now.

As it turned out, the Night Master of the Upper Town had not survived the islanders' raid. It turned out that settling in a luxurious mansion by the harbor wasn't the smartest decision. And now, his surviving associates are doing what Henrieta did not so long ago squabbling over the vacant space. When this is over, there will be a meeting with a new colleague.

In the Lower City, the Night Master remained the same and was even more able to consolidate his power. Simply because his slums were untouched by the raiders. Since there was nothing to take there compared to the Middle or Upper City Henrieta had already negotiated with him quite fruitfully. The old agreements remained, as well as the zones of interest. Which is a good thing. There were still some issues to settle with the Duke's Privy Counselor, and through him with the City Guard, but that would not be a problem, thanks to August's wife. Or rather, her kin, who are sometimes guests at the Vicious Rose.

A polite knock on the door distracted Anrieta from reading her report. When she sensed who had come, she gave her face the most indifferent expression possible, picked up one of the documents from the desk, put her foot on her leg, and with a flick of her fingers opened the locks on the office door. Her guest stepped inside and froze in front of the desk, bowing her head and waiting for permission to speak. Without taking her eyes off the document in her hands, the quadroon threw briefly:

"I'm listening."

"I've done your errands, Lady Henrieta. All the treats for the special clients are ready and have been delivered to the right roses. I've examined the children. It's nothing serious. I've treated minor sores and scratches. I prepared tinctures and ointments for the roses. A stock of healing potions and ointments for blades too."

The quadroon woman, who still hadn't looked up at her guest, nodded briefly:

"Good."

Without looking, she took a bundle out of the drawer, placed it on the table, and said:

"Here is the book, delivered at my request for you. Study it thoroughly, then prepare a list of the ingredients you need for the job."

"As you command, Lady Henrieta."

"Dismissed."

When her guest left and the office doors closed behind her, the quadroon grimaced and set the document aside. Such a "gift" Twilight had given her. It was certainly very useful and well worth the price of admission. Just a couple of clients she'd processed with her help. No, of course, they did not fall in love with their roses, that would be the greatest folly. Such a spell would bring only problems and no benefit. But to enhance the sensations and pleasures of sex - it is quite another matter. No love or magic, what are you talking about? Just roses are very good in bed and agree to almost everything, unlike legal wives, for example.

And she does a good job with other routine things like medical care for the brothel workers and their babies. She hasn't even given her a reason to be sent to detention yet. She's been perfectly obedient. But to keep such a snake so close... If she had her way, that bitch would have been drowned in Dantra long ago. Just to be sure. But for now, she'll just have to put up with her. Oh, well, it's late. She can deal with the rest of the paperwork tomorrow. In the meantime, she can rest.

After putting the papers away, Anrieta took the connection amulet and summoned Lada. The faithful and personally bred and raised assistant, as always dressed in only bracelets and sandals, appeared almost immediately, guessing perfectly well why her mistress needed her at such a time. The doors of the study had barely closed behind her, and the girl was already kneeling in front of the quadroon, who had managed to throw off her expensive high-heeled boots (the real work of the masters of the Underworld, according to the latest fashion of dark elves) and pants. With one foot on the table and the other on Lada's back, Anrieta leaned back in her chair, enjoying her assistant's skillful tongue on her pussy. With one hand she burrowed into the girl's silky hair, and with the other she undid the top buttons of her shirt, causing her ample breasts to spill out. Closing her eyes, Anrieta began to caress her tits, while imagining that it was not Lada, but someone else who was working with her tongue on her knees...

* * *

When she returned to her room, Draga carefully closed the door behind her and went to her desk, where the witchcraft supplies she had been given were spread out. Placing the bundle on it, she pulled out a thick hardcover book. On the cover was written in calligraphic letters: “Love Magic. The main types of charms and methods of their application.” Draga opened it and flipped through the pages written in painstaking handwriting and illustrated in great detail. She was so sick of it all! She wanted to howl and tear her hair out, but instead, she had to endure it and pretend to be a submissive whore day after day. Because she was a fucking whore now!

When she looked at the small mirror hanging on the wall of her room, the witch felt the urge to break it. It reflected a young, slender woman with well-groomed, neatly combed black hair. Skillfully applied makeup to emphasize her eyes and lips against her pale skin. And with big tits that were more than twice the size of her old ones. On display for all to see!

