The girls began moving toward the grand hall as if drawn by an invisible force, a steady current of color and beauty converging on the center where Marchioness Dahlia waited.
Mara let herself be carried along, walking beside her friends as her eyes tried to take in every detail.
The hall was magnificent. The walls were draped in silk curtains of deep purple and crimson, creating an intimate atmosphere despite the sheer size of the space.
Scented incense lingered in the air, mingling with the fragrance of fresh flowers placed strategically throughout the room.
But what truly commanded attention was the figure at the center. Marchioness Dahlia.
She was devastatingly beautiful, likely in her thirties, though with someone of her status and wealth it was hard to say for certain. Her hair was a deep violet, almost black, falling in soft waves to the middle of her back.
Her eyes were the color of red wine—deep, intense, and seeming to peer straight into one's most hidden desires.
She wore a dress that barely deserved the name—more a series of strategically placed fabrics that covered just enough to be technically decent, while revealing enough to be utterly provocative. Jewelry
adorned her neck, wrists, and ankles, catching the light with every subtle movement.
Beside her, slightly behind and to the left, stood Reiko.
She was younger than the marchioness, probably around Mara's age, with short black hair cut in a modern, asymmetrical style.
Her bright green eyes were sharp and intelligent, and there was an energy about her that suggested constant thought, planning, and organization.
She wore a simple yet elegant emerald-green dress that matched her eyes.
The girls formed a semicircle around the platform, anticipation thick in the air.
When the last murmur faded and silence fell, Marchioness Dahlia stepped forward.
"Welcome," she began, her voice like velvet—soft, yet heavy with
authority. "Welcome to my home, my dears."
She paused, her gaze sweeping across the group as if memorizing every face.
"I know many of you have traveled far to be here tonight. Some of you have attended my events before," she continued, her eyes briefly
settling on Kira and a few familiar faces. "And others are experiencing this for the very first time."
Her gaze met Mara's—and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them.
"This evening is not merely a party," the marchioness continued, her tone growing more intimate. "It is a celebration. A celebration of pleasure, of desire, of the freedom to pursue what our hearts—and our bodies—crave without shame or judgment."
Several girls nodded, clearly resonating with her words.
"Within these walls, there is only one rule: respect. Respect for each
other's boundaries. Respect for each other's desires. Respect for each other's humanity—no matter how… animal things may become."
Soft laughter rippled through the crowd.
"Reiko and I have spent the last three weeks preparing this event," the marchioness gestured toward the black-haired girl beside her, who smiled with quiet pride. "We have crafted experiences for every taste, every preference, every curiosity. There are rooms for intimacy.
Spaces for exhibition. Areas for tenderness, and areas for intensity."
Her voice dropped, becoming sultry.
"And there are surprises. Many surprises."
Mara shivered, a dizzying mix of nerves and excitement washing over her.
"But more important than any physical preparation," the marchioness continued, "is the spirit with which we enter this night. Leave your worries at the door. Leave your fears, your anxieties, your insecurities. For tonight, allow yourselves to simply be. To explore. To experience. To enjoy."
She paused, letting the words sink in.
"Because life, my dears, is far too short to deny ourselves the pleasures that make us feel alive. Too short to live in regret over the things we never dared to try. Too short to be anything less than completely, absolutely, gloriously ourselves."
She spread her arms wide.
"So tonight, I say to you: indulge. Indulge as if it were the last time. Indulge with the intensity of those who know these moments are precious, rare, and entirely ours to claim."
Her smile widened, turning almost predatory.
"The mansion is yours. The pleasures that await are yours. And tonight… tonight belongs to you."
She raised a goblet filled with a dark red liquid that gleamed in the light.
"So let us toast. To pleasure. To desire. To the freedom to be exactly who we are."
"To pleasure!" the girls echoed, raising their glasses.
"To desire!"
"To freedom!"
The marchioness drank, and the girls followed, sealing the pact.
Then, with a dramatic snap of her fingers, the music surged—deeper, louder, more visceral.
The lights dimmed further, casting dancing shadows along the walls.
From every doorway around the hall, more servants appeared, carrying trays of drinks, food, oils, perfumes, and objects whose purposes Mara could only guess.
"The party," the marchioness announced with a triumphant smile, "has begun."
The hall exploded into motion.
Girls dispersed in every direction—some toward private rooms, others remaining in the main hall, others surrendering to the music and beginning to dance with an unmistakable sensuality.
Mara stood still for a moment, overwhelmed by the scene unfolding around her.
A hand rested on her shoulder, and she turned to see Beckie smiling at her.
"Ready?" her friend asked.
Mara looked around—at Mordred and Cecilia already locked in a passionate kiss, at Alice being gently guided toward a secluded corner by an unfamiliar girl, at Emi and Rae speaking with the marchioness, at dozens of girls indulging in pleasure.
And something inside her loosened.
All the doubts. All the fears. All the questions about who she was or should be.
Here, in this moment, she was simply Mara.
And she was ready to discover what that truly meant.
"Yes," she replied, her voice steady and full of resolve. "I'm ready."
And with that, she let herself be carried into the flow of the night— toward experiences she could barely imagine, yet eagerly wished to embrace.
The party was only just beginning.
And Mara knew it would be a night she would never forget.