“I don’t look like a whore.” I totally do.
His half-baked smile sharpens into a real grin, and I let him work his magic on my self-control, promising myself I’ll thank him later. Tomorrow, the day after, the next Solstice… never.
“A few moments?” he pries.
“No thanks necessary.” He looks me over. “On another note, you can show me that dress from behind, as a thank you.” His fingers intertwine with mine, and he spins me slowly. A low growl escapes his lips.
“Majestic.” Aidon takes me under his arm, leading me to the garden’s entrance.
“Happy Solstice, My Lady,” a servant greets me upon entering. The place is throbbing with music, bodies swaying in silk and shadow, gazebos spilling with laughter, wine, and promising touch. In the dim light, dancers move close, breaths mingle, and every corner hums with desire.
I have been here plenty of times, but I have never been able to stop my jaw from dropping. How is that possible? Is Santorili hiding a caster specialising in planning events?
I don’t want to believe it’s all because of Jestin. He is already cool. I don’t want him to feel even cooler in my head.
“I save the day, but he is cool because he throws a party, where is the justice in this realm?” Aidon mutters under his breath.
“The gardens look sublime.” I offer, and the servant smiles, ignoring my saviour.
Here. I say it. Saviour. Thank you.
We walk inside, the party already in full swing. I spot Jestin on a magically floating deck chair, speaking to a blonde woman with a red bracelet on her ankle, one of the females from his brothel. I hustle towards him, just in time to see her sucking his fingers.
A punch of something nasty burns in my stomach, but I force it to stay there.
Jestin turns to me with a huge, cocky grin. “Sels, would you like some wine?” He feeds the heifer a grape. I don’t want to see it, so I focus on the approaching servant.
“My Lady.” A young, beautiful male bows, as I take a glass from his tray.
“Enjoy the celebration,” I offer a blessing. He bows and scurries away.
Jestin is still busy. Instead of twisting the female’s ridiculously tall neck, I inhale the Fae wine, letting it ground me.
It’s the strongest drug in Rhodria. The strongest poison, if one wants to be specific.
Although wine production is a bit brutal, the effects are worth the effort.
Once a year, when the veil is at its thinnest, travellers jump between realms. Fortunately for humans, and unfortunately for wine connoisseurs, it happens only in the fall.
Earth is full of those foolish enough to strike bargains with the Fae. When the deal expires, they are dragged into Zeznia—a meticulously organised slaughterhouse, where we farm them for emotions; the very essence of the wine.
Some argue that exploiting humans like this might anger Jahwa. But their goddess is all about free will and nointervention, and we follow the rules, only taking those who bargain for their own lives.
That’s why the beverage is so potent. The farmers put the poor creatures through a range ofexercises.
Five centuries ago, only three basic brands were available for purchase: love, lust, and pain. Bringing only one-dimensional experience, but since the new owner took over the factory, he changed the whole industry.
Nowadays, the craziest mixtures are available.
I tried madness, panic, and homesickness once. It was a blast.
I inhale again, studying the aroma. I am sure that this particular one has lust and madness in it, with a healthy dose of nostalgia.
Must have been expensive.
“Don’t you think it’s… a little sinful?” Aidon moves closer, tilting my chin with gentle insistence so I can’t look away. “Drinking the life force of barely intelligent species?”
I hold his scarlet eyes, dropping my voice low so it hums with heat as I reply, “Personally… I don’t have many reservations. Humans trade their lives for fleeting mortal pleasures. What we do with them afterwards… is simply the price.”