The dressmaker of this brothel had done her best to fulfill her mistress's orders. As a result, Draga was now forced to wear only stockings of dark fabric, attached by garters to a small vest of the same dark fabric. Her forcibly enlarged breasts and crotch remained completely exposed. As did her ass. The only thing she managed to fight off was the high-heeled shoes she'd never worn in her life. Instead, she'd been given sandals, like the ones they wore on the Islands.

In addition to the dressmaker, she'd also had a lot of work done on her by the local beauty masters. A couple of old women, who were not shy in expressions and unflattering comments about the witch's appearance, had tidied up her nails and the hair on her head. And all the rest were removed with the help of special cosmetic alchemy. Then a master of tattooing took over, thanks to whom a huge red rose is now painted on Draga's smooth pubes, with its stem going to her pussy.

After all these excruciations, the workers of this brothel made a verdict that now she has turned into a real rose. Stupid bitches! Oh yes, the same brainless men would drool at the sight of her. Like she needed it! All her life, since she was a little girl, she didn't give a damn! Power was all that mattered, and she had learned that very early and painfully. After her mother had been banished by her coven sisters and deprived of most of her powers and access to her accumulated knowledge! If she wanted to be beautiful and have men crawling at her feet, she would have had enough of charms and love spells, which she had never been interested in. And which she is now forced to do.

Simultaneously tending to the local whores' fucked-up slits, the sores of their little bastards, and the wounds of that eared woman's thugs... At the unflattering thought of her new mistress, cold rings squeezed her heart making it skip a beat. Frozen in horror, Draga didn't even breathe for a few seconds. Then, the snake that had settled on her heart loosened its rings, and the pale witch slowly exhaled, cursing herself for her intemperate thoughts. It was not enough to go two floors down on her own foolishness. She had to put up with the criminal scum who never missed a chance to make her a dirty suggestion or grab her ass. It hasn't gotten any further than that yet, but that's just for now. You idiot, you fucking idiot, you greedy asshole, God damn it, Strym! She told them to stay out of the Forest! No, you think you've got it all figured out, you damn fools.

The flow of unflattering thoughts towards her former and now probably deceased comrades was abruptly interrupted when the witch turned another page of the book. At the sight of the title of the chapter, Draga froze, gawking, and even stopped breathing again. For a few seconds, the witch sat motionless, then caught herself and slowly exhaled a few times. Everything was calm. The bloody snake in her heart didn't react in any way. That was good.

Moving the book closer, the witch strengthened the magic lamp and began to carefully read the even lines. For the first time in my life, probably really with a huge and genuine interest in love spell magic. The chapter that interested Draga so much was called: “Methods and Techniques of Casting a Love Spell through a Connection with a Familiar.”

* * *

Zitrael closed her eyes blissfully and leaned back against the rim of a huge white marble bath filled with hot water and special herbs. Beside her, soaked in a pair of baths just like this one the two Secret Guard agents who had been covering her during this thrice-cursed operation. A pair of human maids in spotless white robes were silently scurrying between them, adding new and carefully selected herbal infusions or pinches of salts to the hot water. Or adding a little more hot water. It felt so good...

As soon as she returned to the Forest, she and her agents were immediately sent to the main healing center at the foot of the first and oldest Tree of Life. They were immediately attended to by the best of the healers, who immediately warned all three of them that the treatment would be long and difficult. Particularly in her case, since the brunt of the mental influence was on her, after all. As if she didn't know that already!

The first thing the healers did was the easy part. Removing compulsions tied to acoustic, visual, or physical commands. It was a blessing that all of them were carefully recorded by the cover team. This made the work of the Mind Magic masters much easier. After only three days, Zitrael was no longer frozen in place like a statue, speechless, falling asleep, undressing, spreading her legs, and cumming at the same time peeing (damn that lustful desert bitch!) In parallel with this, a course of healing alchemy aimed at reducing the hypersensitivity of her breasts and pussy, as well as the general desire to copulate with anyone. So far, it has helped little, but as the healers explained it's easier to break than build. Complete elimination of the consequences of love alchemy will take more than a week. And only then, it will be possible to think about what to do with breasts.

At the thought of what that bitch had done to her tits, Zitrael could barely keep from reflexively clutching them in her hands, twisting her nipples. The healers had strictly forbidden any unauthorized wonking and had sternly reprimanded her for resorting to the help of that damn southern boy so often on her way to the Forest. As if she had a choice! She was ready at that moment to throw herself at anyone and anything! By the way, she would have to whip him again later, the bastard, on his firm and sweet... Fuck you! Her nipples hardened again from her vulgar thoughts and became itchy in the hot water filled with healing additives. So did her pussy. Gritting her teeth, Zitrael inhaled and exhaled deeply several times, trying to calm herself. She would get through this. The worst of it was over. She would rest for a year or two, recover fully, and regain her former appearance and form.

