The heavy doors sealed shut with a final boom that echoed across the chamber like a divine punctuation mark, casting the room into warm flickering silence. Outside, the gossip would spread like wildfire, carrying tales of inked skin and kneeling nobles. But inside? Inside was a different world now. One Allen had forged with sweat, sex, and defiance.
Lira remained where she knelt, eyes locked on Allen's back as he slowly stepped away from the dais, the five maids falling in around him like silk-clad shadows. His steps were slow, deliberate, and every footfall felt like a hammer nailing a new law into the bones of the temple.
Behind him, Fina and Rinni exchanged glances, that smug, knowing kind. They didn't need words. They didn't need permission. Rinni was already padding barefoot over to the velvet bench where the ink tools lay, plucking one between her fingers and twirling it like a wand. Fina followed suit, gliding to Allen's side, slipping her fingers into his.
