“Lie down,” Dago said.

In other circumstances, the woman sitting on the other side of the bed would probably have raised an eyebrow at his command. Her frustration must have quelled any indignation his actions might have sparked, however, because Hera rose from her seat wordlessly, let her dress fall to the floor, and slid onto the bed. In other circumstances, he might have smiled at the speed with which she transformed from a domineering harpy into a submissive, touch-starved woman, but now he was too aroused to revel in his triumph.

Hera Galenos lay before him in only her panties, curious and willing. He couldn’t let this opportunity pass him by.

Without breaking eye contact, he approached and sat on the edge of the bed. He thought he couldn’t get any harder, but when his hand cupped her round breast and her lips quivered as if they couldn’t wait to let out a moan, he discovered he was wrong. The electrifying shiver that ran through him brought his throbbing lust dangerously close to the verge of explosion.

“I have an idea,” he said in a quiet voice, rubbing her nipple with his fingers. “I would like to use your breasts just like I was using my hand. Do you agree?”

The puzzlement in her eyes told him she had never done anything like this before. Her blush revealed that he had touched the edge of her shame with his question. Her held breath betrayed her hesitation.

But her lips said “yes.”

Dago didn’t wait for her to change her mind. He shifted and knelt over her so her body was between his legs. He put his cock on her chest and started massaging her breasts and himself at the same time.

The blush on her face deepened, but she didn’t protest. From the small movements of her body, he could tell that she was probably clenching her thighs. He considered suggesting that she use her hand, but then he remembered her earlier frustration and her confession from a few weeks ago.

Sex doesn’t bring me pleasure.

If the woman couldn’t satisfy herself, it meant…

The curse that escaped his lips turned into a silent moan as he rolled over at the last minute and flooded his hostess’ bed with a white stream of lust.

Sweet nightmare… If he became this excited every time they were close, instead of being the only one who could satisfy Hera Galenos, he would be the one who had satisfied her only once.

When he’d calmed down, he lifted his head and looked at the woman. She watched him with interest, propped on her elbow.

“That was an exception,” he said. “Usually, I can stand much longer.”

The corners of her lips curled up. “Mhm.”

Dago narrowed his eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Mhm.”

He moved closer and pushed her, not hard, but enough to make her land on a pillow. Before she could come up with something other than surprise, he pinned her arms above her head and pressed his lips against her. Her body tensed as if she was going to push him off, but instead she parted her lips and let him penetrate her…

He broke off before he got too excited by her submission.

“Now your turn,” he breathed out. Seeing the question in her eyes, he leaned away and lay next to her. “Kneel over me and lean against the wall.”

When she realized his intention, her cheeks colored with shame again, but that time at the seaside must have left a good impression on her because she didn’t hesitate for long. She raised herself up carefully, took off her panties, and did as he suggested.

He welcomed the sight of the moist crevice between her legs with satisfaction. To make a pussy wet before touching it was an art that only a few mastered.

“Lower.”

When she obeyed shyly, he grabbed her soft buttocks, pinning her in place, and slipped his tongue between the folds of her desire. She quivered, and he felt a shiver too. Her scent and taste reached far beyond his tongue and nostrils. They pressed against the hard wall of his self-control, reached his deepest desires, awakened dormant instincts…

He felt hunger, and to satisfy it he had to lick and suck. The trembling movements and muffled moans of the woman towering over him were good, but he wanted more. He must have more.

More.

More.

MORE.

“Ah!”

A wave of female arousal washed over his tongue. He licked off every last drop, intoxicated by the taste and success. When Hera shakily rose up and sat down next to him, he couldn’t hide his triumph.

Or rather, he didn’t want to hide it.

“If you want to have sex in public places without being discovered, you have a lot of work ahead of you, sweetpearl,” he said.

He lay on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, then cupped her breast and stroked her skin with his thumb. She tensed but didn’t protest. Her bashful acceptance combined with the defiant glint in her eyes pleased him on more than one level. He’d met many women, from shy virgins to wanton nymphs, but none of them made such an impression on him. Shyness too often bordered on passivity, and carefreeness deflected from submission. Finding the golden mean seemed impossible… until now.

