In an elegant parlor room sitting on a comfortable, luxurious chaise is a handsome wizard with golden-haired streaked with highlights of silver that only seen to highlight his handsome features. Sneering with disdain Mulciber Sr. turns his nose up at the silver platter. There were tiny finger sandwiches, brightly colored macaroons, and a set of an expensive china tea set. A scarred serving girl had poured him a cup of earl gray tea, before departing from which she came. A pity as the girl had quite the delectable body if not for the mutilations on her body, he'd have tumbled her in the meantime to occupy his boredom until the main course arrived to relieve his desires.
Tapping his fingers on his other forearm, Mulciber Sr. impatiently waits. The oak-stained grandfather clock in the corner of the parlor ticks loudly increasing his irk. Reaching into his robes for his wand, he with great embellish removes his wand and points it at the oblivious ticking grandfather clock in the corner of the parlor room. About to cast a spell to blast the grandfather clock to smithereens, a soft knock is heard as a melodious, but accented female voice asks, "May I come in, sir?"
Hastily sitting back down, Mulciber Sr. stuffs his wand back into his robes, before confidently leaning back in the settee. "You may," he arrogantly answered with his curiosity a bit piqued. He'd grown bored of his last flower and had requested the use of a more exotic flower belonging to a different climate. Madam Zenarie had yet to fail in fulfilling his requests, and as such he very much looked forward to the new selected flower for his personal usage.
The golden parlor door handle turns, and the door swings open to reveal a hooded figure. Mulciber Sr. furrows his brow as the hooded young woman enters the parlor room and shuts the door behind her, before carefully setting a picnic basket down onto the parlor room table. "I see, you are just as handsome as they said, Mr. Mulciber," the young woman said as she raised a pair of lovely, smooth honey-colored skinned hands to her cowl.
Pushing back the cowl, a breathtaking face is revealed with crimson lips and startling colored eyes that color of gold. With exaggerated care, she loosens the ties of her hood causing Mulciber Sr.'s breath to slip as she playfully loosens the ties and allows the outer robes to fall to the ground. A voluptuous figure is revealed with raven, silk-colored hair that trails loosely down her back in waves. She wears silk, white Greek-style robes that cling to her revealing her sultry body and yet cloth her body elegantly as if she was a temple handmaiden. Her exquisitely proportioned feet are bare except for golden anklets that hang tastefully there.
"I hope you find me just as satisfying as I find you, sir," the bewitching minx said in her melodious accented voice.
"Indeed," Mulciber Sr. replied as his eyes raked the voluptuous figure from top to bottom. "Please sit, my dear," he heatedly requested without removing his gaze once from her sultry body.
"I would very much wish to do so, sir," the minx replied with a charming knowing smile. "However, sir, I accompanied by a most excellent elf-wine vintage. It may be foolish of me, but I thought that we might get to know each other under such circumstances. Might I pour us some elf-wine?"
Mulciber Sr. narrows his eyes for a moment before utterly dismissing the idea of a plot against him. A whore could not possibly be that conniving nor would the establishment permit it. And especially one under the unwritten protection of the Potentate of London. This was the primary reason why Madam Zenarie's brothel had remained popular for so long was due to its precise safety that it extended to the clients. There was no fear of public reprisal from a foolish extortion attempt.
After a moment, Mulciber Sr. magnanimously gestures his fingers at her in assent. "I suppose, there is no lasting harm in enjoying the finer things in life, but first what is the name of the breathtaking creature before me?"
"Ada, sir," the beautiful bewitching young woman replied.
"Ada," Mulciber Sr. slowly pronounced as if enjoying rolling the outlandish name on his tongue. "A foreign name is it not?"
"Of Latin, Spanish origin, sir," Ada enchantingly replied as she smoothly uncorked the wine and poured the two of them an equal amount of wine in two glasses. "My father was half Greek and Italian, the child of a night with a sailor. He fell for my mother, who was of Moors, Spanish descent. Though as I child I was often told that I only inherited the best qualities of two parents."
