The Masquerade and a Tell-Tale Mark

The carriage traversed the wide, opulent city thoroughfare.

Its wheels, grinding over the brick seams, caused the entire cabin to sway with a rhythmic undulation.

Saranya leaned an arm against the tightly shut window, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

Behind her, Kaelan hummed a soft tune, completely unclad as she meticulously selected a ball gown to her liking from the wardrobe.

Saranya, ever perceptive, had not once, in the days that followed, broached the subject of that night at the manor when she had surrendered herself to her mistress, engaging in ‘mama play’.

Kaelan, for her part, seemed to have willingly erased the memory, reverting to her usual demeanor, her small face taut, imperiously ordering Saranya about as her mistress, as if nothing untoward had ever transpired between them.

Yet, the effects of that ‘mama play’ were undeniably present.

At the very least, Saranya had noticed a significant improvement in her mistress’s temperament since then.

“Was your meeting with Kalima Morrigan successful?”

Kaelan’s voice was languid, tinged with a faint drowsiness, as her pale form swayed gently, rustling the fabrics with a soft swish.

“It was successful.

Vireta, that child, performed admirably, and Kalima expressed great sympathy for the current plight of the Knights.

She confirmed her intention to become the Moon-Marked Sect’s bishop and even proactively offered to negotiate with the City Council, hoping to persuade them to lift the blockade on the cathedral and reclaim the church’s core properties.”

“Is there much hope?”

“Hope… is rather slim.

Lucius will undoubtedly obstruct us at every turn.

Nevertheless, we can at least demonstrate our stance to the council: that the church, as the victim, retains the right to reclaim its property and oversee the investigation into the murders of the voting officials.”

“’Investigation,’ you say, but Lucius surely knows that Mejga is the culprit behind the murder of the voters.

That scoundrel cares not for the killer; he merely seeks to leverage the Weinshield family’s influence within the council to perpetually occupy the cathedral.

This would cripple the church’s operations, strip it of its primary income, and cause us immense trouble.”

“Indeed, regardless, let us first focus on this ball.

The so-called esteemed guests in the Tidal Mirror Hall are masters of feigned elegance.

We must adorn ourselves splendidly, ensuring we sparkle with jewels, lest those wealthy merchants and nobles discern any flaw.”

From behind, a soft patter of footsteps drew closer to Saranya, the sound of her mistress’s bare feet padding directly on the carriage floor.

“Wear this.”

Kaelan presented an oversized, double-layered cloak, its exterior embroidered with imperial court-style lily patterns in gold thread.

The interior, lined with velvet, felt wonderfully warm and was ample enough to conceal Saranya’s full armor, trailing a considerable length behind her, thereby exuding an air of dignified opulence.

“Here, fasten this cat’s-eye brooch.

And… this…”

Saranya found herself encircled by jewelry boxes, transformed into Kaelan’s life-sized doll, adorned with glittering finery according to her mistress’s whims.

Kaelan rose onto her tiptoes to drape the cloak over her and secure the brooch, then chose a pair of octagonal sapphire earrings for her, followed by an elegant silver amber necklace around her neck.

“Mistress… I’m unaccustomed to wearing so much—”

“Silence, and endure it.”

“Ugh…”

Once the attire and jewelry were settled, Kaelan gently pushed Saranya away, then stepped back a few paces to survey her from head to toe.

“Excellent… And remember to wear your veil when we disembark shortly…”

Even feeling satisfied, Kaelan was not yet finished with her.

She pulled open the vanity drawer, gathered an array of bottles and jars, and approached Saranya once more, dabbing a touch of blush onto her cheeks.

Then, lifting Saranya’s chin, she proceeded to apply a sticky layer of lip gloss.

Her mistress, too, wore a delicate touch of makeup, her cheeks and lips imbued with a hint more color than usual, rendering her utterly captivating.

Saranya remained motionless, her pupils reflecting her mistress’s exquisite face.

Her mistress was so close, diligently enhancing her beauty, her eyelashes fluttering subtly, her breath coming in even rhythms, carrying an intoxicating fragrance that drifted repeatedly into Saranya’s nostrils.

“Mistress… you look so… unfair…”

“Hm? Heh heh…”

As if sensing her unspoken desire, her mistress curved her lips into a radiant smile.

“What is it… hmm?”

“Kaelan… Kaelan…”

Saranya, utterly dazed, felt her heart pound wildly in her chest.

