“Hey, Lou. Lou~”

Arthur looked up from forcing William to chug another glass of watered down Herbanacle to an interesting sight. After a delicious dinner, the liquor was brought out, as per usual.

His friends didn’t make the most interesting drinkers. Marthe became somber and quiet once she got drunk, slouching in her chair as she sipped from her glass. He wasn’t brave enough to try and push her past her limit, fearing she’d really try to kill him. He liked his chances against the redhead but if they fought, Lou would undoubtedly side with Marthe and his head would be ripped from his shoulders.

William was the worst of the lot. He couldn’t call himself a drinker. He was the cautious type, who measured every sip. Arthur would wager he had never drunk till he lost his reason and woke up in a strange place. Or even gotten into a drunken brawl. Arthur had gotten into his first brawl at thirteen and was knocked out cold with a clay mug. Good times.

As a grayman who drank more beer than water, watching his wimpy friend dilute the top-notch liquor Lou provided and talk about getting carried away when his pale cheeks barely had a flush irked him something fierce.

Lou and her wife didn’t enter the equation. No matter how much the two of them drank, it didn’t seem to affect them. He’d challenged them to a drinking contest hoping to find an amount that could illicit the slightest reaction. That amount was more than he could handle.

Funny enough, the most amusing drinker out of their group was the stoic future knight. Alana could throw it back with the best of them but she didn’t have a scrap of tolerance, perhaps the most ladylike trait she had.

He looked up just as she attempted to stand, reaching for Lou. It was a single step but the blond still managed to lose her footing, stumbling forward. The noblewoman was ready for her, scooting out her chair and catching Alana about her waist. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.”

“Yoooourrrr…” Alana’s threw her arms around Lou’s shoulders, head lolling until it rested on the noblewoman’s hair. She hummed as a hand stroked the wavy tresses before poking Lou’s cheek. “Ugh, make the room stop spinning.”

Lou chuckled. “Room’s fine, Alana. Your head’s what’s spinning.”

“I’m tired…”

“Mm. Guess it is getting late. Lou put down her glass and stood up. Her eyes found Arthur’s. He grinned and raised his glass in a silent toast, chuckling at her resultant sneer. It was funny how she took offense at anything he did, even when he tried to be courteous.

The noblewoman sighed and motioned to her wife, who somehow managed to imbue the dangerous sensuality of an uncoiling snake into the simple action of standing. “Don’t you get any ideas,” Lou warned as she helped Alana into the other woman’s arms.

“My love, you wound me. I am completely trustworthy.”

Arthur didn’t know the elf very well but one look at her smile and he didn’t believe a word.

“You smell gooood~” Alana muttered into her chest. She squealed as she was swept into a bridal carry, arms flailing. Kierra carried her toward the stairs, her chuckles and Alana’s squeals echoing back to the dining room.

Lou grumbled to herself before shouting, “Earl!”

The steward appeared within seconds of her call, bowing shallowly at the room’s entrance. “My lady?”

“Bell is readying the carriage. See Marthe and William home. Before either of you refuses out of politeness or general disdain for the world, I don’t care. Whatever else I can say about my family, I was raised with manners and care about certain aspects of my reputation.

“You are my guests, drunk on my liquor, so it’s my responsibility to ensure you are put in your beds safely. Earl is going to follow this order, even if it means he has to break your legs and throw you in the carriage.”

“You call that safe?” Marthe mumbled.

“Eh, Bell’s going with you and can snap a few broken bones back together.”

“Tank you fer your concern, lady,” William slurred, gripping the edge of the table tightly as he stood. Earl helped Marthe to her feet, offering her an arm for balance. With his free hand, he caught William by the back of his vest when he stumbled after attempting to bow towards Lou. “Wish you a good night.”

“Yeah, you two have a good night.” Lou waved them off and Earl escorted them out of the room. Then she turned to Arthur, who tried not to look too excited. He didn’t take Lou as the type to go back on her word but he could see her reneging on their deal at the last moment if he somehow offended her.

Despite his efforts, a bit of his smile must have slipped through. Lou sighed, covering her face with a hand. “Let’s get this over with. You agree that the terms of our agreement mean you are giving yourself to my thrall to use as she pleases for a night?”

He gave up trying to conceal his excitement and a big grin split his face. “Giving myself to a sexy woman, that’s right.”

“Saints damned idiot. Do you know what a succubus is?”

“Eh.” He scratched the side of his pitiful beard, still deflated from the forceful grooming Lou had imposed on him. “I know enough. They make the best lovers, right?”

“Hahhh.” She massaged her head. “Seeing as you are an ill-mannered, perverted, dog of a man who keeps eye-fucking my wives, present and future, and I want to reward my thrall, who has been remarkably well-behaved given her nature, I’m not going to correct that disastrous ignorance of yours.

“On the other hand, I still have a conscience. Since it’s survived my wife’s attempts to destroy my morality, it is pretty stubborn. Too stubborn to abandon you to the fate of your own making, whether you deserve it or not. As such, I have laid down three rules for tonight.”

She held up a finger. “The first rule is time. No matter what, our deal is complete come sunrise. She can’t bargain for more time. You can’t bargain for more time. Also, she can only mess with your perception to a certain extent. By her request, I will not tell you how long she can hold your mind hostage but I can tell you that she cannot do so forever. Whatever happens, know that it will end…eventually.”

A second finger joined the first. “Second, she has to return you exactly as you were when she got you, down to every strand of hair. She can reduce you to an eyeball but when the sun rises, you must be whole and healthy.

“At least physically. I’ve extended some protections to your mind but, realistically, there is no way you are getting out of this unchanged, saints protect you. I can only promise that you won’t be utterly destroyed. So, there’s that.”

She shook her head as she raised a third finger. “The final rule is whole and a half. You accepted this deal looking for pleasure beyond this world. I don’t hate you enough to let you spend a small eternity being tortured and drowned in despair. Therefore, whole and a half.

“It’d be unfair to forbid her from torture outright and I do want you to realize how much of an idiot you are being. The rule states that any pain she inflicts must be matched by pleasure of at least half its intensity. If she rips your head off and forces you to watch abyss worms eat your body from the inside out, she has to do something really nice to make up for it. You’re welcome.”

“Aye, captain.”

“…you’re not paying attention to a word I’m saying, are you?”

Buzzed from the Herbanacle, Arthur found it difficult to focus on her blabbering. He’d heard the word “rules” and promptly zoned out. As long as he got what he came for, he wasn’t bothered by the details.

The worse a slip of a woman like Lou’s thrall could do to him was still a good time.

“Why did I even bother? Forget it, I’ve got a drunk saint to tuck into bed. Good luck, Arthur. You’re going to need it.”

She carelessly waved over her shoulder as she left the dining room. As she retreated, the candles in the holder over the table flickered. Once the noblewoman disappeared, they were all snuffed out except for one that struggled to hold back the eager darkness.

Arthur jumped as something brushed the side of his neck. A warm breath tickled his ear as a seductive voice purred, “Alone at last."