“I won’t have sex in public places,” Hera said.

“Even after the wedding?” He smiled when she didn’t answer right away. “We need to set the date, then.”

She grabbed his hand to pull it away but he held her fingers, squeezing them lightly as if they had just struck a deal. The sight of their clasped hands must have seemed even more strange to her than it did to him, because she fell silent for a long moment.

“Do you really want it?” she asked finally, meeting his eyes again.

“Yes.”

Instead of being happy, she frowned. “But really really?”

He examined her face. “You’re thinking about love again?”

He guessed from the way she looked away that the question embarrassed her more than anything he’d said that evening.

“What if during those three years, you meet someone you fall in love with?” she asked.

“Nothing.” When she looked at him with surprise, he cocked his eyebrow. “I thought we already agreed that love and marriage are different things. Even if I start having senseless feelings toward another woman, which is unlikely, she’ll have to wait until the end of our contract.” He tightened his grip and lowered his voice. “If you’re counting on me to release you from your oath when you suddenly feel attracted to someone, I advise you to stop. If you violate the terms of the contract, you can be certain that I will hold you responsible.”

She was silent, staring at him as if she didn’t know what to think of him. He could understand her; he didn’t know what to think about himself either. He had never felt such a need to control a woman to such an extent.

Mine, whispered the instinct that usually awoke at the sight of gold.

Dago rose to a sitting position, releasing her hand and sliding his fingers into her brown locks. “As we agreed earlier, I informed my parents about our arrival. They expect us in a week. When we return, we will publicly announce our engagement and wedding date. Any objections?”

Hera’s answer resembled a whisper. “No.”

He smiled, content. “Good.”

Nothing tasted as delicious as making a reluctant woman change her mind.

Hera needed a minute to confirm that Dago was being serious.

“That’s perfidious.”

“Only if it comes to that.” He smiled nonchalantly. “If you earnestly fulfill your marital obligations, there will be nothing to fear, right?”

Hera didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. His suggestion was as horrible as it was sensible. Being in a relationship with him might not be easy, but it was still better than being obolless or, dream forfend, being his subordinate.

She couldn’t think of a better incentive for keeping the terms of the contract.

“That’s perfidious,” she repeated. “Even for you.”

“And yet you don’t protest,” he noted, taking a step toward her.

Her heart lurched, then started a strange pounding dance. She didn’t protest, indeed. Instead of stepping away when Midais released her wrists, she let him lift her hands and press them against the wall on either side of her head. Instead of turning away from him when he leaned in, she parted her lips and let his tongue inside.

Unlike when he’d kissed her for the first time on the moonlit island, she didn’t freeze, paralyzed by indecision.

Their tongues clashed. The sparks caused by their friction teased her skin, making it more sensitive. She felt warmth radiating from Dago’s body, but he wasn’t as close as she wanted. She tried to tear her hands away from the wall to pull him closer, but he only tightened his grip on her wrists, holding her in place. He must have understood her intention, however, because he moved closer so that her breasts were rubbing against his torso.

An electrifying wave rolled through her body. Her nipples hardened and the desires tingled her skin, tangling into a tight knot at the bottom of her stomach. She pressed her tongue against his as if to fight him. She attacked once, twice, but he didn’t want to submit, and eventually the lines between fighitng and dancing blurred.

Blood buzzed in her ears. Thoughts swirled in her head. A fire smoldered inside her body.

Fight or dance?

Never mind.

Just let him continue.

Just…

Dago tore away from her mouth. “What do you want?” he murmured. He brushed her jaw with his lips, then her neck. “What do you want me to do?”

Hera wanted many things, but there was one thing she wanted so badly that even shame couldn’t stifle the words that rose in her throat like lava in a volcano.

“I want to see you satisfying yourself.”

He went still for a moment, then straightened and looked at her carefully. Despite the blush burning her cheeks, she didn’t lower her gaze. She’d had enough of being the one to lose control. She wanted Midais to suffer as much as she did.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Is that your biggest fantasy or the one you started dreaming of only recently?”

“That should be the least of your worries.”

His quiet laugh was as much of a surprise to her as the pleasant tickle of satisfaction in her chest. Candy dream, she didn’t like the sound of his voice, did she?

