Chapter 20
Written by Bayzo Albion
Then—a clap. Slow, deliberate. Another.
I snapped my head toward the sound.
In a chair by the fireplace, lounging as if she'd been there all along, sat the Baroness. Her gaze was cold as frost, but a mocking smile played at her lips. She clapped again, each sound sharp and theatrical, like an audience savoring a performance.
"Bravo," she drawled, her voice laced with sardonic amusement. "Quite the show. Straight out of some old ballad, wasn't it?"
I said nothing. Naked, vulnerable, and utterly spent, facing her felt like a humiliation. Yet there was no malice in her tone—just bored curiosity and a predator's keen interest.
"Not bad for a novice," she continued, tilting her head. "Though your technique betrays a certain… inexperience. Still, I do love raw potential."
The Baroness had been watching us the entire time. Her gaze was sharp, predatory, a glint of satisfaction curling her lips into a sly smile. She looked older now—not in years, but in the weight of her authority. More alluring, more commanding, more dangerous. A woman who could ensnare you with a single glance and hold you captive without ever needing to raise a finger.
"How long have you been spying on us?" I asked, propping myself up on one elbow, my voice carrying a mix of curiosity and defiance.
"From the very start," she replied coolly, unruffled. "I never left. I simply chose not to interrupt your… performance."
Iris turned, her eyes narrowing. "Did you record it all with that magical lens of yours?"
"Oh, absolutely," the Baroness said, her lips twitching upward in a wicked half-smile. "Every tantalizing moment. We're going to make a fortune with that footage."
With a flourish, she reached into the folds of her lavish skirt and produced four gold coins, tossing them into my open palm with a satisfying *clink*.
"Here," she said, her voice smooth as velvet. "Start with these. Pay off your debts before the interest starts biting." She added a fifth coin, her gesture almost playful. "Don't worry—we're fair. You'll get your share. Mostly."
I stared at the coins, their golden surfaces glinting in the soft light. They felt warm in my hand, or perhaps it was my pulse quickening, caught in the storm of conflicting thoughts. My mind was a battlefield, two voices clashing within me.
*"This world craves risqué entertainment like that?"* my inner cynic mused, dripping with sarcasm. *"It's the dream job! Lie back, enjoy yourself, get adored, get paid. No need to slave away just to survive."*
*"Sure,"* I countered silently, wrestling with the thought. *"But are we really going to play this game forever? Hunger sharpens the senses, teaches you to savor every bite. A full stomach forgets the thrill of a meal after three days of starvation. That's the real taste of life."*
*"Oh, spare me your philosophy!"* the cynic snapped. *"You're dreaming in the clouds again. A fool in paradise is still a fool!"*
*"Trust, but verify,"* I shot back, my tone grim. *"I want to live in this paradise forever—but not as a puppet in someone else's show. I need to know if this is the real deal or just a gilded cage."*
*"I just want to have fun and get paid! It's not that complicated—you're overthinking it!"*
I clenched the coins tighter, their edges biting into my palm. The warmth of the gold mingled with the heat of my own uncertainty, a quiet tremor running through me.
The Baroness leaned closer, her presence overwhelming, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "By the way… you're a natural on camera. The lens loves you. And the audience will, too."
Strength surged back into my body, as if the very air of this paradise fueled my recovery. Energy coursed through my veins, warming my muscles, my skin, my core. It was intoxicating, this rapid restoration, like waking from a dream only to find yourself more alive than before.
"Well, then," I said with a grin, rising to my feet, the weariness of earlier moments forgotten. "Let's go for round two."
Both women gasped in unison, their voices a mix of awe and apprehension. "You're ready again *already*?"
I reached for Iris, drawn once more to the magnetic pull of her presence. Her skin glistened with a faint sheen, a blend of exertion and the subtle glow of magic. Her breath hitched, her eyes alight with anticipation. But as I moved closer, an invisible force stopped me—a shimmering blue barrier that pulsed between us, gentle yet unyielding. It enveloped her, a protective veil that seemed to say, *"Not yet."*
Iris smiled softly, brushing her fingers along the barrier's surface. "You've filled me with too much of your energy," she said, her voice calm but warm. "There's no more room to take it in. You gave… so much, so fast." She tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "How *did* you recover so quickly?"
I flexed my hands, feeling the electric hum of power within me. "Even if my memories are gone, my body remembers. There's… something inside me. Ancient techniques, maybe. Instincts I can't explain. I don't know how it works—it just does."
