ARC 7-Cursed Fates-51
“Saints preserve him,” I mutter. After Lane’s dramatic exit, the room goes about its business, but tension lingers. Watching a tragedy unfold is uncomfortable, even if it has no bearing on my life. I hate that he had his heart crushed, I feel for the man, I do, but another part of thinks it’s his just desserts. What did he think he was doing, ambushing her like that? In a crowded room, no less. I can only guess that he wasn’t thinking.
And another, terrible part of is happy he was rejected. Thinks he’s not good enough for the redhead, despite knowing next to nothing about the man and thinking well of him after we talked in the garden. It’s sad but they don’t match my ideal when it cos to romance.
My lusty brain that craves the sight of beautiful won embracing one another is delighted that another beautiful woman isn’t going to be spoiled by the hairier sex. At least, not in front of my eyes. I hope. There’s still plenty of opportunity for the instructor to find company for the night. Hm. She never ntioned what her type is, just that Lane isn’t it.
“If Alyssa had to take soone here to bed, who do you think it would be?” I ask the air.
“If she has any taste, you,” Cloud imdiately reassures , flashing a wide grin when I look her way. What a friend.
“That is the na of the redhead?” Shake makes a thoughtful noise when I nod. “The moon and sun are forever intertwined, chasing each other across the sky.”
“…what?”
“People want what they do not have and opposites are drawn to one another. She is older, experienced, and aggressive. She would do well with a partner that is younger, a little naive, and submissive.”
“…like the man she just sent packing?”
“People also rarely choose what is good for them, instead running toward the opposite of what they need.”
“So, she needs soone like Lane but she’s going to choose the opposite? Soone just like her?”
“If I were to guess.”
“Then she likes people like herself. Older, experienced, aggressive. That sounds like my wife.”
“Or perhaps the friend she brought along.”
I look at the scruffy hunter and wince, my lusty brain cringing at the image the thought conjures. “Never mind that.” In the end, Alyssa’s romantic pursuits are her own business. Unless she propositions . I’d hardly refuse her, tonight of all nights. “A more important consideration. I need sothing else to keep my guests entertained.”
“That is easy.” Shake stands from the couch, drawing my eyes as she stretches. “I think it is ti to roast the pig.”
-
Never would I have imagined roasting a pig to be so complicated. Sure, I expected things to involve a little more than popping the hunk of at in an oven given its size, but the whole ceremony involved is shocking. The ladies, and single gentlen, from the Temple enthusiastically carry their at out to the garden, followed by Geneva and Bell, along with a few mbers of the crowd, drawn by the interesting sight.
The mbers of the Temple, the Templetees heh, bow their heads and, I think, pray over the massive hog as Geneva tears into it with sharp claws, expertly gutting the thing.
While she works, Earl cos out of the building with a bag of spices I can sll at a distance. Gajin is the next to co running, pushing a wheelbarrow in front of him, a shovel inside it. As my succubus continues to prepare the at, Earl shovels the unwanted parts into the wheelbarrow and my gardener disappears with it, hurrying deeper into the garden. I don’t think too deeply about what he’s going to do with that stuff.
Once the pig is cleaned up, Geneva rubs the spices all over it and the Templetees help her push the spit through its enormous body. Then it is hoisted onto two poles of solid earth with y-shaped ends. Earl appears with firewood, Bell quickly forming a wide pit for him to dump it into. The magical flas that set them alight make the Templetees cheer, but I have my doubts. There’s no way that enormous thing is going to be cooked all the way through from that fla, right?
[Of course not, my summoner. I imagine they are accustod to eating their at crispy on the outside and pink on the inside, but we can do much better. The fire is just for show. I will ensure the pig is cooked thoroughly with heat.]
Thank the saints.
To my amusent, they start to sing. Well, it’s less a song and more of a vigorous chant, led by Shake’s deep and powerful voice. That woman can really bellow when she puts her chest into it. The chanting is accompanied by clapping hands and stomping feet. It’s…unusual music but they’re enjoying themselves, swaying to the rhythm created by their rising and falling voices. All the while, Geneva handles the spit, turning the at for show while she magically cooks it.
It looks a little silly, but it’s glorious for the simple reason that it’s sothing I never thought I’d see. To think the day would co that I would have family and friends gathered under my roof, celebrating with at a casual whim. People of all walks of life coming together just because I invited them. Laughing and crying, in the case of poor Lane. Sharing themselves.
For a girl who grew up in an empty ho, fully believing I would spend my life alone, in every sense that matters, and unhappy, thanks to efforts of the Grimoires, this whole night has been a dream co true. And it doesn’t have to end here.
Sure, I’m a wanted woman that’s about to assault a noble, might have to go to war with the guilds, and definitely will have to wage war in the north next winter, but between all of that, I can throw another party and these wonderful people will co together to celebrate with again. When I’m not partying, I’ll be with my wives, one pending, who love , growing and learning.
Life…is good.
My mood is so good, I don’t fight when Cloud grabs by the hand and drags into their group. I even join in the chanting. It’s not hard, as the beat is simple and the chant is four lines. I have no idea what they’re saying, as they aren’t speaking Common, but given the smiles on their face, I doubt it’s sothing I’d be embarrassed to repeat. I give myself over to the energy, dancing and clapping alongside them.
To my amusent, Kierra joins in, dragging Talia with her. And of course, the addition of the flower turns the happy little chant into sothing artistic. My wife has feet blessed by the saints. Despite the lack of music, she twirls Talia around as if they are on a ballroom floor, both easily continuing the chant. Their energy spurs us on, our combined voices carrying through the empty night.
I’m a ball of feeling as the night progresses, the chanting turning to humming but the dance continuing. We only stop once the pig is finished cooking, slling as delicious as any other food Geneva lays her hands on.
Shake produces a knife and proceeds to cut away slabs of at, handing them out. The Templetees devour the at like hungry dogs, tearing into it with snapping jaws while juices sar their chins and fingers. It’s a wild and savage display, interspersed with groans of pleasure. A sentint I understand once I get my own taste of the pig. A succubus never disappoints.
Despite the ample food, no one from inside cos to claim their share. I understand. They’ve been gorging themselves all night. It may be a good thing as the animals slowly ridding themselves of their human guises decimate the poor pig, tearing into it with a gluttony that could almost rival my unparalleled ability to consu in my ooze form. When their bellies are full and their eyes lidded, Shake, the leader of their group, finally says the words I’ve been waiting for all night.
“Shall we go to bed, sister?”
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