He released her hands and stepped back. “Lead the way, sweetpearl.”

At the sight of his cheeky smile, she was tempted to tell him to undress and kneel there. Instead she listened to common sense, which reminded her that the only thing separating them from the street was a door. Trying not to wonder what someone accustomed to luxury might think of her small, sparsely furnished house, she led him to the upstairs bedroom. She lit the lunar lamp in the corner with a spell and drew the curtains over the windows, then sat down on the only armchair in the room as if it were a throne. She gestured at the bed, which took up most of the space, and said to the man watching her every move, “Make yourself comfortable.”

His eyes didn’t lose even an obol of cheekiness. “If you want me to mess up your sheets, you could at least provide me a good view.”

“I thought that providing a good view was your task.”

He laughed and reached for the buckle of the metallic belt over his robe. “All right. I’ll wait until your gorgon mood passes.”

When the movement of his fingers caught her eye, the retort on the tip of her tongue slipped into oblivion. This wasn’t the first time she would see Dago Midais naked, but the first time he would undress for her and not despite her, which had happened several times during their school days when practicing his daimonic form was more important to him than civility. True, there had been that time a few weeks ago when she’d fallen for Dorian’s prank and gone into the bathroom while he was taking a bath, and then a few days ago when they’d been at the seaside, but that also fell into the “despite” category.

Dago unbuckled his belt and let his clothes fall to the floor, and Hera suddenly doubted the brilliance of her idea. She wanted to see the man lose control while maintaining it herself, but the tingling warmth spreading through her body betrayed her ideals just as the man’s stiffness betrayed his arousal…

“Irony of fate, isn’t it?” Dago spoke up. He wrapped his fingers around his lust and slowly moved his hand up and down. “When we were hormone-amped teenagers, we were at each other’s throats. Now, instead of being at each other’s throats, we behave like hormone-amped teenagers.”

Hera didn’t reply. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the hypnotizing dance of his hand.

“Though I might be wrong,” he said after some thought. “There is still a possibility I finish in your throat.”

She forced herself to look him in the eye.

“I didn’t mean today,” he added with a nonchalant smile, without stopping the intimate caress. His gaze wandered down her loose dress. “Today I will be content with the sight of your breasts, which I’ve imagined every day since I touched them.”

Hera hesitated. This wasn’t how she planned it, but she found no reason to reject his suggestion. Whatever put him on edge…

She reached for the round metal clasp on her left shoulder.

“I have a theory,” Dago said, following her hand with his gaze. “I think…”

Hera removed the ring clasp and slid the fabric of her clothes down her chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She hadn’t expected a visitor at this hour, after all.

“I think,” he took up after a long pause, his voice lower, “that if we had done what we do now as teenagers, our lives might have turned out differently.”

Unable to stop herself, Hera moved her gaze over his body, from his pronounced facial features to the hard muscles of his torso and the slender fingers stroking the equally hard line of his desire.

“You didn’t desire me then,” she said. For some reason her throat was dry, and her voice sounded hoarse.

“I didn’t desire you consciously until I started considering this possibility. Wasn’t it the same for you?”

She swallowed, struggling to tear her gaze away from the fascinating movements of his fingers. “Are you suggesting that we always desired each other?”

He’d said that once. That time he’d used his Charm on her to entice her to share information. She’d thought the lust she felt was magic, but he’d said otherwise.

My Charm only makes unconscious desires surface. You didn’t feel anything that wasn’t already inside you.

Back then, it’d scared her so much that she’d run away. Now… Now a lot of things made sense.

“I’ve met many women,” Dago said, looking her in the eyes, “but I’ve never wanted to marry anyone. How else can I explain that I’m now ready to lock myself in a gilded cage with you, if it wasn’t you who I really wanted?”

Hera swallowed again to moisten her throat. “I met with men who were your opposite,” she confessed, not knowing why she was doing it.

His hand stopped. “Did you find fulfillment with any of them?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“So back then, by the seaside, that was your first orgasm?”

When she nodded, a hint of satisfaction crossed his face. His gaze roamed over her breasts and his hand resumed its movement.

