The Book of Atrocious Dalliance

Beatrice sat at her desk in the middle of the night, feverishly scratching her pen across the paper. The flicker of a candle cast shadows on her face as she furrowed her brow in concentration.

She had been feeling sick since her meeting with Edward. The disgust she felt for him and her mother was overwhelming, but she knew that she needed all of the details on her path to revenge.

'I needed to do this! You can do it Beatrice" she cheered for herself.

The memory of Edward's confession made Beatrice's stomach churn, and she had to pause from writing for a moment to catch her breath. She could feel her pulse quickening as she recalled the details of the affair.

Thanks to the detailed story that Edward provided, the image of Edward and her mother entwined in passion in a room was burned into her mind.

The sound of music and laughter from the ballroom outside seemed to fade away as she was transported back to the moment. It was her twenty-one birthday. She could almost feel the cold, hard tiles beneath her feet and the musty smell of the room.

The Duchess' moans filled the small room, bouncing off the walls as she gave in to her desires. "Oh, Edward," she panted. "You are so good."

Edward's voice was strained with excitement as he responded. "Alicia...my sweet Alicia."

The passion in their voices was unmistakable, and Beatrice felt her stomach churn with disgust. She could almost hear the sound of their skin slapping together and the creaking of the door as they moved frantically. She could sense the excitement and the intensity of their lovemaking.

Beatrice couldn't believe the level of depravity and betrayal that her mother and Edward had sunk to. She felt a deep sense of anger and disgust as she wrote everything down on paper.

She paused in her writing to lean over the bucket beside her and vomit. The acrid smell of bile filled the air, making her stomach churn even more. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before resuming her writing.

"Stay strong, Beatrice," she whispered to herself, determined to see her plan through. She gritted her teeth and returned to her writing, her pen scratching feverishly across the page.

Her hand ached from the strain of holding the pen, but she didn't stop. This was critical. She needed to get every detail down, every bit of evidence that would prove her mother's infidelity and Edward's betrayal.

Revenge was the only thing on her mind. It would be easy if she just sent a letter to her father, Duke Orson, tell him about her mother's affair with her fiancé. Her father would come home and take care of things, but she didn't want to let her father have the fun himself.

She wanted to ensure that the affair was made public, so everyone would know what kind of people they really were. She dipped her pen in the inkwell and continued writing. The scratching sound of her pen on paper was the only noise in the room.

"The Dream of Lily," her first novel, had been a bestseller among the noble ladies in particular. But following its success, the temple banned it. She owed it all to her loyal fan base, especially to Circe, who had been selling her banned book in secret.

Talking about the book made her remember Edward's detailed story about his and her mother making love inside the Imperial Library. The way he described the scene so intimately and sensually caused a surge of anger to burn within her. She tried to bury it by immersing herself in her writing.

But her mind was filled with images of the two of them, their bodies entwined in a passion that bordered on sin. The scent of old books mingled with the musky aroma of their sweat, and the sound of their moans echoed through the stacks.

As she wrote, she felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and she leaned over the bucket again. The smell of vomit mixed with the invading smell makes her want to retch even more. She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief and took a deep breath.

Her fans were clamoring for another book, one that was even more scandalous than the first. She knew that now was the perfect time to include all of the disgusting things that Edward had said during their meeting.

She scribbled furiously, her pen leaving smudges on the page. She felt like she was on fire, words pouring out of her in a frenzy.

Finally, she sat back in her chair, panting and sweating. She felt like she had just run a marathon. She looked down at the paper in front of her, covered in her cramped handwriting.

With a sense of satisfaction, she realized she had done it - she had penned the perfect revenge novel, even though it was still in its outline stage. She was confident that she could complete the entire manuscript as fast as possible.

The room was silent except for her ragged breathing and the faint flicker of the candle. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

"I've finally done it!" Beatrice exclaimed. Her voice was tinged with burning anger and a sense of vindication.

"I can hardly wait to see the look on their faces when they realize what I've written. They will finally feel the same humiliation, anger, and betrayal that they inflicted on me! There's nothing more frightening than social punishment, and they will know it firsthand!" As she spoke, she clenched her fists and paced around the room, her heart racing with anticipation.

With a wicked laugh, she imagined their downfall and how they would lose everything they held dear once her book was released to the public. The sound of her laughter echoed through the room, and she relished in the power and passion that fueled her revenge.

....

The study room was dimly lit, with the scent of old books and polished wood. The only source of light came from the lamps in the middle of the table, casting a soft, otherworldly glow on the surrounding objects.

The lamps themselves were a thing of beauty - a cluster of small, bioluminescent mushrooms arranged on a wooden base, forming a round or oval shape, enclosed by a delicate glass cover.

As Richard sat at the table, admiring the lamps, his brother entered the room, carrying a file of information. "Here's the information about that man," he said, placing the file on the desk.

"Huh, what is this? Another one of your weird hobbies? You plan to make a business out of it?" he asked, lifting the mushroom lamp and examining it closely.

Richard replied in a cold, matter-of-fact tone, "It's called a Glowshroom, and yes, it is a great opportunity to do investment in these goods."

"The design is compelling, and it has a long lifespan as a lamp. It doesn't require any kind of manual lighting like a magic candle, but instead, it glows in the dark immediately. And when the light begins to fade, it can be recharged with magic stones."

He let out a heavy sigh, realizing that when it came to business, he had a tendency to go on and on about his latest discoveries.

Arthur looked impressed. "Well, Beatrice will love it," he said, taking one of the Glowshroom and stowing it away in his pocket.

Richard raised his brow and let out a subtle eye roll as he opened the file given to him by Arthur. The rustling of papers echoed in the otherwise silent room as he scanned through the contents. With a frustrated sigh, he tossed the papers aside and returned to scribbling in his report.

Arthur slammed his hand on the table, causing the sound to reverberate throughout the room. "What are you doing, Brother?! I told you to get rid of that man!" he barked, his voice filled with frustration.

Richard remained unfazed by his brother's outburst, his tone cold and distant. "Do it yourself, Arthur. I'm busy with my work," he replied without even looking up from his report.

"You've got to be kidding me! Weren't you the one who was so worked up about finding the most suitable candidate for Beatrice's marriage? This man will steal her away if we don't do something," Arthur fumed.

Richard let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, a clear sign of his frustration with the situation. "Fine," he muttered before adding, "Now get out," while pointing towards the door with a stern look on his face.

Arthur, sensing his brother's resolve, begrudgingly stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he left. Richard leaned back in his chair, letting out a long exhale as he closed his eyes for a brief moment to calm himself down.

Richard couldn't help but feel exhausted from dealing with his family's constant outbursts of emotion. 'Why does this family always have to be so overly dramatic? I'm getting tired of constantly having to deal with it,' he thought to himself, letting out a deep sigh.