“Where did you get this shirt? You must introduce me to your tailor. It’s classy yet…provocative.” Several minutes and several more drinks later and the situation has deteriorated. Well, it depends on who you ask. I think things are going good. People are talking, eating, drinking, laughing, and genuinely having a good time. Most of them. There are two guests who don’t seem to be enjoying themselves as much as the others.

The first is Michael. The poor boy is out of his depth. From the looks of things, Gabriel overestimated his tolerance and is the first to fall prey to the shroom juice, his head lolling to the side as he holds his glass in loose fingers. Lucky for him I saw this coming. Geneva mixed together something to perk up the guests that start to slow down while the night is still young.

The second person who doesn’t seem to be enjoying themselves is Farran. A little more conversation has clarified the relationship between the two of them. Specifically, that there is no relationship.

Cynthia is not a conventional woman by any means. She has multiple partners that she uses and refuses on a whim. Her whims seem to be leaning toward me tonight. The longer her flirting goes unchallenged, the more bold she becomes. And the bolder she becomes, the more upset her date becomes.

With the drink dulling his reason and Cynthia getting dangerously close to fondling me as she runs her hands over my shirt, I’m pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before things escalate.

“Kierra designs my wardrobe. A hobby of hers.”

“Mm. That explains the fit. She must know your measurements very well.”

The alchemist’s hand finally breaches propriety, circling around to my back before dropping to my ass and, unlike her previous touches, it lingers. “What are you doing?” I mutter, chuckling as the fingers squeeze. “I’m not your date.”

“And?”

“I’m married.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with it so why should I?”

“My wife may have a problem with you.” Our little interactions are fun and all but it’s best to be clear about things before it’s too late. Kierra and Talia will be joining the party any moment. I’d hate for the alchemist to lose her hand for being too friendly.

“Ah. So, I should be seducing two women instead of one. Or is that three? Four? Talia doesn’t seem like the possessive type but then again, if you had asked me before she met you, I would have said she wasn’t the type for anything.”

Huh. “Why?”

The hand on my ass moves up, grabbing my shoulder for balance as she stands on the tips of her toes to whisper in my ear. “I want to know what’s brought so many powerful women to your bed. Do you want to show me Lou?”

“I don’t fucking believe this,” Farran mutters over his glass.

Before I can respond to either one of those statements, footsteps prompt me to look over my shoulder. I smile as my wife and mistress descend, drawing another pair of eyes with each step.

While Talia has a growing interest in fashion, it’s a rare thing for Kierra to dress up. Though she hasn’t really dressed up. Her long brown skirt and loose white blouse is very casual but different from what she usually wears. Her long silver hair is braided and a delicate silver chain hangs around her throat.

She’s always beautiful but she looks softer tonight. More approachable, which I think is the intent behind her choices. Talia is the perfect complement, dressed in a white robe with silver flowers along the arms. Her long, black hair is pinned in a tail by a silver butterfly ornament, as precious as she is.

“Good evening, everyone,” Kierra announces as she comes off the last step. “I welcome you to my home. So, please stop insulting me with your—" Her lips turn up in a smirk. “—reticence. It is far too quiet for this to be a party hosted by an Atainna.”

“Here, here!” I call, separating myself from Cynthia. I pick up two glasses of wine and carry them over. “We were just waiting for you.”

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“How sweet.” Kierra takes the glasses, offering one to Talia. The gardener watering her flower. “Then let us not waste any more time.” My wife leans forward and slowly breathes in. “I smell a bitch in heat on you, my love.”

How far we’ve come. After we were first married, such a comment would leave me stiff as a board, eyes frantically scanning her expression for disapproval. Later, approval. Now, I just smile, comfortable with who, and what, we are. “Does she smell good?”

Kierra chuckles. “Nowhere near as delicious as you, but tonight is a night of indulgence.” Her finger lifts my chin before tapping my lips. “A treat for you, Lou. Tonight, for only tonight, the answer is yes.”

“Yes?” My eyes widen at the implication. “Yes to anyone? To everyone?”

Her answer is to take a drink from her wine and stride across the room to the small stage. “Flower.”