“Touch yourself,” he said suddenly.

Not thinking, Hera covered her right breast with her left hand. She massaged it, kneaded, teased a nipple with her finger…

“Touch them both,” Dago rasped.

Overwhelmed by sensations coming from the depths of her body, she unconsciously tightened her legs. She listened, but this advice didn’t bring her relief. Touching herself wasn’t the same as being touched…

When he told her to lie down on the bed, she saw no reason to refuse.

Have you cooled off enough to talk sensibly?

When Hera burned this ogreish letter that Midais had the nerve to send her just a day after their date, she suspected it wouldn’t be the last one she would receive. What she didn’t expect were her own reactions to his messages.

You know that not answering logically to a logical question is nightmarish behavior?

She burned that letter too, but this time her flames weren’t fueled solely by anger. She wanted to believe otherwise, but that ghoulish ghoul had a small point.

Do you really want us to be rivals?

Five minutes passed before she destroyed this message. She remembered the reason she’d agreed to enter into this arrangement in the first place. If the majority of society still saw him mainly as a philanderer instead of a responsible statesman, then the role of Archmagus would be assigned to her. And she would have to give up her healing career on behalf of boring politics. The argument still seemed just as nightmarish to her… but it lost with the anger that flooded her at a crucial moment of internal conflict. If Midais wanted to improve his reputation, why didn’t he improve it for real?

Hera, let’s talk. Please.

This time, she thought for a full hour before turning the roll of papyrus into a burnt offering. “Please” was not “I’m sorry,” but it might have been a sign of remorse. Still, “please” was not the same as “sorry.”

For the next two days, Midais didn’t send any letters. It annoyed her. Was it so difficult to write “I’m sorry?”

Then her irritation grew, but this time she herself was the reason. Was she really going to forgive him for an attempt at manipulation that might lead people to think she was unvirtuous?

At this point, she wondered. Why should she be so scared of people finding out about her sexual experiment? After all, everyone could experience a moment of weakness. Why should it devalue all of her past work and detract from her future endeavors?

Finally, she got into a flap. Drops, she wouldn’t start thinking about the scenario when no one found out about anything because she managed to stay silent at a crucial moment… would she?

The next week was devoted exclusively to work. She did not wonder why Dago hadn’t written another letter, and she wasn’t at all concerned that the man might have completely given up on his original plan.

She. Did. Not. Care.

She didn’t care about anything.

Except work.

Work never betrays you, said someone famous once… or not. Never mind. Only work mattered.

When she eventually opened the mailbox to find a papyrus roll wrapped with a familiar ribbon, she ignored it.

After an hour, she decided to burn the message without reading it.

After another hour, she decided to take a look at the contents, which had no meaning to her, to make sure it wasn’t some imp’s prank and the author was definitely Midais.

She didn’t burn the letter only because as soon as she finished reading, “I’ll come in the evening,” there was a knock on the door, which she eventually opened, because it wasn’t necessarily him.

But it was him.

“Why are you so surprised?” Dago asked. “I sent you a note.”

The sight of his statuesque torso, covered only partially by a sash, threw her off balance, but his impudence quickly sobered her up.

She crossed her arms. “Don’t you think that before visiting someone’s home, one should first ask if the host would like to see them?”

“You wouldn’t reply anyway.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because you ignored my four messages?”

“I would have replied to this one. Negatively.”

Instead of continuing the argument, Dago paused and then asked, “Will you let me in so we can talk like adults?”

Hera felt a warmth on her cheeks. She didn’t like the implication that her behavior was bratty, but the strange pressure she felt in the pit of her stomach she disliked even more.

She slammed the door.

Or at least, she tried.

“Sweet nightmare, Galenos.”

Dago held the door open and slipped inside. She opened her mouth to protest, but he covered it with a hand. When she raised her arms to push him away, he deftly grabbed her wrists in an iron grip.

“Rule number one,” he said in a quiet, calm voice that made a shiver run through her, “until we remove the curse from your fingers, you must not touch me without gloves.”

Taking advantage of her puzzlement and his strength, he made her step back and lean against the wall.

