I looked at myself in the polished mirror they’d provided, and I wasn’t sure whether to be mortified or impressed.

The ceremonial robe was beautiful, I had to give them that, flowing silk in soft colors that shifted between cream and pale gold, catching light in ways that made the fabric seem alive.

But "covering" was a generous description of what it actually did.

The neckline plunged in a deep V from my throat to my sternum, showing significantly more chest than I’d willingly displayed in public ever, the sleeves hung loose from my shoulders with deliberate gaps that exposed skin every time I moved, and while the lower half was mercifully substantial, the whole thing felt designed to show off rather than conceal.

I looked pretty, objectively, in a way that made me want to find a coat.

A very large coat.

Preferably one that covered everything.

Then I looked at Azryth and forgot about coats entirely.

His robe was equally revealing but the effect was completely different, dark silk that somehow made him look even more imposing than usual, the fabric draped across his chest in a way that accentuated every line of muscle, his shoulders bare and commanding, the whole ensemble making him look like he actually was royalty instead of just wearing ceremonial clothes.

He was looking at me with an expression that made heat crawl up my neck and settle in my face.

*Stop that,* I told him through the binding.

*Stop what?* he responded, still looking at me exactly like that.

*Looking at me like you want to... to...*

I didn’t finish that thought.

*Like I want to what?*

*You know what.*

His slight smile suggested he knew exactly what, and I felt warmth through the binding that had absolutely nothing to do with the realm’s temperature and everything to do with the fact that he was still looking at me like that while wearing robes that showed off his entire chest.

I caught myself staring at the way the silk moved when he breathed, at the lines of his shoulders, at his collarbones, and forced my eyes elsewhere while my face heated to approximately the temperature of the sun.

This was not helping.

"We should go," I said, voice coming out slightly strained. "The festival is probably starting."

"Probably," he agreed, but he didn’t move immediately, still watching me with that same expression that was doing things to my ability to think clearly.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the pavilion entrance before I could do something embarrassing like continue staring or say something stupid about how good he looked.

The festival space was set up in a large clearing, residents seated in circles of four around low tables laden with food and flowers, the whole area lit by soft golden light from sources I couldn’t identify that made everything look warm and intimate.

Which was probably intentional given this realm’s whole theme.

I spotted Mara, Henrik, and Ryota at one of the circles near the front and started toward them, then stopped when I actually processed Henrik’s situation.

A beautiful woman was sitting extremely close to him, one hand on his arm, the other gesturing expressively as she leaned in with obvious interest, and Henrik had the expression of someone trying to solve a complex problem while under duress.

His tablet was on the table in front of him, probably for moral support.

Mara and Ryota were both watching with barely concealed grins, clearly enjoying Henrik’s suffering, and when they saw us approaching in our ceremonial robes, Mara’s grin widened significantly.

"Wow," she said, voice full of amusement. "Those are... something."

"Very revealing," Ryota added, then immediately looked away like he was embarrassed for us, which honestly was fair.

Henrik glanced up, opened his mouth like he was going to say something probably analytical about ceremonial garments, then the woman beside him touched his thigh and his focus snapped back to his immediate problem with visible panic.

I felt bad for him.

But also it was kind of hilarious.

The Elder appeared beside us, gesturing toward what looked like a raised platform at the center of the clearing with two ornate chairs that were absolutely thrones, positioned to overlook the entire gathering like we were actually royalty.

"The Blessed Union sits in honor," he said warmly. "The community wishes to celebrate you properly, to witness your bond."

We climbed onto the platform, which felt extremely exposed, and I sat down in what was essentially a throne while wearing robes that showed more skin than I’d displayed in public in my entire life.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

The gathered residents stood, turning to face us with expressions of joy and reverence.

Then, as one, they bowed.

Deep, synchronized, practiced, like this was a choreographed performance and we were the centerpiece.

I felt my face heat again because this was a lot of attention from a lot of people, all focused on me and Azryth sitting on thrones in revealing ceremonial robes.

When they rose, four young residents moved forward, two men and two women wearing robes that were somehow even more revealing than ours, and they began to sing.

The harmony was beautiful, their voices blending in ways that resonated through the clearing, and they danced in graceful circles around our platform, movements fluid and practiced, clearly a ceremony they’d performed before.

The music was lovely, the dancing elegant, and the entire community watched with expressions of genuine joy, like witnessing this was actually meaningful to them.

Then the Elder approached, carrying a crown.

Not a metal crown, flowers woven together with delicate strands of what looked like gold thread, beautiful and clearly significant, the blooms arranged in patterns that probably had cultural meaning I didn’t understand.

"The Blessed Union is honored," he said, voice carrying across the suddenly quiet clearing. "The consort crowns the demon lord in recognition of their sacred bond."

He offered the crown to me with both hands, like it was precious.

I took it carefully, the flowers soft against my palms, and looked at Azryth.

He was watching me with calm acceptance, like this was perfectly normal, like sitting on thrones while I crowned him in front of an entire community was just another day.

I stood, the robe flowing around me in ways that made me very aware of how much skin was showing, and Azryth stood as well.

Then he bent slightly, tilting his head down to make it easier for me to reach without having to stand on my toes.

Which I appreciated because the robes were already embarrassing enough without adding awkward stretching to reach his head.

I placed the crown carefully, the flowers settling perfectly against his dark hair, gold thread catching the light, and he looked even more regal somehow, like he actually was the king this ceremony suggested instead of just a demon lord in ceremonial clothes.

He looked beautiful.

The thought came unbidden and I felt my face heat further.

"Thank you," he said softly, voice low enough that only I could hear over the music.