Talia answers her call immediately. Kierra holds out her hand and our mistress takes it, allowing herself to be helped onto the small stage we’ve set up. Earl, who is currently taking a break, bows his head and prepares himself to play again. While the three of them talk about the impending performance, I make my way back to the drinks table. “You’re all in for a treat. Our flower has the voice of a saint. Or what a saint should sound like.”

“Talia sings?” Alyssa asks, looking up from her conversation with her hunter friend, at the same time Cynthia asks, “Flower?”

“She does. And yes, flower.”

The alchemist chuckles. “To think the day would come when I heard Umphrieltalia given a pet name. I’m already glad I came.”

“You’ve seen nothing yet.”

The three of them finish their discussion by the stage. Kierra steps back as Earl begins to play. There are a few catcalls from Arthur’s group that the pirate-son quickly silences. Talia hums a few notes, drawing the gazes of anyone not already paying attention. Then she starts to sing.

I recognize the lyrics. It’s common enough in taverns all over the kingdom and a favorite of bards. A story about a young boy, as is usual for these tales, that sets off from his home of common origins to pursue wealth and fame. While heading for the capital, he comes across a fair maiden. A young noblewoman, waiting by the road as her servants repair a broken wheel on her carriage. The boy is immediately smitten but the lady wants nothing to do with him.

From that moment on, the lady becomes the boy’s motivation. He slays fearsome monsters, defeats powerful warriors, and becomes a man of great renown. And after each amazing feat, he asks for the lady’s hand in marriage, but she always refuses. No matter how much prestige he wraps around himself, all the lady can see is the dirty village boy stumbling down the King’s Road.

I sigh as Talia’s haunting voice brings the story to life like no one has ever before, my heart softly aching with the emotion she invokes. When she finishes, the room erupts in enthusiastic applause. Talia bows before taking Kierra’s hand and stepping off the stage. Earl continues to play, an upbeat song that’s a perfect background to the suddenly excited atmosphere.

“I always liked that song.”

“I wouldn’t imagine you a fan of tragic love,” Cynthia says.

“It’s tragic but it’s beautiful. The hero remains devoted to his first love, even after he’s strong enough and wealthy enough to have any woman he wants.” Loyalty is a beautiful thing. Perhaps even more than beauty itself. After all, it was Alana’s steadfast loyalty that made me fall in love with her.

“Is that what you think that song is about?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask, hearing the teasing in her tone.

Cynthia chuckles. “I don’t hear a song about loyalty. Why did the young hero leave his home? He wanted fame and fortune, but why? Humans do not need either of those things to be healthy and fulfilled. They want them. But how can they want something they’ve never experienced? They cannot. They can only detest what they already have. Our young hero was no starry-eyed youth eager to pursue a grand future. He was a bitter, jealous son of a farmer or some such who was unsatisfied with who he was and his lot in life.

“This bitter young man aspires for the life of a hero not to be a hero but to be anything but what he is. On the road, he meets the lady. Is it love that draws him to her? Or is it infatuation? Obsession? She embodies everything he wishes he was. In the kingdom, marriage is how two families are unified. To obtain her favor is to cast away his common past for good.

“That, Lou, is why he cannot give up on his so-called love. Because as long as he cannot convince her he is someone great, he cannot believe he is someone great. It is a tragic love story, but not of romantic love, but self-love. Who can love us if we do not love ourselves?”

Something in the alchemist’s soft smile hints at her many years of experience as she directs it at me. “It doesn’t matter how powerful a dragon is if it believes itself to be nothing more than a flying lizard. The reason why the lady never accepts the boy, no matter what he accomplishes, is because she finds his lack of self-confidence and ambition thoroughly unattractive. So unattractive the gold he drapes himself in, the beasts he slays, and the honors he obtains don’t mean a damn thing. Confidence, Lou. In self. In purpose. It goes a long way.”

“…certainly a different message.”

“Oh, and there’s one more. Pretending to be something you’re not only leads to tragedy.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Only that the opposite also applies. Embracing who you are is the key to happiness.” Her smile turns mischievous.

Explicit agreement from Kierra. Nonchalance from Alana but I know she likes to watch. Mm. Tonight is a night to leave worries behind and indulge. To live without fear of tomorrow.

“Cynthia. I hope you don’t mind me being informal.”

She catches onto the change in my demeanor immediately. “You can be as informal as you like, darling.”

“It should be a while before Talia’s next song. Care to take a walk in the garden?”