It was a shame that training would have to wait since the healers had forbidden any serious strain on the subtle bodies. She had spent a lot of time in a magic-suppressing collar, which was not good for her magical gift. Then she'd have to train and develop her energy channels and aura resistance again... Damn juvenile idiots and a goddamn desert bitch! Okay, she can endure it all.

After lying in the hot water for the allotted time, all three damaged elves got out of the baths, put on clean robes, and said goodbye to each other, going to their rooms. The healing procedures were over for today, and they could rest until tomorrow. But first, there was something important. Zitrael grinned predatorily as she entered her chambers. At the sight of her mistress, the southern boy sitting on a separate bed in the corner of the room fell to his knees in fear and froze. In the days that had passed, he had been made to look as good as possible. He had been thoroughly washed, and all hair had been removed from his body, except that on his head. At Zitrael's request, it had been done in the most painful way possible. She almost had an orgasm when she saw him screaming as the cloth strips soaked in a special ointment were pulled out of his hair. Then his mouth and nails were cleaned, and he was given a full set of procedures, after which he was not ashamed to be used for bed rest.

Throwing her robe back on the bed, Zitrael approached the frozen Khibi, as she called him, smiling carnivorously. The healers had forbidden self-indulgence, but a complete cessation of carnal pleasures in her condition would do more harm than good. What was required here, they said, was a gradual and systematic reduction. So, twice a day, she was allowed to use her new sex slave. Officialized and even put on full payroll. But no more, strictly monitored by a pair of enchanted bracelets she was forced to wear without taking them off. Stopping a step away from the barely perceptibly trembling boy, who wore only a sturdy magical collar, Zitrael thought for a few moments, scrutinizing him closely. Should she use his tongue or his cock? Fuck you, you fucking brainiac!

She shook her head and grinned viciously. The main problem to be solved was that the bitch's influence had made her completely lose any natural aversion to humans. Previously, she had only allowed herself to share a bed with the most attractive of them, ignoring the others. And that she perceived them more as living toys than as full-fledged partners. Now, any fairly handsome person, even like this Southern boy, was perceived by her as kin on an absolutely natural level. All this was superimposed on other effects and consequences of love alchemy, which increased the sensitivity of erogenous zones and the general level of lust.

In her mind, she knew perfectly well that carnal interest in the handsome boy squeezed at her feet was not natural to her. She wouldn't have even looked at him that way before. Except that the itching in her nipples and pussy said quite the opposite. And fixing it, according to the healers, would take a long time, and very carefully. No, they could easily instill in her an aversion and rejection of humans. Except that after the work of this desert bitch, such indoctrination would feel foreign and alien. Which could lead to other problems in the future. Yeah, she got involved in saving her niece! Uh, she'll answer for it separately, the prodigal goat! She will! But later. With a snap of her fingers, the elfess sharply commanded:

"Down!"

The boy standing there with his forehead on the floor instantly rolled over onto his back and stretched to his full height, his eyes tightly shut. Zitrael lowered herself onto him so that Khibi's head was exactly between his thighs, licking her lips in anticipation:

"Work!"

When he received the command, the boy immediately began licking her pussy with all the diligence he could muster. Zitrael bit her lip in pleasure and reached up to her chest. Immediately she was burned with pain from the bracelet on her wrist. Oh, for crying out loud! Always forgetting about the healers' instructions, about having to choose only one thing. Either breasts, pussy, or ass. Not combine. With a hiss of pain, she squeezed the boy's head with her legs and clawed at his hair, pressing it even harder against her pussy. After a minute, she moaned loudly and finished, flooding Khibi's face with love juices. Instructed beforehand by the healers and Zitrael herself, the boy immediately froze motionless, mouth closed and still not opening his eyes.

The elfess rose to her feet, remembering to step forcefully on Khibi's face, pushing him to the floor. It was a small thing, but it felt good! Leaving the boy lying on the floor, she threw on a robe and commanded:

"Place!"

