Page 101 of Warrior's Reign
There was a lot to parse in that statement, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. “You said not to attract too much of his attention.”
:That was probably wishful thinking on my part.I must focus now, Reign. I am being greeted by Lohail’s staff. The greeting is somewhat lacking in courtesy. It seems I must remind them who was once a Lord in this place.:
He went silent after dropping that first concrete fact.
Thoughtful, Reign picked up a high-necked semi sheer scarlet gown with a slip of black panties to go underneath—and nothing else. The skirt floated around her ankles and after consideration, decided she’d leave her feet bare. Boots wouldn’t go with this getup, and slippers or heels would just be useless if she had to fight.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed. Her lined dark eyes looked cruel, her red slicked mouth a little tight.Annnnndnips.
Oh well. Might as well rock it.
Crislyn was waiting outside the suite when Reign exited. This time the door opened on her request. The woman gave Reign a quick once over and nodded in approval.
“The red would have been my secondary choice for you as well,” she said. “Your skin looks like burnished gold.”
That would be the glimmer dust.
Her fellow human led Reign through wide halls. They weren’t the bland white, gray, and neutral tones of most spacecraft. Or even the brightly colored halls of shopping decks with myriad of screens flashing constant advertisements. There were no pulsing lights, or a spill of recorded sound encouraging shoppers to enjoy themselves.
But everything spoke of wealth and beckoning cruelty. From the choice of artwork lining the walls, the metallic accents and romantic, golden lighting. As they neared their destination, Reign inhaled, nostrils flaring with the scent of wildflowers, a pulse of music in the air.
The lights, the scent, the colors, the sounds, all seemed to encourage her to prepare herself for complete abandon. But to who, or what?
She smiled sourly. A girl could guess.
Crislyn paused in front of a big circular door. Guards stood on either side, their arms crossed, expressions veiled by black masks.
“That’s different,” Reign said, eyeing them.
“You are our Lord’s guest. Don’t be concerned. Welcome.”
The doors slid open and Reign nearly coughed at the onslaught of perfume that blasted out. Someone was trying to make a point. She wrinkled her nose. If she was going to have to listen to drum music all evening, she was going to develop a headache.
Reign stepped inside and nearly sneered. If said someone had decided to conjure up the fantasy of a rich person’s sex club, this would be it. Interspersed wall torches hinted the decor was ironic. . .but apparently most of the guests took it seriously. People danced, lounged, ate and laughed in various states of dress and activity that matched the decor.
And, of course, at the head of the room sat a dais, with three couches surrounding a low table. Spotlights illuminated the arrangement, though it was empty.
Crislyn walked straight towards it.
“Let me guess,” Reign said. “That’s the VIP section.”
“Yes, our Lord desires guests of note to be recognized.”
Reign followed, and sprawled onto a couch, crossing a leg and resting an arm just so.
“Food and drink will be served shortly, please enjoy,” Crislyn said, smiling warmly. “Our Lord will join you soon.”
“His courtesy overwhelms me.”
“Of course.”
Crislyn left. Like hell was Reign going to eat or drink anything they offered her.
She scanned the guests, not really expecting to recognize any faces, and wondering if Icolo and Martha were frothing at the mouth by now. A few bold gazes met hers, but for the most part people made casual note of her presence but paid her little attention. That boded well. Too much attention would have meant the occupants of this dais warranted it—and she wasn’t going to be the evening entertainment.
Reign tensed when the entry doors slid open. And almost rose when a glittering gaze zeroed in.
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