Moonlight streamed through latticed windows, casting intricate patterns onto marbled floors. The Grand Aurelian Chamber, Velmoria's private royal bathhouse, shimmered with opulence. Mosaic tiles depicted ancient wars, celestial beasts, and symbols long forbidden from public memory. The scent of myrrh and orange blossom oil hung heavy in the air, curling with steam rising from the heated pool that took center stage.
Servants, draped in translucent silks, moved soundlessly along the outer corridors. Music—played on nalinaras and bronzed thalaris—wafted through the columns. The nalinara, a harp-like string instrument once played only for the gods, added a haunting undertone to the otherwise sensual atmosphere.
Prince Raelth lounged on a raised platform adorned with velvet cushions, his long legs spread lazily. His torso glistened with water droplets, muscles defined and golden under the flickering light. A goblet of deep amber wine rested in his fingers, untouched.
"You're quiet tonight, Darian," Raelth said, voice smooth but edged with the steel of command.
Prince Darian, the second born, sat beside him in a high-backed seat of carved obsidian. He exuded a different kind of presence—one of patience and thoughtfulness. A faint line creased his brow as he observed his surroundings, his dark eyes carrying a weight most couldn't see. They held knowing. A gift—and curse—he never asked for.
"Too much noise," Darian muttered, glancing toward the pool. "And too much distraction."
The youngest, Prince Zairen, was leaned back against the pool's edge, water slick against his lean, toned body. He was laughing, mischief glinting in his obsidian eyes. His dark lashes fluttered against his high cheekbones as he murmured into the ear of a golden-haired courtesan currently kneeling between his brother Vaelor's legs.
Vaelor sat on the edge of the pool, head thrown back as the same woman eagerly took his cock in her mouth. Her hands gripped his thighs, while Zairen, behind her, had his hands firm on her waist, thrusting into her wet heat with slow, rolling hips. Their bodies moved in tandem—Vaelor groaning above, Zairen growling below.
She moaned around Vaelor's shaft, gagging slightly but not pulling away. Her pleasure and submission filled the room like incense, unashamed and primal.
"Distraction is the only constant in this palace," Raelth replied, amused. "Enjoy the moment. You'll go gray too early if you keep brooding."
Darian's lip twitched, but he didn't respond.
Raelth leaned forward and clapped once.
Three nude women approached from the shadows, their bodies oiled and supple. He scanned them and pointed to one—tall, olive-skinned, with full lips and wide, trembling eyes.
"You. Our second prince is quite tense and tired nowadays. Give his cock a good suck and make him regret his celibacy."
Before the woman could even move an inch prince Darian raised his hand to stop her and said to Raelth with a sigh ," I am already overwhelmed these days work you don't need to add to my troubles. You should give this lady a chance to suck your war frenzy off your cock. "
Raelth leaned back, the curve of a satisfied smirk tugging at his mouth as the music swelled. He swirled the wine in his goblet and glanced sideways at Darian, who sat stiff-backed like a statue amidst silken chaos.
"You know," Raelth began casually, "I sometimes wonder if you were switched at birth. Maybe the monks down in Silverhollow left one of their own in our cradle."
Darian didn't look at him. "Because I don't enjoy watching you rut in public like a stallion in heat?"
Raelth barked a laugh. "Because after every triumph, every battle, every family curse-fueled nightmare, you act like wine, women, and a hot bath offend your sacred sensibilities."
Darian finally met his gaze. "And you act like a naked courtesan is a solution to geopolitical tension."
Raelth shrugged, grinning. "It's not not a solution."
Darian sighed, rubbing his temple. "Is this your only idea of brotherly bonding?"
"It's the only one that works," Raelth said without shame. "I bleed for this empire, Darian. And when I come back covered in gore, I need my brothers close. And drunk. Preferably getting blown."
Darian raised an unimpressed brow. "Touching."
Raelth leaned closer, mock-whispering, "Besides, if I don't drag your brooding ass out here, you'll start seeing visions of doom again and lock yourself in the library for six months."
Darian muttered under his breath. "I should've stayed in the library."
"Too late now. You're here. Might as well enjoy the view."
Raelth lazily leaned back and commanded the olive skinned woman to kneel.
She obeyed without hesitation, coming to rest between his spread legs. But Raelth didn't wait for her to find her rhythm. He tangled a hand in her thick hair, yanked her forward, and shoved his cock into her throat in one brutal thrust. She gagged, tears forming, but he held her there.
"Don't stop until I tell you," he growled.
Her hands gripped his thighs for support as he began fucking her mouth with forceful thrusts, his pelvis hitting her lips with wet smacks. Saliva dribbled down her chin, and Raelth groaned, head falling back.
"You see, Darian," he said, voice strained with pleasure, "this is living. Not that celibate monk life you've taken up."
Darian didn't flinch. "Sex isn't purpose."
"But it is power," Raelth countered, thrusting harder. "And power keeps us sane."
"I'm not so sure anymore."
Raelth chuckled, then groaned as his climax hit. He held the girl firmly on his cock, forcing her nose to his base while thick ropes of cum filled her throat.
"Swallow it all," he commanded. She obeyed, whimpering softly.
Only then did he release her, pushing her back gently with one hand. She gasped for air, wiping her mouth, but her expression was blissful—honored.
Raelth turned back to Darian, who stared ahead.
"You've been seeing her again, haven't you?" Raelth asked quietly. "In the visions."
Darian stiffened.
"It's been months, hasn't it?"
"Almost half a year," Darian admitted. "She calls me. But I never reach her. Just her back, her laughter, her voice in the fields...."
Raelth studied his brother. "Perhaps it's time to stop resisting. Take a woman. Break the tension."
Darian's gaze turned distant, like mist over water. "It's not tension. It's fate. Something's changing."
Zairen's laughter echoed louder from the pool. "If fate's real, brother, she better be good at riding cock."
Vaelor chuckled, gripping the golden-haired woman's head and guiding her movements again.
Darian rose from his seat.
"I'm going to rest. My head's heavy."
Raelth nodded, then waved him off with two fingers. "Enjoy your solitude. I'll enjoy mine in warm mouths and thighs."
As Darian stepped away, the music continued, women danced, and moans echoed across the marble chamber. But beneath the steam, the prophecy stirred.
And something—someone—had just entered the palace who would shake the foundation of everything they knew.