Khibi immediately curled up on his pillows and faced the wall, looking like an indoor dog. Zitrael headed for the restroom, rinsing herself before bed, and continuing to berate the hated brainiac. Fucking desert bitch! Because of her, one time was no relief at all now, but only an aggravation! She wanted more. She wanted to ride that rascal! She wanted to throw him on the bed and ride him until she ran out of strength, to squeeze him... Fuck you! Gritting her teeth, Zitrael poured an entire jug of cool water over herself. It helped, and she calmed down a bit. Wiping herself off with a soft towel, the elfess returned to the main room. Going to the nightstand by the bed, she drank three vials, one after the other, in one volley, with the gentlest possible alchemy of the sedative type. Without it, it was very difficult to fall asleep. Climbing under the blanket, she crumpled up and wrapped her legs around it, burying her face into the pillows. Stupid desert bitch...

* * *

The land on the northern border of Kuordemar was chosen with great care. In the end, it was chosen to be part of a fertile field just outside the city limits. The chosen land was carefully plowed, with a fine-tooth comb, and all stones were removed. Only women peasants, from small to large, took part in the plowing. When everything was ready, the solemn day of laying the new and henceforth the Main Temple of the Life-giver on all the Islands came. The communities of peasants engaged in rural labor were the most happy about it.

From early morning, the ceremony was attended by a huge crowd from the capital and surrounding areas. It was the highest nobility, including the royal family and the King of the Isles. He announced his personal participation in the upcoming ceremony. As the sun rose from the horizon, two dozen women, dressed in green and gold, walked barefoot into the field, carrying baskets of grain. They were led by a tall and very beautiful woman with long blond hair and a very seductive figure. However, there was no one without good shape among those who came to the field. They began to recite the prayers of the Life-giver and moved in a circle, slowly spreading the grains on the freshly plowed land. The priestesses gathered in the center of the field, holding hands and forming a circle with the eldest of the priestesses inside.

A tall man with a luxuriant mane of curly dark hair, dressed in magnificent red and blue robes, walked toward them to the crowd's approving whistle. But barefoot, too. As Alekhar crossed the boundary of the circle of Gaia's priestesses, who continued to recite prayers to their mistress, Amalia, who stood in the center, with a charming smile, lay back on the ground with her arms spread apart and her bare feet spread. With an answering smile, the King of the Isles kneeled before the priestess and then lowered himself on top of her, pulling up her skirt. She had nothing on underneath. Alekhar brought his face close to the flushed Amalia's face and said contentedly:

"I have to say, I really like the rites of the Life Giver priestesses."

The priestess, who exhaled loudly when he entered her, whispered:

"I really hope you will like the result, my King..."

"Alekhar, Amalia. For you, Alekhaaaarrr."

The orgasm came suddenly, even though he'd only entered the priestess before he'd even started to move. With a scream, the King of the Isles arched his back and spurted copiously. A wave of scalding flame traveled down his body, all the way to his belly, to his loins, and through them into the priestess's womb. Amalia, pinned to the ground by him, groaned loudly and wrapped her legs around him, arching her back as well. In the next instant, a wave of green light swept from them in all directions across the ground. A moment later, the seeds sown by the priestesses began to sprout with great speed, and within a minute the entire plowed plot of land was covered with young and still green spikelets of wheat. The crowd gathered around erupted into loud and joyful shouts and hooting. The place for the future temple was consecrated and approved by the goddess, and in a few months, when the consecrated harvest would be carefully gathered, the construction would begin. But that would be later. In the meantime, Alekhar was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters. To be precise, one very specific question, possessing a gorgeous chest, lovely blonde hair, and a charming face. And who had just become the mother of his third daughter. Rising to his feet, he picked up the squealing priestess in his arms, and announced loudly:

"The Life-Giving One gave her blessing to the temple! Let the celebrations begin!"

And in a quieter voice, he added:

"Which we will spend on the Conqueror of the Seas!”

At the same moment, Alekhar with Amalia, was transported aboard his flagship.

* * *

"That was rather rude, Alekhar."

Rolling his eyes, lounging on the wide sofa in his cabin, the King of the Islands answered in a tired voice:

"Mom, you just can’t imagine how difficult it is for me to be on land. Every step on the ground is like having an anchor on my neck and legs."

"I sincerely hope that this was the reason for your flight. And not in the desire to spend the whole day in bed with a new favorite."

