Kawa kneels on the ground, whimpering with her tail tucked between her legs. "Kawa wanted to surprise feed Loraine and Master in the morning!"
"What makes you think I want to eat this?" I ask, holding up the dead snake by its tail end.
Every single critter brought to me has large puncture wounds all over the bodies. A mix of slobber and blood oozes from the holes, some of it staining the beautiful bedsheets and cushions.
This is the most disgusting thing I could wake up to.
Loraine comes to Kawa's defense, hugging her from behind. "Kawa had good intentions. She's still new to living around people. I'm flattered she hunted a clytherian desert owl… though, these are quickly becoming extinct in Amarinth..."
"Don't encourage her." I throw my hands up in resignation. "I guess I should be lucky Kawa's already housebroken. Waking up to piss and shit every morning would be worse."
"Kawa makes sure to go in front of other people's doors!" she exclaims proudly.
"That doesn't inspire confidence, but better than our place."
There's a knock at the door. A dark elven girl, younger than Loraine, greets us with a stack of clothing in her arms. "The Emir would like to offer you the garbs of our culture. You will find them comfortable in the otherwise unbearable heat of Amarinth."
Loraine grabs an outfit and unravels it to a thin, sky-blue dress. It leaves her belly, shoulders, and much of her back exposed. A veil is worn around her neck, wrapping around her chest to the back, and then coming back to the waist where it forms the rest of the skirt. The way the fabric hangs against her hips make her waistline curves wider and appear more voluptuous.
It reminds me of the belly dancers' outfit from last night, but not as revealing.
"I never thought I would get to wear this again! How do I look?" she asks, twirling and eager to hear my opinion.
I take a good hard look and feel my face heat up. "Honestly, I'd rather you wear your regular clothes, but it looks like you want to wear this one."
The more I look at her, the more I have a hard time hating on Owyn. He's an asshole creepy who checks us out like we're a row of roast duck on a skewer rack, but if it wasn't for him being an asshole creep, I wouldn't have gotten to see Loraine in this.
He's still an asshole creep.
"Loraine! Loraine! We look alike!" Kawa shouts to Loraine, as she dresses herself in a similar garb.
Kawa's has a loop around her shoulders, and a loose shawl on her neck. Ornamental beads of gold and silver hang from the chest area, jingling lightly as she moves. She starts jumping around the room like an excited dog, but since she's in human form, all it's doing is making her breasts spill out.
"Kawa, don't jump around so much or your shawl will come off!" Loraine fixes Kawa's dress and fluffs out the hems at her feet.
"Okay." Kawa obediently stands still to let Loraine adjust her clothes, but all that energy went to wagging her tail instead.
I'm starting to see a familiar trend with Loraine and other people. She mothers Yui and Kawa a lot. Even when Yui was hostile to her, Loraine never hesitated to help her when she's hurt.
My ass lands on another dress when I take a seat on the bed. An ivory dress with gold embroidery along the hems. A fist-sized silver ring on the chest brings the fabric together, but barely covering my back. The skirt stops at the knees and has a long, flowing sash that emulates a cloak.
When I look up, Kawa and Loraine are staring right at me.
"Oh, no. I'm not wearing this," I declare, putting my foot down.
***
"I can't fucking believe I'm wearing this."
It's deja vu all over again when Mildred gave me the tavern dress.
"Seeing Micchi in a dress from my culture is a dream come true…" Loraine says, drooling from her mouth.
"Ain't this a little too breezy below the waist…?" I ask.
Loraine violently shakes her head. "Nonsense! It's not often I get to see your bare legs unless I'm down there—"
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"Don't say anymore!" I put a hand over her mouth, but she just ends up licking my palm.
When I pull away, her hands clamp around my face with a vise.
"Let me have my fill of you before we go downstairs," she says, licking her lips. Her hold on me is a lot stronger than I thought. I can't pry her hands off. It's then that I notice her arms glowing with magic. This hornbat just enhanced herself with magic to overpower me. "Mildred gave me some magic lessons— namely a powerful enhancement to empower strength."
That bitch!
"Wait, Loraine… not in front of— mmmrphhh!"
Once Loraine has her fill, we head downstairs to the main chamber where the Emir receives important guests. Owyn is in a meeting with a group of important-looking beastling and elves, dressed in silken regalia, every finger and earlobe adorned with oversized jewelry. It's like they're in competition over who's richer.
The discussion is filled with obscenities and finger-pointing. They complain to Owyn about defenses and monsters. The Emir himself is laying down on a lounging chair, propped up by his elbow and yawning into a hand.
Anya stands next to him, arms crossed with the same bored look until she sees us. She waves from her spot, but unwilling to step away from Owyn's side. Her eyes are trained on the men before him.
As we come in, one of the Emir's guests, a portly elf with a beard down to shit knees, shoves an empty glass into my hand. "Do not keep me waiting, servant. More wine!"
"Of course." I reach for the carafe carried by the servant he mistook me for and pour the wine on top of his head. The red liquid stains the white and yellow turban down to his robes. "Sorry, my hand slipped."
He can hardly believe what just happened. "Y-You bitch—!"
"Please, excuse her!" Owyn shouts, rising to his feet. "This woman is my guest and a participant of the Lannarkis Ring. My apologies gentlemen, but this meeting must be cut short. I shall arrange for us to meet again with better accommodations."
His guests leave begrudgingly. The one I spilled wine on grunts as he passes me on the way out.
Owyn prances up to us, eyes lingering uncomfortably long on Loraine until I step between them. She clings to my back with trembling fingers, and Kawa steps forward, lips pulled back to a quiet snarl.
"I'm glad you ladies have taken a liking to the dresses. It would be a shame to waste such beauty that should be accentuated with proper outfits," Owyn says, eyes scanning me up and down as he nods to himself.
Better me than Loraine, but it still feels disgusting.
"We're not here to be eye-candy," I say curtly.
"Of course not!" He retreats back to his seat, leaning forward with an elbow on his knee. "You are here to fight, but the trial is not for another two days. I do, however, have a bit of a problem I would like you to solve for me— nay, for Ash'tar."
I look over to Anya who shrugs and says, "Gargantuan sandworm. It's been terrorizing the bullmor and cactus fruit farms to the west. We want to take care of it before the end of the day."
"It is the least you can do for me after treating your prince to a meal and a place to stay, no?" he asks, grinning with palms open and daring me to refuse.
"You're patronizing the wrong girl. I don't play games."
When I clench my bat, Anya puts a hand on Owyn's shoulder. She cocks her head to one side, warning me not to try anything funny, so I loosen my grip on Sacchan.
"Let me take it from here, Owyn. You got other things to do," she says, nudging him towards the door.
"Ah, yes. I must prepare the coliseum. I am the host, after all!" he laughs on his way out, but not before getting an eyeful of Loraine from the back.
As soon as he's gone, Anya leans down to eye-level with me. "We each got our circumstances. You don't touch my benefactor, I don't touch yours."
I kick a nearby cup. "He's a cunt."
"I know." Anya pats me on the back and grabs a carafe of wine left behind by the servant as we leave.