“Rule number two. If you don’t like what I do, you tell me and wait for my reply.” As she almost choked with indignation, he added, “This is non-negotiable. If you don’t agree to this condition, I will leave and never come back here again. Keep in mind, though, that someday I too may refuse if you want to talk to me.”

He waited until her expression showed that she’d fully understood the meaning of his words, then lowered the hand he’d been covering her mouth with.

Hera was silent. She felt overwhelmed more by her own feelings than by his physical proximity. She didn’t understand why the words “I will leave and never come back here again” tore at her insides like claws at fabric. They had barely seen each other for the past ten years. She’d never wanted to spend time with him. He’d always annoyed her. He was annoying her now. When had he become so sensible and composed? Why was he so determined? Why was he looking at her like that? Why did this matter to her? Why, instead of frying his hand, was she still letting him touch her like that?

Why did she like it?

Why couldn’t she like it?

“How long?” she asked finally.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “How long what?”

“How long do you expect me to wait for your reply after I communicate my dissatisfaction? I won’t agree to something you can use to play games with me.”

His face relaxed. “I’ll reply as soon as possible. Promise.”

He’d surprised her again. She didn’t expect from him such ardency. Not for her.

“All right,” she said because she didn’t have more counterarguments. “I agree.”

At the corner of his mouth lurked a smile. “Good.”

Despite these declarations, he didn’t move away, nor did she insist on it. There was still something separating them, though.

“Did you set a trap for me that day?” she asked.

“No.”

“So you didn’t want to create a scandalous situation just to spread gossip about me?”

“No.”

She studied him, searching his eyes for the slightest clue that would betray his lie, but she found nothing.

“You didn’t plan to harm me?”

“No.”

“Never?”

This time he delayed his answer.

“You know me,” he said eventually. “Do you really think I wouldn’t consider that you wouldn’t want to marry me?”

She felt a tightness in her chest. That she’d trusted him even though she shouldn’t was disappointing. That he hadn’t trusted her and had schemed an emergency plot hurt more than it should have.

“Marry me.”

The words came so suddenly that she thought she misheard. She blinked to make sure she wasn’t dizzy with emotions.

“Given our history, it will take years to build unconditional trust,” Dago continued. “But if we get married now, we won’t have to wait so long because the marriage contract will oblige us to unconditional loyalty. If we add a strict clause with sanctions for breaking it or early termination, we won’t have to rely on trust at all. It will be enough if we’re afraid of losing what we pledge.”

Hera stared at the man, astounded. His proposition was so logical that it was scary.

“What will you pledge?” she asked.

“All my gold mines.”

Her eyes widened. Dago Midais wanted to pledge the source of his wealth just to marry her? This couldn’t be real.

Then she remembered that he wasn’t doing it for her, but for a promotion that she wanted to avoid.

“What should I pledge?” Even though she tried to avoid it, her voice trembled. That Dago was willing to go to such great lengths to achieve his goals shouldn’t surprise her. The strange thing was that she didn’t know what she herself was capable of. “I don’t have anything that could match your wealth.”

“Maybe because you value yourself so little,” he said, giving her another long look that affected her pulse in an unfathomable way. “If you hadn’t shared the results of your experiments with everyone for free, you would now be one of the richest people in this country.”

“If I hoarded knowledge that could change the world, it would never change.”

“If you didn’t hoard knowledge, but shared it for a well-deserved fee, it would change, although perhaps at a slightly slower pace.”

“At the pace that would deprive defenseless beetles of food.”

“At the pace that wouldn’t deprive you of your savings, leaving you at the mercy of circumstances.”

She threw him a glare. “I’m not at the mercy of circumstances. I’m doing fine.”

“For now, yes. But what if you were banned from practicing your profession?”

She fell silent, confused.

“That should be your pledge,” Dago said. “The penalty for breaking the three-year contract will be a three-year ban on business competition. If you don’t want to be my wife, you will either become my subordinate or you will have to change careers.”

“Did you fall in love with Hera Galenos?”

Nira asked the question in a perfectly balanced tone that was a mixture of curiosity, skepticism, and humor in such proportions that she couldn’t be accused of gossiping, excessive pessimism, or offensive mockery. But Dago could see desire at the bottom of her dark gaze. Nira wanted to know the truth, wanted to know his thoughts, simply wanted him, wanted no one to know, and wanted not to want any of it.

