“Not tonight,” the woman gave a smile as her hand dropped from Layla’s breast, her smile tired. Reaching up, she gave Layla’s cheek an adoring stroke. “I would, but I have had seven Assignations today and I am fatigued. Though I would love to honor such a presence as you, Royal Dragon Bind. At a later time, perhaps.”
With that, she sank into a low curtsey, taking up Layla’s hand and pressing the softest kiss upon it. It lingered like moon-shadows beneath starlight, soothing and generous, and Layla sighed with an amazing kind of delight. She was still mesmerized as Sylvania stepped away, laughing like silver wind chimes as she was hailed from the bar. Layla stared after the Head Courtesan, watching such supreme elegance go and still tingling with the pleasure of having been caressed by such a creature. Like silver light still flowed through her from Sylvania’s fingertips, Layla felt soothed and sensual at the same time, a deep peace flooding her.
“Wow.” Layla breathed, amazed.
“You said it.” Rikyava was quiet at her side. “Sylvania is a treasure. She’s aSilav enamorati, a Silver Passion. They hail from the ninthVir, one of the Ascended Realms. As beings of pure light and love, her kind have been coveted as boudoir-slaves for millennia, and thus are nearly extinct. She can love even the most horrible monsters, and it’s healing for a lot of people. Not only is Sylvania our Head Courtesan, but she’s also our Head Priestess. She administers to the sick and dying. Many come here in their final hours, spending their last cent to die wrapped in Sylvania’s arms, listening to her sing and feeling her blessed nature as they pass.”
“You sound like you have personal experience of her generosity. Have you been with her?” Layla asked, glancing over to find Rikyava in a state of supreme wistfulness.
“Once.” A soft smile wisped over Rikyava’s face. “It’s a night I will never forget.”
A series of chimes issued out suddenly from the ballroom, pouring through the foyer like music on the wind. Rising from the couches, people began to migrate up the staircase to the ballroom, bringing their drinks with them. The chimes roused Rikyava out of her reverie and she squared her shoulders, turning to Layla and extending her arm.
“And that’s the bell for dinner. Shall we?”
“Lead on, o captain my captain.”
Layla accepted Rikyava’s arm and the Guardswoman escorted her across the ante-chamber, a number of heads turning and whispers surrounding Layla as she started up the grand staircase. Head high, she squared her shoulders in her elegant gown, feeling the silk and heavy beadwork slide over her bare legs as she walked. Though people stared, Layla channeled her grandmother tonight, feeling a sense of rightness and composure as she moved up the staircase on Rikyava’s strong arm.
But as they gained the upper landing, Layla’s soon-to-be-horrible-boss Dusk was suddenly there upon her other side – claiming her free arm with a wink. They entered the grand ballroom and with a rumbling cough, Dusk took over escorting Layla. Though she scowled, Rikyava let him, stepping behind with one hand on her rapier. It was clear the Head Guardswoman had lower standing at the Hotel than the Head Concierge, and Dusk smiled to take Layla into the enormous Egyptian-deco ballroom with its opulent mirrors and sparkling chandeliers.
Rakish with pleasure under the gaze of everyone present, Dusk navigated Layla through the ornately-decorated tables, settling her at the head table beside himself with Rikyava seated at the end. Layla was relieved to have Sylvania claim the seat upon her other side, the Head Courtesan pressing a reassuring hand to Layla’s thigh as she sat. The Head Courtier Reginald Durant came to the table in his ornate blue outfit from earlier, nodding to Sylvania as he claimed a seat two over – the center seat at the high table still empty and most likely reserved for the Madame.
A series of gongs sounded like an Indonesian gamelan orchestra in the back of the hall, and then the food began to arrive, carried in high on gilded platters.
CHAPTER 19 – DINNER
Adrian was not in the ballroom. Though Layla’s gaze perused every corner and table, she could not find him anywhere, and something about that made her heart sink. Her evening seemed suddenly darker despite all the luminous crystal chandeliers – that she wouldn’t get a chance to sit with him and learn more about the mystery that was Adrian Rhakvir. Layla mused on that as men and women in elegant catering uniforms with long black aprons came around, serving roast meats, chutneys, and strange-looking fruits from gilded platters. A cute blond caterer with hazel eyes pouredsilethwine into crystal chalices and Layla held up a hand quickly to decline. He moved on with only a mild nod at her refusal, but at her side, Dusk noted it and leaned in.