Her lips parted slightly, and she leaned her head forward, poised to press against her mistress’s small mouth.

“Nah… you can’t, or the lip gloss will smudge~”

With a soft chiding sound, Kaelan pressed a fingertip to Saranya’s forehead, gently pushing her head aside.

Saranya’s eyes warmed, becoming tearful.

“Alright, alright…”

The delectable, honeyed lips were right before her, yet she couldn’t taste them, a deprivation that almost brought tears to her eyes.

Resigned, she had no choice but to abandon the thought, her expression bitter, enduring a torment amidst the rosy atmosphere until the carriage finally reached its destination.

‘No, her mental state couldn’t remain this adrift!’

‘A masquerade ball, the Shadowscale Gang, Lenix—she had crucial business to attend to at the Tidal Mirror Hall today!’

“Wait—”

Once the carriage came to a halt, Saranya quickly stepped into her unfamiliar high heels, rose, and pulled open the door.

She had already extended a leg out when Kaelan, as if suddenly remembering something, abruptly seized her arm from behind.

Saranya withdrew her leg, utterly bewildered by the situation, as Kaelan’s warm, damp breath neared her ear.

Kaelan leaned in, her mouth closing over Saranya’s amber pendant.

With a gentle tug, Saranya was compelled to tilt her head back, revealing the smooth, alabaster curve of her neck.

“Hah, mmph…!”

Her mistress pressed her lips against Saranya’s skin, capturing the tender flesh.

After savoring Saranya’s delightful gasp, a flicker of greed danced in the witch’s eyes as she heavily sucked a few times, planting a petal-like hickey on her neck.

“They need to know you are claimed, to deter any blind lechers from bothering you…”

The bruise was small and delicate, encased by the sticky imprint of lips, resembling a fresh, ripe strawberry.

As a breeze swept over the lingering moisture, a cool sensation made Saranya shiver.

“Ugh… didn’t you say you were afraid of smudging your lip gloss…?”

Saranya exhaled a soft puff of white mist, gently protesting Kaelan’s domineering act.

Kaelan, however, remained unperturbed, calmly reapplying her lip color in her seat, and responded with an air of unassailable justification,

“Only I may do such a thing; you may not.”

“How could you…”

Saranya turned her head to gaze out the carriage window, watching the elegantly dressed lords and ladies pass by on the street.

Her face flushed crimson, and a subtle sense of shame gradually bloomed within her heart.

Under the curious gazes of passersby, she hastily concealed her burning neck, then stumbled out of the carriage.

Turning to face her mistress, she kept her head bowed low, daring not to utter a sound.

Kaelan descended lightly, stopping before Saranya to fasten a black masquerade mask onto her face, before donning one herself.

“Mmm.”

“Be bold, little Saranya; no one will recognize us.”

‘What did her mistress say?’

‘No one would recognize them…’

With half of Saranya’s face hidden beneath the mask, a certain switch in her mind seemed to flip in that instant.

She finally began to grasp why so many nobles reveled in such masquerade balls, and why so many debauched scions willingly embraced lives of depravity and libertinism.

“Yes, that’s right… After all… no one will recognize us…”

After a moment of hesitation, she lowered the hand that had been covering her neck, allowing the provocative hickey to be exposed to everyone’s view.

‘It was so shameful, yet… so thrilling as well…’

The last vestiges of Saranya’s warrior demeanor vanished beneath that small mask.

She swallowed, trembling with a strange delight, feeling as if she could barely walk.

She had utterly transformed into a beautiful, alluring, and somewhat demure VIP guest.

“Have you come to terms with it?”

“Mmm…”

Seeing her in this state, Kaelan couldn’t help but cover her mouth with a soft chuckle.

She extended an arm towards Saranya, who immediately clasped it obediently, and together they stepped into the luxurious brothel before them.

“Precisely that expression, little Saranya; maintain it… You’re adapting remarkably quickly…”

****

As the two stepped into the grand hall, in a shadowy corner at the rear of the opulent building, lay two elegantly dressed noblewomen.

Several grey-robed figures had just completed their task and were now performing the final cleanup.

“They managed to get in, didn’t they?”

“It appears so.

Our forged invitations should pose no issue.”

“Indeed, when has our Shadowscale Gang ever failed?”

“Right then, you two, change into women’s clothing and lure two more foolish guests, a male and a female.

Soon, we’ll also need to help Aivy and her man slip inside.”