Or so it seemed to Dago. He would be lying if he said he understood her. He had the impression that she was in love with him. From the countless love poems that made it clear that love was a pain in the ass, he suspected that she found her feelings for him burdensome. He assumed she knew he wouldn’t reciprocate them, and he guessed that was why, like him, she never tried to push the boundaries of their friendship. He imagined that she must have been feeling frustrated. How she endured it, he had no idea.

He didn’t know how to help her either. He’d known her since she was a baby. She was like a sister to him. He couldn’t…

He could try to be so mean to her that she wouldn’t want to spend time with him, but she didn’t deserve to be treated that way, nor he did want to push her away. He liked her.

He would also rather not upset her influential father, but that wasn’t as important.

“Hera and I have an agreement,” he said, answering her question. “Or rather, we will, if my friends’ lack of manners and double-edged comments don’t put her off.”

His friends didn’t have the decency to even try to show remorse.

“You brought her to the Sweet Lodge,” pointed out Zeno, who was sitting on the black sofa next to Nira. “If you had warned us, we wouldn’t have been so shocked.”

“What kind of agreement?” Nira wanted to know. “Are you going to marry her or something?”

Given the number of years they’d known each other, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the speed by which Nira formulated conclusions, but since the topic of marriage still made him a little uncomfortable, Dago remained silent a little too long.

Zeno’s eyes widened. “Is this what you meant by borrowing her reputation?”

“This is the only certain way for me to become the Archmagus,” Dago said, regaining his composure. “You will understand this when you think about it carefully.”

For the next five minutes, his friends did think carefully. Zeno made a face as if he had a stomach ache. Nira looked like she wanted to do something illegal.

“Indeed,” Zeno admitted reluctantly. “I can’t think of anything more certain.”

“Does the contract have an expiry date?” Nira asked, again using that special tone of innocent curiosity.

“Yes,” Dago replied. “It will expire when it is no longer useful.”

He had no desire to conceal the truth from his friends, but an instinct, likely inherited from his nightmarish ancestor, told him that if he gave a specific date, Hera might experience great distress the day after the contract expired.

Luckily, his friends knew how to do business.

“Do you have lemonade?” Zeno asked. “Time to drink to your promotion.”

Nira smiled. “Long live the new Archmagus.”

***

“Did Dago Midais really fall in love with you?”

There was curiosity in Gaiana’s voice, but her eyes were measuring Hera with a watchful gaze, and Hera knew she wouldn’t be able to dissuade her friend from the subject. The problem was that Hera couldn’t tell her the whole truth. Gaiana was a believer of True Love, and if she found out about her bargain with Dago, she would immediately try to talk her out of it.

“I don’t know if he’s really in love,” Hera said. She dropped a sugar cube into her tea. She usually did it with her fingers, but ever since her hands were cursed to turn sugar into gold, she’d been using metal tongs. “Just like I don’t know exactly what I feel. I’m as surprised by the situation as you are. We’ve always been rivals. I don’t understand why I don’t find him repulsive now.”

Seeing her friend frown, she added hastily, “I’m not Captivated. You know I’d burn his sandals if he even tried to use his Charm on me.”

She looked around the small cozy kitchen. It smelled of fresh herbs, and its shelves were full of preserves signed in meticulous handwriting.

“Maybe I’ve been spending too much time in the lab and I’ve gone crazy,” she said suddenly.

In an instant, Gaiana transformed from a danger-watching scout into a woman full of love and compassion.

“You aren’t crazy,” she said kindly, taking Hera by the hand. “It’s probably your heart deciding you’re working too much and yearning for something else.”

Hera gave her a skeptical look. “Yearning for Dago Midais?”

“He’s handsome and charismatic.” Gaiana hesitated. “And quite different from your previous partners.”

Hera looked down at the cup of tea in front of her, feeling a blush on her cheeks. Her previous partners had been honest, warm-hearted people. What did it say about her that now she’d chosen a cold, manipulative man who spent most of his time thinking about how to gain power?

I didn’t choose him, she told herself. Circumstances forced me.