Iris shook her head, a mix of wonder and disbelief in her expression. The Baroness, meanwhile, narrowed her eyes, as if seeing me in a new light, her curiosity piqued by something she hadn't noticed before.
I wasn't fully restored—not yet. The strength coursing through me was only a fraction of what it could be. But it was enough. Enough to keep going, to test the limits, to explore what this world allowed. Not just for the thrill of it, but to understand the rules, the boundaries, the truth of this so-called paradise.
Yet even here, in this seductive, indulgent realm, there were limits. Not harsh or oppressive, but natural, woven into the fabric of this world. An endless cycle of indulgence wouldn't lead to growth or freedom—it was a trap, draped in silk and honey. Even pleasure here came with safeguards, a reminder that excess had its price.
Round two, then. For now, that was enough.
The Baroness rose from her chair, her steps slow and deliberate, the click of her heels echoing through the silence.
She stopped before me, her gaze locking onto mine — sharp, unreadable.
Without a word, she leaned closer, her presence overwhelming, her voice a whisper wrapped in silk.
"Consider this… a reward," she murmured, and the world tilted.
Her perfume, sweet and dangerous, filled the air. For a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe. Then — darkness.
Iris lay curled up nearby, sleeping soundly with soft, contented breaths. She must have been digesting the energy she'd taken from me, like a serpent after a feast—slowly, luxuriously, basking in the afterglow.
"Did you plan all this from the start?" My voice came out rough, raw, as I looked up at the Baroness.
She arched a slender brow, her expression teetering between amusement and disdain, as if I'd just uttered something utterly absurd. "What, you think I deliberately threw you into the arms of a succubus?"
"Just asking," I said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. "There've been a few too many coincidences lately."
Summoning the last dregs of my strength, I pushed myself to my feet, muscles stiff and protesting. I reached into the spatial pocket at my side, pulling out my clothes, and dressed with slow, deliberate movements. Each motion was a struggle, but something inside me was stirring—will, anger, maybe even a spark of excitement. I wasn't done yet.
The Baroness watched, her eyes glinting with genuine surprise. "Well, look at you," she said, her voice laced with mockery. "Not only standing but moving? Are you *sure* you're as weak as you claim?"
"For now," I replied, stepping closer, my voice steady. "But I'll take back what's mine."
Boldly, I reached out, cupping her cheeks and giving them a gentle, playful tug, like teasing a sulky child. Her eyes sparked—whether with delight or irritation, I couldn't tell, but the flicker of emotion sent a thrill through me.
The afterglow lingered, warm and untainted. No disgust, no awkwardness—just a quiet heat spreading through my chest, a pleasant fatigue that felt more like the sweet ache of a festival's end. The Baroness, radiant as ever, hadn't dimmed in my eyes. If anything, her elegance seemed sharper, more magnetic, her presence filling the room like a storm held at bay.
I rolled my shoulders, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Guess it's time to settle some debts… with a certain elf."
The Baroness crossed her arms, her lips curving into a wry smile. "Found the coin to pay her off already? So much for the elf's cunning little scheme."
I squinted at her, catching the glint in her eyes. "Are you pleased about that… or disappointed?"
Her smile deepened, but a shadow of uncertainty flickered across her face. "Neither," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "Just… surprised. I was certain you'd stumble into another mess, and I'd be the one dragging you out of the wreckage."
"Sorry to let you down," I said, my grin widening. "Everything went almost *too* smoothly."
"Exactly." She stepped closer, her presence sharp and electric, like a blade grazing skin. "Too smoothly. That's what bothers me more than a failure."
"You think she's not done with me?"
"I think she's only just started," the Baroness said, her tone cold and precise. "And now, she's probably scheming something bigger."
I nodded, my mind turning over her words. "Then it's time to play her game—and beat her at it."
"Bold words." Her lips quirked, but her gaze was piercing. "Just remember: cunning is her domain. Step into her game, and you'd better play carefully… or don't cry when you're left with nothing but your pride."
"I can spare the pants," I shot back, my voice light but resolute. "As long as I don't lose."
The Baroness let out a soft, throaty laugh, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous and amused. "Oh, I'm sure she's already got her sights set on your soul…" Her gaze flicked downward, a teasing smirk curling her lips. "And a few other things."