"Yes, I can easily see that," Mulciber Sr. appreciatively murmured as he watched her firm, but round behind. It was perfectly taut and round like a plump peach.
With care, Ada turned around and seductively moved toward him, before offering him a wine glass. "To the future," she said with an enchanting smile before taking a generous sip of her own elf made wine.
"To the future," Mulciber Sr. contemptuously replied, before downing the entire wine glass in one single gulp. His tongue licks the last of the wine droplets from his lips before he places the wine glass aside. "Now onto better things, if I may?" He gestured to her wine glass to take her drink away and commence.
Ada's lips curl outward like a beautiful rose without any visible thorns, but what is a rose without thorns? And so, Mulciber Sr. misses the small smirk that twitches at the edge of her lips as he takes the wine glass from her lovely honey-colored skin hand and sets the wine glass onto the edge of the table.
Leaning closer, Mulciber Sr. bends his lips to her own. Their lips intertwine as he tastes the sweet wine on her tongue and curls his hands around her waist pulling her closer. Ada loosely places her hands on his shoulders as if unsure as to if to wrap them around her neck or push him forcibly away.
Mulciber Sr. feels that he could drown in those sweet lips and deepens the kiss hungrily devouring her lips. Breathing hard, Mulciber Sr. finally comes up for air and finds that he is slightly dizzy. "Oh, are you alright, sir?" Ada's melodious accented voice asked. "You appear out of breath and a bit pale. If you would like we could take a break, I can send for a meal or the house healer which would you prefer, sir?"
Mulciber Sr. is unable to reply as he feels himself sinking back into the luxurious settee. A pair of honey-colored skinned hands appear in his blurry vision as soft lips press a kiss on his cheek. The melodious voice accented voice of Ada gently whispers into his ear. "One final mercy, sir, to a dying man."
Mulciber Sr. tried to struggle against the overwhelming darkness, but soon everything faded away until he knew nothing. Unconscious and limp against the settee, Ada wipes her lips, before taking a sip of the wine to clean her mouth of the Mulciber Sr.'s taste. Wrinkling her nose, she turns away and opens the door to find the pretty, but scarred face that of the Sous-Chef, Tamara.
"The task has been fulfilled," Ada nonchalantly said, "and Mulciber Sr. is ready to be moved."
Tamara blinks in surprise as she did not expect Ada to be successful if at all and so very quickly. Carefully reevaluating the beautiful enchantress before her, Tamara slowly nods her head and says, "As promised the remaining debt has been canceled," and reaches into her pocket, before handing a golden contract of debt to the enchanting damsel.
With trembling hands, Ada takes the sole object of her desires and tears it in half. Blinking back moisture and joy, she lets out a loud sigh she did not even know she had been holding in. She was free. Free at last!
Understanding some of Ada's feelings, Tamara quietly asks, "Where or what will you do now, Ada?"
"I am not certain," Ada truthfully answered the squib. "However, there is an entire world waiting for me. I am beautiful and I am experienced in the ways of the flesh. If worst comes to worst, I shall support myself in a similar manner as before."
Tamara nods her head in understanding of the young women's words. "Good luck," she genuinely said, before heading inside the parlor room to ensure that Mulciber Sr. is sufficiently unconscious to be safely moved.
With a faint, but a genuine smile on her face, Ada walks away. She had not felt so freely since she'd sold herself to pay for her family's debts. Her father and mother were both now dead and her siblings under the care of her aunt and uncle. She did not owe them anything further or anyone else. She did not know what the future held, but it was sufficient to know that she was a free woman. Freedom is not always freely given rather a privilege that is valiantly fought for.
“You have never tasted freedom, friend," Dienekes spoke, "or you would know it is purchased not with [steel], but [gold].” -Steven Pressfield, Gates of Fire