Sensing her mood change, Gaiana withdrew her hand. “Did you have a fight yesterday?” she asked gently.

At another reference to Erato Adonis’s article, which was probably all Olympus was talking about now, Hera’s face fell even more. To give herself time to respond, she stirred her tea with her spoon, then took a sip.

“You know how he is,” she finally murmured. “I know that too, and I still can’t believe someone can be so charming and so cynical at the same time.”

This time it was Gaiana who fell silent, sipping her tea with a thoughtful expression on her face.

Hera couldn’t take it anymore. “Why are you so quiet?”

“I imagine you and him in the future.”

“And?”

“I don’t quite understand why, but I think it makes sense.”

Hera’s eyes widened. “Dago Midais and I make sense?”

Gaiana nodded. “You’re different, but also similar. You are both ambitious and sturdy, although you have different goals and methods of achieving them.”

“And that doesn’t contradict itself?”

“Not necessarily. Yes, you could still be rivals like you were before, but if you decided to become partners, you could learn from each other.”

Hera’s mouth dropped open. Was Gaiana Hercules, a model citizen, knight, wife of a national hero, suggesting to her that she should learn from a calculating schemer how to achieve her goals?

And then it dawned on her.

“You want me to spy on him!”

The fox maga raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t want you to spy on him. I want you to be happy. If you find evidence that he’s a cheater, you probably won’t be happy, right?”

After a confused pause, Hera admitted cautiously, “Right.”

Gaiana smiled. “So try to be happy, but keep your eyes wide open, okay?”

“How about we take a walk first and decide on the rest once we’re there?” Dago asked.

Taking into account that the word “rest” meant an act of an erotic nature that would take place in a public space, Hera should have refused immediately. She shouldn’t hesitate. She shouldn’t imagine what it would be like to feel a man’s touch in her intimate parts, being separated from other people’s eyes and ears only by a curtain. It didn’t matter that with this man she was able to experience pleasure that no other could give her. Sex should take place in bed…

Hera pushed away the image of the table in Dago’s home library where they’d become intimate for the first time.

Sex should take place behind closed doors…

As soon as she pushed away the memory of the sea breeze enveloping her body as she’d lain in an unambiguous position on the sunbed on the shore, it came back to mock her other argument that sex should take place where no one could see its participants.

Caramel dream… What had she been thinking? How could she have let Dago lick her in such a place? What if a ship had passed by? Or some kind of levitating vehicle?

This time she had to refuse. It didn’t matter that the curtain would prevent others from seeing the man caressing her. Someone still could hear them… hear her. A healer, researcher, apprentice of the Archmagus himself, moaning from pleasure in a changing room at the seamstress shop. Colorful drops, she couldn’t let that happen.

She could not.

She. Could. Not.

She could not!

Despite this logical conclusion that was beneficial for the entire nation, Hera stared at Dago Midais’s gray eyes in silence. She liked his gaze. She liked the attention he was giving her and the desires that lurked in its shadow made her pulse quicken.

Is it so strange that I give a gift to the woman I want to marry?

His determination excited her as much as the thought of his caresses, and though she had a hard time believing it, there was something about his outrageous idea that appealed to her. Why shouldn’t she succumb to it? He too conducted activities that influenced many people. Why should the same society that treated his unvirtuous behavior as something almost normal condemn her?

“I’m not sure if I like this expression,” Dago said, noticing the sudden change in her mood.

“And I’m not sure if I like your proposition.” Hera examined his face. “Tell me the truth, Midais. Are you planning to ruin my reputation in case I decide not to sign the contract?”

His surprise lasted a second. His silence lasted much longer.

“Wait,” he said as she rose from her seat and reached for her bag.

She ignored him and the book he was allegedly giving her, then started toward the elevator without looking back.

“The dessert was untasty?” Ainone asked, worry in their voice.

“It was good. Can you summon a carpet?” Her tone sounded harsh even to her own ears, so she added, “Please.”

The shadow frowned, but before they could answer, Dago came up behind them and said, “Fulfill her wish, Mxes. Ainone.”

