“Hm?” the white-haired elf let out a distracted sound. “Could you repeat that?”

  “I said you look better this morning,” Rykard told her simply. “Cleaner, more awake, just all around more attractive.”

  Mena smiled, possibly trying to hide her blush behind a mask of simple courtesy. “Your niceness is much appreciated, contender Rykard.”

  The sovereign was searching for a suave response, when he was interrupted by an annoyed shout. “Put on some clothes!”

  “You look much better as well, Tena,” Rykard extended the compliment further. The redheaded, much fitter half of the fraternal twins gave him a gre that was impossible to read.

  Rykard, for his part, sat quite happily in the bed of flowers and moss and combed Vyra’s hair. The vampire dy had her eyes closed and smiled, letting him do as he pleased. He had already washed her head to toe using the indoor pond.

  Usually he was the one enjoyed the caress of his submissives, but it was the mark of a good dom to return the favour at least once in a while, preferably somewhat frequently. Since they were all alone on this journey, it was his opportunity to repeatedly show her all of his affection through gestures like this. “You know, you could have knocked,” he told the redhead, before she could insist a second time.

  “The door was very open,” Tena responded. “Very, very open. The entire night.”

  “And what a long night it was, isn’t that so Vyra?”

  “A wonderfully long night, milord,” the white-haired vampire dy agreed. She tilted her head slightly to one side, indicating where she wanted the comb to travel through next. Rykard, of course, did her the favour. “If I may, if you minded the volume, you could have come compin at any point.”

  “And you do not look any tired for it either,” Rykard added to his woman’s observation.

  The twins silently swayed at that. Rykard absorbed the differences between them quite eagerly. As a man of culture, he had a special love for identical twins, but he did not mind these equally aged sisters either. One fit, the other curvaceous, the redheaded druid and the white-haired priestess made for a set of a different kind.

  Mena cleared her throat, her blush even more intense. “Be that as it may,” she spoke softly. “It is-”

  “Not be that as it may!” Tena interrupted. “You’re guests, mind your manners.”

  “You’re hosts, mind yours,” Rykard shot back.

  “Ebe, ur, argh… URGH!” Tena’s storm of noises ended when she picked up one of the fruits that grew from the ceiling and tossed it at Rykard. Vyra caught it for him, then offered it to his lips. He took a satisfyingly loud bite from the firm, red fruit.

  “Sister…” Mena quietly and insistently made a non-verbal request. Sighing, Tena ceded the territory and took a half-step back. “We have come,” the priestess picked back up, “to summon you to the council. We kindly request your presence at your earliest convenience.”

  “Right now would work for me.” The comb in Rykard’s hand glided without resistance through Vyra’s hair. He let the conjured item fade, then got up. Just so Tena wouldn’t compin further, him and his vampire did put on their clothes.

  They moved to the council chamber. They were greeted with blushes, flushes, and fidgeting. Rykard raised an eyebrow, trying not to look too smug. Him and Vyra had caused quite the stir, it seemed - of the positive kind.

  “We have debated… through the night,” one of the druids said.

  “Long through the night,” a priestess added.

  Silence, as the women looked at each other and waited for another to talk. Eventually, the eldest looking, putting her in her early thirties by appearance, cleared her throat. “Your vision of a world of harems, one of the twin aspects of Tey, is indeed most enticing,” she said. Rykard heard the ‘but’ before it came. “But the tales passed to us through traditions oral and written caution us greatly to trust contestants outright.”

  “Then what is your decision?” Vyra asked, while Rykard kept a straight face. He would only speak once he was certain what to say.

  “The Whisperwood is willing to engage in trade with the realm of New Eden. After a few weeks, we should have a proper picture on whether or not this is acceptable to us.”

  Weeks were a long time in this game. Rykard could try to negotiate into them joining immediately. It would be hard, but with the right guarantees and honeyed words, it could work. He could also try to set a specific date for the decision that was a bit closer than indeterminate ‘weeks’. Another option was to py along for not but try to push them on the decision.

  There was also the nuclear option of decring war immediately. Wasting the lives of such gorgeous elves and devastating this forest would have been a waste, but a sovereign always knew all his options, even if he did not want to take many of them.

  ‘What to do, what to do…?’ Rykard thought.

