Lor tightened his grip on the pouch, a slow grin tugging at his lips.
So... it worked. She actually made profit. And she brought my cut straight to .
The realization sent a thrill through him, not just from the money but from the power it implied.
Ath, the untouchable ice queen, was entangled in his web now, whether she admitted it or not.
Kiara leaned closer, her curiosity piqued as she caught sight of the pouch.
Her eyes widened slightly, a rare crack in her usual confidence.
"Why are you carrying that much money? Lor, you’ll get robbed walking around with that."
He snapped the pouch shut, tucking it deep into his bag with a casual shrug.
"Not mine," he said,.
Kiara’s eyes narrowed, her lips pursing as she studied him. "Then whose?"
"Long story," Lor said quickly, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
He flashed her a grin, equal parts deflection and promise, the kind that always seed to disarm her.
"I’ll tell you on the walk ho."
The streets outside were bathed in the golden hues of dusk, the sky streaked with vibrant oranges and violets as the city wound down for the evening.
The air was thick with the savory aroma of grilled at, skewers sizzling over open flas at the market stalls that lined the cobblestone path.
The hum of vendors calling out their wares mixed with the chatter of passersby, creating a lively backdrop to their walk.
Lor stopped at a stall, handing over a few coins for two skewers, the at glistening with juices and flecked with charred spices.
He passed one to Kiara, who took it with a grin.
They ate as they walked, the juices dripping hot down the sticks, the flavors bursting with smoky heat.
Kiara licked her lips, savoring the taste, then tilted her head at him, her dark hair catching the dying light. "So. Ath, huh?"
Lor chuckled, chewing thoughtfully before answering.
"Yeah. Even she got tangled in it. Weird, silent woman, and sohow she’s delivering profits to now." He shook his head, half in disbelief, half in satisfaction, the weight of the pouch in his bag a constant reminder of his growing influence.
Kiara grinned, biting off a piece of at with a flash of teeth.
"I have to admit, Lor—you’re good. Even she couldn’t escape." Her tone was teasing, but there was a genuine admiration beneath it, a spark that made her eyes shine brighter.
He flushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck, the gesture almost boyish despite the confidence he’d been carrying.
"It’s... strange. Every ti you praise like that, I get embarrassed," he admitted, his voice softer, a rare mont of vulnerability slipping through.
Kiara’s grin turned wicked, and she leaned in suddenly, her breath warm against his ear.
"Then stop bagging new girls if you don’t want praising you," she whispered, her voice dripping with playful challenge.
Lor coughed, nearly choking on a piece of at, the skewer wobbling in his hand.
Kiara laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained, cutting through the hum of the city like a bell.
She bit the last piece off her skewer, tossing the stick into a nearby bin with a flourish.
Lor grinned despite himself, shaking his head as warmth spread through his chest.
Gods, I really am the luckiest man alive.
.
.
The evening air carried a soft chill, the streets dimming into lamplight glow as Lor and Kiara walked side by side.
The skewers were gone, only the sll of charred at lingering on their fingers.
Kiara tilted her head toward him, her dark hair falling like a curtain, icy blue eyes sharp with mischief.
"Weren’t you going to visit Viora and Myra?"
Lor blinked, then slapped his forehead lightly. "Oh, that’s right... but my mom told to co ho first. Said I was making her worried, wandering off too much."
Kiara smirked. "So the noble mothers will have to wait a little longer?"
Lor chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."
But the way her smirk lingered told him she wasn’t letting the subject drop.
"You know," Kiara murmured, brushing close enough for her shoulder to graze his arm, "it wouldn’t be too hard. Viora and Myra are best friends. Their mothers... even closer. If you wanted to bag the daughters and the mothers, it could all be done in one neat web."
Lor gave her a sidelong look. "You make it sound easy. Like they’ll just open their doors and legs for ."
"Not legs," Kiara corrected slyly, her lips curving. "Minds. Start with the rituals. Guidance for their studies. Guidance for their households. Once you’ve hooked the daughters deeper, the mothers will notice. Mothers are protective. Curious. Hungry for answers."
"Or suspicious," Lor countered, brow furrowing. "If they see hovering too much around both girls, they might cut off before I even reach the door."
Kiara humd thoughtfully. "Fair point. So maybe..." She tapped her chin, her breasts pressing against her folded arm in a way she knew caught his eye. "...start with the mothers. Hook them first. Then the daughters fall in deeper naturally."
Lor snorted. "That’s even riskier. Nobles are paranoid. If I go sniffing around the mothers without the daughters as cover, I’ll look like a creep—or worse, like I’m scheming. Which I am."
Kiara laughed, the sound low and rich. "You are a creep. But you’re my adorable creep." She nudged him with her elbow, and he flushed despite himself.
They kept walking, their footsteps falling into a comfortable rhythm as they traded ideas back and forth, each one more ambitious than the last.
Kiara’s suggestions were bold, almost reckless, but laced with a cunning that made Lor’s mind race.
He poked holes in her plans, pointing out flaws with a practicality that surprised even himself.
She, in turn, dismantled his more cautious ideas with a smirk and a quick retort, her wit as sharp as ever.
By the ti Lor’s house ca into view—a modest two-story building with warm light spilling from the windows—the only clear thing was how tangled and ambitious their plan had beco.
User Comments
0 comments from readers