Closing his eyes, Alejar was convinced that the one in question was peacefully snoring on his bed, burying her face in the pillows. With a slight effort of will, covering her naked body with a blanket, he turned to his mother:

"First of all, not a favorite, but a Navy wife, Mom. Secondly, I wasn't just having fun with her. Amalia carried a daughter for me today, and I cared for the child's future. You know very well what the blessings of the Giver of Life require."

Now the older woman rolled her eyes and rose to her feet.

"You don't have to remind me of that. All right, do as you please, Alekhar. Just don't forget the other mother of your daughters."

"Of course, Mother."

Yeah, it's hard to forget. How could he persuade Faona to have a threesome? And after all, she does not mind. She gets along with Amalia, and during joint baths always gladly helps her rub her back. And not just her back. She's teasing him on purpose, knowing he can see it all. Should he get her something? The King of the Isles' thoughts and fantasies were interrupted by a knock on the door of the captain's quarters. Alekhar opened them by an effort of will and waited for the guest to arrive:

"Good evening, Darlekh. Something happened?"

The Commander of the Invisible Guard nodded and handed his nephew a scroll:

"Yes. I managed to learn something interesting from my agents on the continent. Our fugitives showed up."

The King of the Islands, instantly becoming serious, leaned forward and snatched the scroll, quickly scanning it with his eyes.

"Well-well-well. This means that the elves helped them. So interesting…"

After being silent for a few seconds, Alekhar returned the scroll to his uncle and ordered:

"Inform Melisara about it. She will be very interested to know."

"Necessarily."

When Darlekh left, Alekhar scratched his chin thoughtfully. This means his triumph was spoiled by the big ears. Is they upset about the raid on their eastern sea gate? Or was it a slap in the face to him personally? And who helped them here? He needs to think about this...

* * *

So unfortunate. So unfortunate. After rereading the report he had received the day before, he folded the sheet of paper neatly and tucked it into his chest pocket. It's always like this. You plan, you anticipate, you prepare. But one accident and everything goes wrong. Everything was going so well...

He was distracted from his gloomy thoughts by the clacking of heels on polished marble slabs. A young girl with a perfect posture, wearing a flawless black-and-white dress, stopped in front of him and clicked her heels together. In a voice devoid of any intonation and with a face completely devoid of emotion, she said:

"Master is ready to meet you. Please follow me."

As he rose to his feet, he gestured for his entourage to wait where he was, and followed the branded maid. He knew the route well and would have found his way easily. However, the owner of this place did not like his guests to go anywhere unaccompanied and without asking. And he didn't like guests, preferring to spend his time in the company of only his... masterpieces.

Stopping in front of the tall solid wood doors, the maid took a step to the side, turned on her heels sideways, and still in the same voice said:

"Please come in. Master is waiting for you."

At the same moment, the doors swung open without a creak. He stepped inside the spacious room, which was brightly lit by a multitude of magical lamps. As soon as he crossed the threshold the doors closed without a creak. He adjusted his collar once more and headed for the huge work table, littered with various books, and tools for magical and alchemical practices, which stood in the center of the room. Behind it in a comfortable chair sat the owner of this place. He stopped a few paces in front of the table, quietly coughed, and said hello, bowing his head politely:

"Hi, Master."

The man sitting at the table broke away from his work for a brief moment and said in a calm, completely indifferent voice:

"Hi, Curator."

Then he went back to his work. Licking his parched lips the guest spoke trying to make his voice as firm as possible:

"We've been having problems with V-2. My people were able to figure out why the evacuation protocol didn't work."

The owner of this place didn't even raise his eyes to his guest:

"Oh, really? Why is that?"

She was captured by the islanders during the raid on Morgrave. Apparently, she went straight to the Conqueror of the Seas. That's why we couldn't get our call to her. The flagship of the Isles suppresses alien magic around it. Then she ended up in Kuordemar, under the care of the Gaia priestesses there. Because of the protection of the Isles, multiplied by the blessing of the Lady of the Seas, we still couldn't reach her. And then.

Master, still busy with his work, said in the same indifferent voice without raising his eyes:

"And what happened next?"

Licking his dry lips again, Curator finished:

"Then V-2 disappeared. She was kidnapped right from the temple."

Master let out a quiet sad sigh. Putting his tools aside, he looked at Curator and said:

"So, she fell into the hands of the elves."

"We don't know this for sure! It is possible that these were..."

"Raising his palm, Master interrupted Curator mid-sentence:"

"We will assume the worst case scenario, that it fell into the hands of the elves. Are you aware of the consequences of this failure?"

