The next morning looked like the aftermath of a minor war… held backstage at a fashion show.
Silk hung from chandelier arms.
One stocking dangled precariously from a ceiling fan that was absolutely not designed to hold stockings.
A corset had been draped over a decorative bust of an ancient elven general.
Someone's boot rested in a fruit bowl.
How it had gotten there was a mystery that no one would volunteer to solve.
The Vixens awoke slowly.
Normally, mornings after a night with Jax carried a familiar rhythm.
A pleasant soreness.
A glow of satisfaction.
A sense of accomplishment.
Ready to earn iPoints and conquer the day.
This morning was… different.
Pixie Mead had rewritten the rules.
They had begun the night joyful.
Uninhibited.
Laughing.
And then—
They had stopped pretending restraint mattered.
Zee's sound barrier had shimmered valiantly.
It had also failed.
Repeatedly.
The tangled web of limbs began to untwist.
Nyxian shifted first, groaning softly but smiling.
Bunny blinked at the ceiling as if trying to remember why the ceiling looked… tilted.
Zee buried her face into a pillow, whispering something about recalibrating spells next time.
Llandra lay still for a moment longer.
Sore.
Very sore.
And yet…
Completely unregretful.
That was the strange part.
The hangover lingered.
The soreness lingered.
But not a single decision felt mistaken.
Jax opened his eyes to discover three arms and two legs draped over him in ways that defied physics.
He blinked once.
Twice.
"…I fell asleep at some point," he muttered.
The memory returned in flashes.
Heat.
Laughter.
Someone nearly knocking over a wardrobe.
The sound barrier flickering.
He questioned how he had managed thirty uninterrupted minutes of sleep before Nyxian's first "surprise visit."
The room held the faint aura of triumph.
It simmered with it.
There were peaks reached the night before that would have taken mortals a lifetime of trial and error to even approach.
And the room smelled faintly of victory.
And fruit.
Definitely fruit.
Eventually, they disentangled.
Eventually.
Dressing took longer than expected.
Matching garments to owners proved… challenging.
By the time they made it to breakfast, it was nearly ten.
The dining hall had mostly finished its early service.
Servants paused mid-step.
Heads turned.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
Some had heard.
Some had not.
Those who had not were now very curious.
Those who had… did not need confirmation.
The King and Queen were present.
They looked remarkably composed.
The Queen's eyes, however, held the faintest glint of knowing amusement.
Llandra's older siblings were already seated.
Legos leaned back lazily.
Heiron sipped tea with surgical calm.
Their sister had barely taken her seat when Legos grinned.
"So," he drawled, "how did everyone sleep?"
Bunny answered instantly.
"Like a baby."
Nyxian added cheerfully, "Screaming every fifteen minutes."
Several nearby nobles choked on their drinks.
Llandra cleared her throat with forced dignity.
"The accommodations were exceptional," she stated formally. "We may have indulged in Pixie Mead a bit too enthusiastically."
"We heard," Legos' fiancée murmured under her breath. She was both exhausted from listening to them all night, and also, waiting to listen for more when the quiet approached.
She was both annoyed and jealous of what she heard.
Servants moved quickly to serve the group.
Food was welcomed.
Very welcomed.
Jax ate in silence for a moment, letting the hall's murmurs wash over him.
No anger.
No scandal.
Mostly fascination.
A bit of envy.
More than a bit.
Heiron approached soon after, Legos beside him.
Five other men followed, dressed in hunting leathers and light battle gear.
"Jax," Heiron began evenly, "we heard you wished to take our father hunting."
Jax perked up instantly.
"Yes. Absolutely."
"Noon," Legos said.
"I'm in."
Legos' gaze flicked toward the Vixens.
"Men only."
There was a brief pause.
Jax glanced at Llandra.
No offense registered on her face.
Only mild curiosity.
The others seemed unconcerned as well.
This wasn't dismissal.
It felt… ritualistic.
Understood.
Jax nodded.
"Understood."
---
An hour later, the hunting party gathered outside the castle gates.
Twelve riders.
All mounted on powerful elven steeds bred for endurance and elegance.
The King stood at their head.
Regal.
Composed.
Almost youthful with anticipation.
Jax approached.
On foot.
He surveyed the line of horses.
Very nice horses.
Very expensive horses.
He considered summoning Dante.
Immediately rejected that idea.
Dante would terrify the countryside.
Before he could decide, a ripple of shadow formed behind him.
Nyxian's voice floated from the castle steps.
"You're not walking."
From the darkness emerged Steed.
The Shadow Beast stretched, towering, magnificent.
Its presence shifted the atmosphere instantly.
The elven horses stamped nervously.
Several men exchanged glances.
The King's steed tossed its head.
Steed lowered itself slightly for Jax.
Not out of obedience.
Out of familiarity.
Jax mounted smoothly.
He did not miss the looks.
Of the twelve riders present, more than one measured him differently now.
He was not merely the human fiancé.
He rode a Shadow Beast more imposing than any warhorse present.
And the beast treated him as master.
The Queen stood beside the Vixens, watching.
Llandra met Jax's eyes.
Pride.
Confidence.
Something unspoken.
Legos adjusted his saddle.
Heiron gave a short nod.
The King raised a hand.
The hunting party began to move.
Jax rode beside the King.
The castle walls behind them shimmered in morning light.
Behind those walls, the night's legend would circulate for weeks.
Ahead of them—
Forest.
Beasts.
And perhaps…
A different kind of trial.