“So, Layla,” he began as if they were starting over in their acquaintance, no trace of rumble in his voice now. “Tell me about yourself. We’re going to be working quite closely together in the coming weeks and I’d like to know a little about you, other than what I’ve read in your dossier.”
“Fuck off, asshole.” Layla sassed, ready to be as impertinent as she had to be with her new boss. Taking up a bite of roast beef, she dipped it in a mustard sauce and began eating, the spice helping her recover from all the leftover pleasure still tingling through her.
“That’s not a very nice way to treat your new boss. I really do want to get to know you.” Dusk chuckled, again without rumble. Layla met his gaze as he put a cherry from his plate into his mouth and sucked it sensually before chewing. It suddenly made her furious and Layla rounded on him, a vicious heat whipping through her sinews.
“Rikyava was right – you are a pain in the ass. And if we have to work together, that’s fine. But know where you stand with me. You’re in the doghouse, pal. Try your shit on me again and get burned.”
“You’re not going to be able to stop me,” he chuckled, eyeing her. “You don’t even know how to use any of the power you have. What you did earlier was pure accident, striking me with your magic.”
“I’ll figure it out. Just give me time.”
Layla was about to rip him another one when the Madame arrived from a side-door, glorious in her tiger-cream gown. Sweeping up to the high table, she received a glass ofsilethwine, then tapped her crystal chalice with a fork. Talk silenced immediately. Heads turned, hundreds of eyes watching.
“Friends!” The Madame spoke in her Hollywood-dramatic alto, commanding the room. “I am pleased to welcome tonight a very great talent recently acquired from the rainy reaches of Seattle, in the United States of the Fourth Realm. Ms. Layla Price is a rare gem; exquisitely trained in languages, dedicated in her studies, and I am oh-so-pleased to welcome her as a new Concierge to be working under our esteemed Dusk Arlohaim. Please give Layla your assistance in the coming weeks. Help her settle in and extend her your friendship, and I am sure she will make the transition into her new life here with grace.”
The Madame gave a beaming nod to Layla, raising her glass as a chorus of “Hear, hear!” went up through the ballroom.
As everyone drank, Layla sipped her water. The Madame sat with a pleased smile to Layla, then turned to converse with Sylvania. Music was beginning, from a chamber orchestra like the one Layla had heard earlier. As some people continued to eat and chat, others were rising, couples migrating to a parquet floor at the far end of the massive ballroom and beginning an elegant waltz. Layla saw Rikyava rise, making a bee-line for her. Dusk cleared his throat and also began turning Layla’s way with a mischievous twinkle in his summer-blue eyes.
But before either Rikyava or Dusk could ask Layla to dance, the Head Courtier Reginald Durant stepped in with a flourishing bow – extending Layla his hand and pinning her with his iceberg-pale eyes.
“May I have the first dance?” Reginald spoke, direct.
Layla hesitated, watching Rikyava’s blonde eyebrows climb her forehead at the Head Courtier’s offer as she halted just steps away; even Dusk was blinking, his brows darkening into an astounded frown. Clearly, it wasn’t the norm for the Head Courtier to ask a new hire to dance.
Gazing up at Reginald, Layla knew her jury was still out on him – he’d seemed like a pompous dick when she’d first arrived, but he’d been almost tender in helping her control her magics when she’d erupted during her interview. Though he seemed severe, there was something level in his eyes as he stood there, patiently extending a hand and waiting like the consummate gentleman from two centuries gone.
Layla was almost certain that to deny the Head Courtier of the Hotel the first dance would be social suicide here. Taking a breath, she extended her hand and Reginald helped her rise graciously. But she had a worry suddenly and brushed her fingers behind to touch her beaded dress as she stood, hoping to god her gown wasn’t stained from her orgasm earlier.