Swallowing, Curator nodded briefly:

"Yes."

Master was silent for a minute, folding his hands in Gendo gesture. Then he sighed sadly and said:

"I warned you, Curator."

His guest, shuddering, said hastily:

"Vinatir was too helpful and convenient! Replacing it would require a lot of time and additional funds. We managed to hide the results of his unauthorized abduction, no one found out anything, and I took measures so that in case..."

Stopping the interlocutor again, Master said in an unchanged voice:

"You've already said it all. Then everyone agreed with you. Except me. And what did this lead to?"

"This is an unforeseen accident! It was impossible to predict such a development of events!"

"Life consists entirely of such accidents. And you know this very well."

Having fallen silent Master sighed sadly again. Then he continued:

"We'll have to take extreme measures."

Startled, Curator licked his lips and asked uncertainly:

"Are you sure you can't do without this? This is a very big risk and..."

"If they find out, then we will have an order of magnitude more problems."

Curator's eyebrows shot up and he visibly tensed:

"But... Didn't you... hide the traces of your work?"

"Of course, otherwise I would never have approved of its leaving in the hands of Vinatir. But I'm not omnipotent. And the elves have ways of getting around my disguise. Given the circumstances, I am inclined to assume they may well take advantage of them."

Master stood from his huge desk and walked leisurely toward the tall cabinet against the wall. Curator glanced at the naked body hanging motionless above the table in a magical glow. Just looking at the sight made him shiver. Even though he had seen all sorts of things in his life. Fortunately, Master returned soon, holding a small polished wood box. On its lid was a skillfully drawn face portrait of an elf woman with silver hair and azure eyes. Holding it out to Curator Master spoke:

"I really don't like it when my masterpieces are broken. Try not to let this happen again in the future."

Swallowing, his guest hastily nodded and carefully accepted the presented box:

"Of course. I'll do everything!"

"I really hope for it."

Turning around Master headed to his place. Having bowed Curator turned around and hurried to the exit, feeling like a mountain had fallen from his shoulders. But as soon as he took a few steps...

"And one more thing."

Startled, he turned to Master who had sat down at the table. Still with the same indifferent face, he took out another small box from the desk drawer, without any drawings or inscriptions, and placed it in front of him. Opening it, he said:

"Your visit came at a very opportune time. I finished work. Please."

From what he heard, Curator almost dropped the first box. Slowly approaching the table, he cautiously peered inside. Then he turned his gaze to Master:

"It's..."

"Yes."

Taking another look at the contents Curator licked his lips and carefully asked:

"Will it... work?"

For the first time during their conversation, a shadow ran across Master’s face. Reaching into the desk drawer, he took out a small and very elegant stiletto knife made of dark metal. Its blade was as long as a palm, no more. Raising it Master asked:

"Can this kill?"

"Uh... Excuse me, what?"

"Do you think this can kill?" Master repeated his question, shaking the stiletto between his fingers.

"Um... Is he enchanted? I don't see any traces of magic..."

"No, it's a regular blade. So do you think this can kill?"

"Mmm. Yes, it's can. If you hit it in the right place, in the neck or the eye..."

"So you have answered your question."

Putting the stiletto away, Master pointed to the contents of the second box:

"If you hit it in the right way and the right place, it will work. I guarantee this. But only when struck in the right place and in the appropriate manner. Organizing this is your responsibility."

With a hurried nod, Curator carefully closed the second box and took it away:

"Of course. We've got it all worked out and we'll be ready soon."

"Very good. In that case, good day to you."

Master returned to his work with a slight bow of his head. Curator hurried to leave his abode, feeling his heart pounding like a frenzy. How badly timed everything was, at least six months later...

* * *

Author's Note:

Ufff... 38 pages. More than the first interlude by two pages. I spent two hours proofreading.

So, Queen didn't get any screen time again, but we'll fix that in the next chapters. The secondary characters, who are a carload and a small cart, got their portions of lemons and are very happy about it. But not all of them.

Private Zitra(el) has been rescued and is now nursing her long-eared head back to health in a deluxe sanitarium. And we'll be traveling north to the sunny city of Iyastar, where until recently it was thought that Tiantrel was working for the good of the Forest.

I'll try not to drag this out too long. And as usual, my thanks to the fans, commenters, and editors. Yup, yup, yup, yup! That's it for tonight, Brinar is tired, Brinar is going to bed.

[/author]

The patriarch of the Elf Queen