  Faced with a council of attractive women, direly needed for the world Rykard wanted to build, there really was only one answer.

  “I understand your reservations,” he began, immediately dispersing the heavy feeling in the air. “It is not every day one is whisked away from their homend and certainly not every day that one enters a game that has left one’s realm of origin in ruins, until the timely intervention of the most benevolent goddess Tey.”

  The honeyed words had the intended effect. As with his previous speech, Rykard felt the eyes of the women in the room lock on him. He stepped forwards, taking another look around the chamber. Letting his hands explore, he found previously unseen details among the shaped wood walls of the great tree: an image of a tall hunchback gnawing on roots. It was a small, ugly detail in otherwise so elegant decor.

  “I understand your reservations. Were you to just surrender to me today, I could move on, broaden my powerbase, and by the time you decide to change your mind it would be too te. Right now you hold the power, for I cannot continue strengthening my realm before I satisfy your curiosity. Were I in your shoes, I would act the same.”

  He turned back to them and folded his hands behind his back. Rykard knew he radiated charisma, patience and order, all three things he wanted to radiate at that moment. He stepped halfway up to the council.

  “However, I am not in your shoes, I am in mine. As a contestant, I have the ambition to shape this world and even if I want to be peaceful wherever I can, others see no problem advancing through arms. One of my fellow contestants is turning all Hexagons they touch into desert tiles. Others may simply have had bad luck with their initial conquests. I know nothing of them. It has not even been three weeks yet and already every contestant has filled several Hexagons. You are asking me to wait patiently for your decision, to wait for weeks, but weeks is a long time in this game we py.”

  Rykard took a pause, crossing the rest of the distance. The gap between him and the scantily cd or entirely naked leadership of the Whisperwoods was now much too narrow to be appropriate for regur diplomacy. None of them minded. Rykard could practically feel their eyes roaming over him. Last night had certainly left an impact and they were thirsting for a taste of something like it. Beyond that desire, they were cautious, however. They were leaders first, not horny elves.

  Sitting down before them, cross-legged, Rykard put himself on their level. “I am worthy of your trust, I believe this fully, and I would love to earn it in time, but the situation as it is does not permit this to the extent you may like. This dey may cost me the necessary time to build up this nation further, cascading into further catastrophes. I’m not the contestant that plunged your home realm into desotion, but I could be the contestant that failed to stop that person.”

  The argument struck a cord and, one after another, the women before him nodded. “A shorter time then…”

  “A set date,” Rykard made a soft demand. “Can your druids turn into hawks or eagles?” A confirming nod. “Then I ask you to take to the skies. My realm is not vast, you can see its expanse if you fly high enough and you can go speak to the people across my three Hexagons. You can also speak to my women if you want to.” A crooked smile lingered for a moment, then he continued in a serious tone. “I know this is much to ask, but two days should be all you need to see for yourself all you need to know.”

  “...Two days,” Tena mumbled. “I believe that should indeed be enough time for our fastest to fly to and back, including the time to speak to some locals.”

  The council hummed. The tone was skeptical initially, but gradually the mood shifted towards him as his arguments sickered in. “One more suggestion, if I may,” he continued, once more grabbing everyone’s attention. “I suggest the twins, as representatives of both sides of the goddess’ aspects, accompany me for a little while. They can report back to you swiftly, should I turn out to be false.”

  “Two days is not a long time for them to keep an eye on you, contender,” one of the druids said.

  “However,” Mena herself spoke up, “I do agree that someone should, and I am eager to see more of him. I believe he just might be worthy of our attention.”

  Rykard raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure if the priestess had just flirted with him or missed the double meaning in her words entirely. Before he could work that out, Tena let out a grumbling, “If she’s fine with it, I’m going along.”

  “Then it is decided,” one of the priestesses stated. “Our druids will take to the air, scouting out his realm. We shall make our decision in two days, once we’ve heard of their reports.”

  The council, swiftly, agreed to the decision. Rykard took a relieved little breath. He was confident they would see his realm reflected what he wanted, even if it was in its early stages. Two days was not a terribly long time to lose. He stood up and the council dispersed, leaving him only with Vyra, Tena, and Mena.

  “So… what are you going to do now?” the redheaded twin asked.