Then his hand came to the back of my neck, fingers warm against my skin, and he kissed me.

Not the chaste press of lips we’d shared sometime before.

This was different, deeper, claiming in a way that made my heart rate spike and my entire body heat up like I’d been set on fire.

The crowd erupted in cheers, loud and enthusiastic and delighted, but I barely registered it because Azryth was kissing me in front of everyone and I’d forgotten how to think about anything else.

When he finally pulled back, I had to remind myself to breathe.

*What was that for?* I asked through the binding, face absolutely burning.

*It seemed appropriate for the situation,* he responded, and I could see the slight smile on his face, feel his amusement through the binding mixing with something warmer.

*Appropriate,* I repeated, still trying to recover my ability to form coherent thoughts.

*Yes.*

The crowd was still cheering, residents on their feet now, celebrating like they’d witnessed something miraculous instead of just watching Azryth kiss me until I forgot my own name.

I sat down on my throne-chair with as much dignity as I could manage while blushing furiously and trying not to think about the fact that my heart was still racing.

Azryth sat beside me, looking completely composed, which was unfair because I felt like I’d just been thoroughly scrambled.

A resident approached with small cups carved from what looked like calabash, offering one to each of us with ceremonial care, bowing as they presented them.

"Sacred water," the Elder explained. "Blessed for the union, may it strengthen your bond."

We drank, the water cool and sweet with flavors I couldn’t identify, refreshing after the heat of the kiss and the general warmth of the realm.

The festival truly began after that.

Residents came forward in small groups, placing gifts at the base of our platform with words of blessing, flowers and oils and artfully crafted items I tried very hard not to examine too closely because some of them were clearly the kind of gifts you’d give to celebrate sacred intimacy.

Music continued, drums joining the singers, and dancing spread through the clearing as food was distributed and wine poured and the community celebrated with genuine joy.

I glanced toward Henrik’s table and immediately felt better about my own situation.

The woman beside him had progressed from touching his arm to practically draping herself across him while offering him food with one hand and running her other hand down his chest with clear intent.

Henrik was trying to eat, attempting to maintain some semblance of normalcy, but I watched him nearly choke on whatever he was chewing when her hand went lower, and his face went through several expressions very quickly.

Mara and Ryota were both grinning widely, clearly finding Henrik’s suffering hilarious, whispering to each other and occasionally pointing, completely entertained by his predicament.

Karma was coming for them though.

I could see it approaching in the form of another elder, this one making their way through the crowd with purpose, eyes fixed on Mara and Ryota’s table.

The elder stopped beside them, looked between Mara and Ryota with clear interest, tilted their head like they were sensing something, then smiled widely.

"The compatible souls!" the elder announced loudly enough to be heard over the music. "Your energies call to each other! The potential for union is beautiful!"

Mara’s grin vanished immediately.

Ryota froze mid-bite, food halfway to his mouth.

Residents at nearby tables turned to look, then began gravitating toward Mara and Ryota with enthusiastic interest, drawn by the elder’s announcement like they’d found something exciting.

"The connection is so strong," someone said, moving closer to examine them. "Can you feel it? The way their auras align?"

"Have you bonded yet?" another asked eagerly.

"No," Mara and Ryota said together, voices strained in a way that suggested panic.

"We can help!" a resident offered, sitting down at their table uninvited. "We will guide you toward union, teach you the sacred arts!"

"We don’t need help," Mara said sharply, her hunter instincts probably screaming at her to establish boundaries.

"But the compatibility is so clear," the first elder insisted. "Why resist such a beautiful connection?"

"Because we’re not interested," Ryota finished, setting down his food like he’d lost his appetite.

More residents were gathering now, circling their table like Mara and Ryota were the new entertainment, all offering advice and assistance and very detailed suggestions about positions and techniques and sacred oils that would enhance their experience.

I watched Mara’s expression shift from amusement at Henrik’s suffering to growing panic as the crowd around them grew, residents completely ignoring their protests, treating their denials like they were just shy instead of genuinely uninterested.

Ryota looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground.

Henrik, temporarily forgotten by his admirer who’d turned to watch the spectacle with interest, caught my eye and his expression was pure vindication.

See how you like it, his face said clearly.

I felt Azryth’s amusement through the binding as we watched the chaos unfold from our thrones.

*Should we help them?* I asked.

*With what?* he responded, voice rich with entertained curiosity. *They seem to be handling it.*

"Handling it" was generous.

Mara was deflecting increasingly persistent suggestions with sharp words that were getting sharper, Ryota had gone completely silent and looked like he was contemplating whether jumping off the seat would be worth the injury, and the residents showed absolutely no signs of backing off.

One particularly enthusiastic resident was demonstrating techniques using hand gestures that made Mara choke on her wine.

Another was explaining the benefits of certain positions with academic seriousness.

A third was already fetching oils.

The festival continued around us, music and dancing and celebration filling the clearing with joy, while at one table Henrik tried desperately to eat without making eye contact with anyone, and at another Mara and Ryota dealt with an entire community’s enthusiastic matchmaking efforts.

I looked at the temple in the distance, visible past the celebrating residents, at the fragment waiting there, at this festival that was apparently going to continue for quite a while before we could access the Sacred Pleasure.

At least we weren’t fighting ourselves this time.

That was definitely something.

Even if we were sitting on thrones in revealing robes while our friends suffered through aggressive attempts at romantic intervention.

I felt Azryth’s hand find mine on the armrest between our thrones, warm and steady.

*This is absurd,* I told him.

*Completely,* he agreed.

*But at least, they’ll give us the fragment after this.*

*Yes.*

We just had to survive the festival.

How hard could that be?