Shayla chuckled softly, one hand slipping from her breast to rest gently on Aryl's back.
Just then, the Marquis's voice rang out sharp and commanding.
"Vigg… Go on. Join them. Give His Grace a nice show."
Vigg flinched in shock. His eyes widened, but then—slowly—a smile began to form. One of relief. Finally, he was no longer a spectator.
He took a deep breath, tension leaving his shoulders instantly.
"Yes, Father," he said, bowing deeply, hiding the excitement in his voice with obedience.
He took a step forward—toward the bed, toward Shayla and Aryl, whose naked bodies still glowed in the torchlight. His fingers twitched with anticipation, feet carrying him closer to that forbidden warmth—
Until Julian's laugh split the silence.
"Oh, Marquis…" Julian teased, lounging deeper into his seat. "Like I said—I want everything for myself."
The words hung in the air, heavy as stone.
