The Spire was quiet for the first time in weeks. No drums beat in the lower halls. No chains rattled against stone. Servants moved through the corridors without speaking, carrying buckets of water and clean linens.
The morning sun cut narrow lines across the floors where it reached through the high slits in the walls. The air still smelled of sweat, oil, and sex from the night before.
In the east wing sleeping chambers, the women woke one by one. Elara pushed herself up on her elbows and winced. Her cunt throbbed.
Thick white cum from Aiden still leaked out of her whenever she shifted her legs. It had dried in streaks down her inner thighs during the night and now felt sticky against the sheets. The silver fractures glowed faintly across her stomach and breasts, the lines pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Lord Voss knelt beside the bed.