The wrinkles on the morpheus’s forehead deepened, but they waved their hand and summoned a strawberry carpet with their chaotic magic. Hera entered it wordlessly. She wanted just to shift into a phoenix and fly away. What stopped her was the knowledge that in the satchel of the ghoulish goblin next to her was a valuable scroll that she didn’t want to destroy.

The thought that this could also be part of Midais’s plan burned her lungs.

Sweet nightmare, how could she be so stupid? She’d almost acted like all those naive women who fell dreamily into a man’s arms, convinced that they would be the Only One for him.

“Dessert wasn’t sweet enough?” Oinone asked when the carpet landed on the first floor.

“Dessert was good,” Hera and Dago said at the same time in an equally irritated tone.

“Oh, I see.” There was an amused note in the phantom’s voice. “See you soon, then.”

No way, Hera thought, starting briskly toward the exit.

“Can we talk in a more private place?” Dago asked, weaving between people to keep up with her.

Hera snorted. Let him find a private place alone. She would never go anywhere with him again.

Never.

Nowhere.

“Are you going to just leave it like this?”

Yes. That was her intention.

“Nyx Nemesis, Galenos,” Dago hissed, holding her arm. “Communicate with me verbally.”

She looked at him like he was a troll. Was he just referring to a contract she didn’t sign?

“Let’s try to act as if the contract was valid,” he said with constrained patience. “It will save us a lot of time, I guarantee it.”

Aha.

Both parties will tell each other the truth.

Before making a decision that may affect the other party, one should talk to them about it.

The goblin had broken the rules, but she couldn’t point it out to him because they only applied from now on.

Clever.

“Let me go.” She said the words slowly and clearly so he had no doubt about their meaning. “Or I’ll start screaming so loud and desperately that everyone thinks you hurt me.”

He pulled away from her as if she’d clawed him. She liked that reaction. It seemed he’d underestimated her up until that point, but now he had no choice. If he wanted to be promoted to Archmagus, he had to take into account her opinion, which was:

“I want nothing to do with you.”

Without waiting for his reaction, she turned and plunged into the crowd of passersby visiting the main square.

This time nobody disturbed her.

***

Promiscuous Diary. Special Issue

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s happening. It’s happening so much and it’s happening so fast. So much and so fast that no one knows what exactly is happening.

Did this enigmatic introduction annoy you? If yes, then you know how I feel.

Do you want to know the reason?

Here it is.

Dago Midais, a brilliant businessman and debauchee, descendant of nightmarish Nyx Nemesis and apprentice of Archmagus Homer Sokratis, met recently with another apprentice of the same Archmagus, a brilliant researcher of a good-dreamy lineage of healers, Hera Galenos. The meeting took place in the Temple of Sweetness on the terrace called Sweet Loge where, until now, Midais had been seen only in the company of Zeno Nereus, the magus of an ancient lineage of alchemists, who two years ago were on the verge of bankruptcy because of the breakthrough alchemical discoveries made by Galenos, and Deianira Ikaros, the daughter of Dedal Ikaros, whose transportation and construction company Ikaria is worth billions of auras.

Are you intrigued now? Then buckle up because it is only the beginning.

According to the anonymous onlookers, the meeting had a romantic character.

No, it is not a slip of the quill nor a euphemism. In writing the word “romantic,” I did not mean “erotic.”

Yes, dear readers. Dago Midais was on a date where nothing more than a fleeting touch happened.

If you are not shocked yet because you think that the non-fleeting touch certainly happened after the date, then I feel obliged to crush these beliefs too. Midais and Galenos left the Temple of Sweetness not only upset but also separately.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. It seems that for the first time in history, Dago Midais did not get what he’d hoped for.

The keyword: “seems.”

What exactly was Dago Midais counting on? Why did Hera Galenos agree to meet him in such a place? Weren’t those two rivals?

I am asking these questions constantly, but I still haven’t found answers. The longer I wonder, however, the stronger my suspicion becomes.

Did Dago Midais fall in love?

If you want to know the truth, be sure to subscribe to my Diary. It is difficult for me to predict in which issue the answer will appear, but I guarantee that besides the participants of the events, you will be among the first to learn about their effects.

With incandescent dedication,

Erato Adonis