NARRATOR

Lucrecia searched everywhere for a trace, playful insinuations at every corner.

She had come across couples, trios, quartets, and even quintets sprawled on the grass, against the hedges of the labyrinth, over benches.

Inside this vast garden structure, there were also small courtyards, fountains, benches, and secluded spots designed purely for pleasure.

She loved losing herself in this maze of green leaves, but tonight, nothing seemed to tempt her.

Those eyes… she couldn’t get those black eyes out of her mind.

That slave had lifted his head for just a second, only a second, and that lethal gaze—Goddess—it reminded her so much of her Gray.

There was something strange about him. She couldn’t quite place it, but she needed to see him again.

Where had that prude, Electra, gotten such a specimen?

And he seemed so well-trained. Electra… that whore… was becoming a serious problem. Far too powerful for her liking.

Not even Morgana had unsettled her this much.

But maybe this was also